destined

chapter one: wren

The crucifying voice of my father booms down the hallway, startling me awake. I curse him as I scrambles out of bed and into my closet - however, I'm not quick enough.

"Wren, sweetheart, were you still sleeping?" he patronises.

"No, dad," I lies, "I just can't find anything to wear."

"Bullshit." He replies as he inspects the picture frame standing on my dresser. He patiently waits for me to emerge, and when I finally do, he continues his interrogation, pointing at the photo, "I don't know why you insist on keeping this here."

"And I don't know why you insist on asking the same thing every morning." I roll my eyes.

"And I," he continues, "don't know why you insist on being immume to an alarm." He chuckles as I goes silent and changes the subject,

"What's on the agenda today?"

"Do you know what the date is?" my father's smile stays put.

"April 10th."

"Good. At least some part of your brain works straight after you wake up." He looks at my outfit - a mismatched set of pajamas - and his grin widens.

I try to argue my earlier point (that I was definitely awake before he entered my bedroom) but I knows it's futile. My father simply waves his hand at me dismissively and continues talking,

"April 10th is correct, which means everyone is arriving for the ball today. I need you to be on your best behaviour, sweetheart," he gives me a pointed look, "there are very important people staying on our estate."

I fights the urge to roll her eyes once again, "You give me the same speech every year. I know all about the important people staying with us."

"Yes, you do." he glances at the picture frame, and then quickly diverts his eyes to the window, "And since you take such a liking to being where you shouldn't, you can help the servants prepare the grand hall over the next few days."

He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He takes one more look at me before walking out the door - leaving his last words echoing through the room:
"But please, Wren. Get changed."

✧ ✧ ✧

I spend the day doing just what my father asked of me. By the time the bell rings for dinner, I'm exhausted.

Instead of making my way to the kitchen, I head in the opposite direction; a steep flight of stairs later and I'm staring out at the city.

I collapses into the swinging chair perfectly placed on the roof and sigh, pulling a blanket around my shoulders. I finally feels relaxed after a day of stress, decorating, and greetings.

Unfortunately, my relaxation doesn't last anywhere near as long as I would've liked.

The metal door to the roof swings open with too much force and hits the brick wall behind it. A quiet curse has me sighing once again, but this time out of annoyance,
"I really want an hour to myself, please, dad."

A deep chuckle has me spinning in my chair just in time for the figure to speak,
"I am not your dad. But i'll take that as a compliment."

"Jesus, Jay!" I scowls, "Did you follow me up here?"

He shrugs and sits on one of the uncomfortable garden chairs to the left of my swinging one, "I had to know where the princess was sneaking off to. Shouldn't you be eating with your parents?"

"I'm not hungry." I mutters, curling my body away from Jay, "I can eat later."

"One of the perks of being the commanders' kid, huh? You can do what you want, when you want." Despite trying to remove him from my peripheral vision, his smirk is still visible.