Greed and pride are cardinal sins, but a pretty face can trump any vice.

Sif knew that better than anyone, so she never felt the need to stifle down her seemingly sinful character traits. As a matter of fact, Sif never felt much of anything but pride. Carrying the blood of the dragon, she had always felt superior.

Because she was.

If she was ever asked to define perfection, she'd gesture at herself. Then, she would give the questioner a condescending look, offended that they couldn't figure out the answer by just looking at her.

Someone would even argue that the questioner needn't their eyes anymore if they couldn't see perfection whenever they saw Sif. They would deem it to be a complete waste of a seemingly functioning pair of eyes, which shouldn't even be looking at Sif in the first place.

But, said someone is not part of the story just yet.

So, back to Sif.

Being the only one to inherit the blood of the dragon in her royal family, she was always the golden child. She was raised in opulence, given riches and wealth in abundance. After all, it was natural instinct for a western dragon to hoard in grand treasures.

Additionally, as the youngest child in the family, both her royal parents and benevolent king of an older brother had spoiled her rotten. She had lived a sheltered life of extreme doting, spending and love from both her family and people.

She was a national symbol, the pride and joy of her kingdom. So, it was only natural for her people to weep as they heard the news of her departure. They protested in misery, cried in grief yet settled in regret as she tried to appease them with a tenth of her treasure.

She left behind gold and silver in her wake and knew how to get people to do her bidding, follow her rule and give her everything she's ever wanted. She was a crafty charmer with a noble bearing and an expressionless face.

In her mind, it was only natural for people to want to give her everything they had. She was a borderline narcissist, but she believed that her narcissism was justified for she was perfect after all and as a perfect person, she had the right and power to take the rare things in life that she wasn't already given.

And she took plenty.

Hundreds of chests were laid out in front of a grand castle. They were overflowing with gold and gemstones as an entourage of servants loaded them up securely in what seemed to be a giant golden saddle. The scene was grand, but what was even more imposing was the person supervising it.

Layers of sparkling embroidered silk and lace were draped on a slender yet tall body, wrapped in a large coat of white fur that scraped the floor. The number of jewels styled along with the extravagant outfit was blinding as each precious stone emitted its own dazzling light when it reflected the winter morning sun.

Although eye-catching, Sif's pale frame somehow blended perfectly with the white backdrop of the piling snow that covered the castle. Her layered necklaces dug into her skin and her bracelets gave their usual jingle as she was violently squeezed tight.

Her mother, a voluptuous redhead with a pretty face full of tears sobbed into her studded ears, "Are you really sure you want to go alone?" She grabbed Sif by the cheeks as she stared into her eyes, tears still overflowing, "How about just a couple of maids, yes?"

"I know you don't usually like company, but maybe if you get home-sick they could-"

"Draling," A man's voice interrupted "Let her be, she's old enough to make her own decisions."

"But, going alone to such a far foreign land is-" Sif was squeezed again and wanted nothing more than to escape the crushing hug, but thankfully her father caught on to her distress as he comforted his wife once more.

"She is of the blood of the dragon, bringing along an entourage will only be a burden." He used a meaty hand to tap his wife's shoulder in order to calm her down.

He was a pudgy short blond man with friendly features, a kind smile and a wife completely opposite to his aesthetic. Once her mother finally reluctantly let her go, Sif glanced at the now huddling couple in thought.

The redhead was now hunched over, resuming her grieved sobbing into the blonde's arms as she confided in him her sadness. It was a touching scene, but the dominating thought in Sif's mind was the undeniable fact that her father was so ugly, she was grateful to have her mother's genes.

Genuinely, she had no idea how her mother fell for him.  However, regardless of how their love story happened, its outcome was a solid relationship where her father would give her mother everything he's ever had if she simply asks for it. Sif liked the idea of being given things unconditionally.

She wanted what they had.

But, there's no way she's picking an ugly husband.

"Uhm," Another person who she was sure was also grateful for their mother's genes cleared his throat, catching her attention. Villhelm approached her once the servants were finally done with their task. The grand saddle was packed with hundreds of treasure chests, leaving no spot vacant between the stacks of extravagance.

With feigned pride and a hidden expression similar to their mother, Villhelm stood before Sif. His jaw was tight as he held a crystal box, inside of it was what appeared to be a golden pen. "Write home." Was the only thing he said as he shoved the box in her arms.

Sif thought his badly concealed worry was comical so she gave him another rare pat on the shoulder as she agreed, "I will."

With a nod to her father, who still held her mother tightly to his chest, Sif wasted no more time on goodbyes as she fastened the crystal box to one of the chests and her thin frame morphed into a giant being.

Her dragon form was a beast of many legends and tales. It was massively majestic with pale silver-grey scales, mimicking crystallized glass as they reflected light. Her sharp claws plowed the ground as she advanced towards the saddle, aiding the servants to place it on her back.

Once they were done, she gave the treasure mountain on her back a shake to make sure it was secure. When her cargo wouldn't budge, she spread her wings wide, completely covering the castle's gate as she took off of the ground with one forceful flap.

Snowy air swirled all around as she rose further from her home. Her piercing icy eyes giving the castle one last long stare before flying over her kingdom. Taking in a large breath, she breathed out a mighty fire across the land, effectively melting the piling snow that covered the city, easing the harsh winter as she headed east.

A final gift of departure.

Her month-long journey was a lonesome travel. But, being a dragon, itself was a lonesome existence. Solitude was a dominant trait of her kind so she often felt detached from those around her.

She held affection for her family, she tolerated her servants and didn't mind her people. But, if she was given the option, she would rather be alone. That was why she didn't need to bring along an entourage.

She didn't need aid; she was capable enough. She didn't need protection; she was strong enough. As for company, she figured, she would get that in her chosen mate so she didn't need to drag somebody else along.

With the terrain under her shifting one final time, vast hills shifted into a gated city and a foreign architecture spread across the land. Busy narrow streets invaded her view as she approached yet the whole city seemed to stand still for a moment.

People halted their daily activities, and thousands of heads looked up as wide eyes stared in fascination at the glass-like creature roaming their skies. She wondered if she should give them a gift of arrival when a glint caught her attention.

A golden throne brightly shined on top of the grand gate located at the heart of the city. It hid behind it a vast palace. Once her eyes were back on the shiny throne once more, the booming sound of drums sounded off in the air.

Two rows of red flags were erected in front of the gate. Embroidered on them was an image she knew too well, it was a replica of her own painting of an eastern dragon. The booming drums sounded louder as she lowered in flight, nearing the ground at the center of the rows of flags.

Once she reached the ground, she was surrounded by groups of armored soldiers on each side, bowing to her in greeting and ready to serve. She huffed, not wanting them to touch her precious cargo yet.

"Welcome!" A delighted voice sounded from the top of the gate, above the golden throne. The thundering drums settled down as the emperor spoke once more, "Welcome to the forbidden city!" He said in a foreign tongue that Sif had no problem understanding due to her past three years of plotting and study.

The emperor had his arms spread open, a wide grin stretched across his old face as the long sleeves of his red robes fluttered in the winter wind. Sif deemed the grand welcome fitting of her status as she took in her surroundings.

The more she looked, the more things sparkled. Glinting silver armor, shiny jade jewelry, sparkly embroidery of gold and silver on pure silk, polished metal swords and golden crowns along with elaborate glittering headpieces adorning the spectator's heads.

Sif was quite pleased with her first impressions of this foreign land. However, her sharp stare held a silent question as her eyes scanned the three men standing behind the still-grinning emperor. According to Villhelm's past travel stories, the emperor of the forbidden city had four sons, not three.

So, where was the fourth dragon prince?