"Not... exactly," Elora says, rolling her eyes in amusement. In spite of the subject at hand, though, she's a little relieved. It hadn't taken her long at all to understand that Darrow isn't at all like the world she left behind, full of a different kind of magic, maybe, but making her story feel like an out of place one. Given what he's told her about himself, it isn't as surprising as it might be that he apparently gets it, but it's nice all the same, not to sound crazy talking about it. "Kind of the opposite, actually. There was..."

She barely knows how to explain it, really, or at least where to start, until she does. "There was a boy," she continues, her voice making clear just how trite she knows that to be. "The prince. And he and I were. Well." It feels so long ago, she realizes — not just what happened, but how she felt, who she was, the kitchen girl who fell in love with a prince and ran off after him. "He was taken. By followers of this ancient evil being. The same one that the evil queen was a follower of, too, but I didn't know that yet. So, when they put together a group to go try to rescue him... I followed them. Went right to the person who saved me as a baby. Who told me then because he pretty much had to."

Huffing out a laugh, she adds, "Like I said. Long story."