<div align="center"><em>Made for YankeeGent</em><br/>(http://images.theglobeandmail.com/archives/RTGAM/images/20050922/wdip0922/model.jpg)</div><br/>The trip to the settlement had been long and tedious, the little Spanish senorita having slept most of the way; she cared not for the lush green forests that they traveled through or the men that they’d taken with them on this trip. She had certainly not wanted to go to this little piece of deserted hell in the middle of nowhere, having preferred to stay in Spain with her nanny – though her father would hear nothing of it.<br/><br/><em>Usted es muy loco</em>(you are crazy), she thought as she stared out the window of the carriage at her father, the old man giving her a sad wave from the back of his steed. She smiled in turn, though the sadness in her eyes could not be mistaken. Closing the curtains, Damita sat back against the plush leather seat with a sigh, a delicate hand brushing against her brow. It was hot and stuffy within the muted depths of the carriage, though she knew that night would bring unexplainable cold. They had already passed by several settlements, none of which they’d stopped at – Even to gather supplies.<br/><br/><em>How much further?</em>She agonized, her pale face twisting into an irritated grimace.<br/><br/>Damita’s had been named perfectly, the meaning behind it being ‘little princess’ and she certainly was treated like one. It would turn out to be a most unfortunate day for the little princess, the meaning of their trip being one of ill favor- though she had yet to find out. The carriage came suddenly to a halt, though the little princess remained seated, gaining no false hope that she was ‘home’.<br/><br/>Her father rode up beside the carriage, making sure the curtain was closed before he moved forward, waiting for the other party to arrive. It was time they made their deal; he had brought his half of the contract.<br/><br/>Signed, sealed, delivered.<br/>