When the Player falls in Love with the Princess

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Happy endings.

It’s what every human wants, everything, every problem, every situation to go your way. But at times your happy ending will never come. You expect Princesses and Princes to have happy endings. We all get to ride off in the sunset with the love our life, happily and content. But we don't. Often times there's no sunset, no fairy tale life, no choice in who we marry. You've heard of arranged marriages in stories and movies. That the princess or prince stands up to there parents. Their parents change their minds. And the kingdom rejoices of the marriage of the young royalty and the commoner.

But that doesn't happen in real life. You have no say in your life, in the choices you desire, or what the big picture will be. At times you'd be allowed a few choices. Minor ones, that won't change the big picture. If you’re lucky...

And that's where my story starts. The discussion of my next year, the next major step in my life...

"Autumn. Autumn. Autumn!" Instructor Abigail clapped her hands in front of my face.

I swatted her hands away, a bit claustrophobic. "What?"

Abigail shook her head. "Autumn you have to listen. This isn't my life it's yours. Now tell me would you rather have Lord Nathaniel or Prince Austin?"

I shook my head. "What's it matter? My mother is going to choose anyway."

Abigail threw up the papers meant to be my next assignment  

"I give up. Your just a selfish, uncaring, spoiled brat!" I watched her storm out of the classroom, rolling my eyes at her usual little rant she does.

I took this as my opportunity to escape this boring room and to the garden. I slipped by the maids and guards around the palace and finally made my way to the green house. Opening the window door the warm humid air splash onto my face. I allowed the sweet smell of the different flowers flood over me.

I slipped off my ballerina flats and carried them in my hand, wiggling my toes in the dirt. The moist, nurtured, soil ran through my toes causing the particles to tickle my feet. I listened to the water dripping down the walls and the drops fall off the leaves onto the pebbled trail. I ran my fingers over the smooth, still, damp leaf of a special purple rose imported from France. The soft petals sparkled with the dew of the morning air. I gasped, pulling my finger back and placing it in my mouth.

Due to the rare existent the flower had adapted to more thorns than others, but the petals are so soft it evens out. I examined the red punctured skin grateful the bleeding had stopped. I shook my head at my stupidity. I should have known better. Everyday I try to escape my crazy world of a princess to either here or the beach but I injure myself every time. But these were my happy places. The place I felt comfortable to allow my emotions, my troubles, and my fears show.

It was improper for a princess to express sadness, anger, frustration, weakness, fear, uncertainty, and impatience in public. At times if you were giving good news or were permitted to smile, to express the joy you were told to show. But often times you kept your emotions to yourself. Hidden deep inside your hallow carcass. So here I hide behind a bushel of trees, wrapping around me. Hiding the tears that fell.

I was to be married. To a complete stranger! A man who would spoil me in riches and wealth in return I give him my innocence and the expected duties of a wife. But not love. The nurses and maids often encouraged the thought that over time we would grow to like each other. But I didn't just want comfortable, ok, and content... I wanted love, craziness, and my dreams to come true. To be free... That was my dream.

I understand it's lame but I have never ever just let loose! I’m always punctual, proper, present, polite, positive, and a presentable princess. The 7 Ps. I have had those drilled in my head for 17 years. Constantly reviewing them. Defining them. Refining them. It's a nonstop subject that I grow tired of fast. But it's all for my husband. Everything I do is for my husband. I don't even know my husband! My mother is constantly changing her mind. She can't decide if she wants a lord or a prince, perhaps a blond or brunette, a man older or younger. It’s an ongoing list that refuses to stop.