Short stories ♡︎

A Princess's Duty

                            ~♔︎♔︎~

My sister brushed my hair,
humming softly as she did it.
Her movements were slow and contempt, the dreariness of the night slowly overtaking her.
I sat quietly with my hands over my lap, looking in the mirror.
My face was pale, though my features sharp and defined.
My eyes a dark brown, unreadable to most, but shone bright in the sun.
My lips a beautiful bow, and plump and full.
I was beautiful, as many people had said to me, but not in a way that caught a man's eye.
A king's eye.
Not in the way my sister was beautiful.
My mother never seemed to let that comparison leave my mind.
A princess, my mother would say, is meant to be beautiful and elegant to catch a king's eye.
My sister was already betrothed, to a king from a land not so far from our own.
He was round, and fat, and twice her age, but he was wealthy.
Almost as wealthy as our father.
She had caught his eye with little effort.
With her long, raven hair, that was smooth and silky.
With her wide brown eyes, much lighter than mine.
With her soft voice that could calm even the rowdiest of men.
What a princess should be.
"Your suitors will be arriving tomorrow." My sister said, her voice so soft.
I frowned, but didn't respond.
If none of the men that arrived tomorrow present a dowry my father deemed good enough, I would become even more of a disappointment.
I was 16, a princess, and unmarried.
In my home, this was outrageous.
Women should be married by 14, and have children by the age of 18.
I had no interest in this life, but it is not like I had a say.
Princess's are meant to be obedient.
"I think tomorrow will go well." My sister said, still brushing.
A sigh slipped through my lips. "Does it really matter anymore?"
My sister smiled, her beautiful lips gently pulled up in a lovely shape.
A princess smile.
"Of course it does," she said. "A wealthy man would be good for you."
"For our father." I snapped back, more resentful than I intended.
Her lips pursed, and she shifted her stance, but never stopped brushing.
Through her new position, I could see the slight bump growing on her stomach, showing she was with child.
"You must not complain, sister." She said, her voice barley a whisper.
I balled my hands into fists, agitation growing in me. "I will complain as long as I can speak."
"That is unwise." Her brushing picked up speed, but her face remained neutral and calm. "Never speak of that to you husband."
I averted my eyes from the mirror.
I could not look at my sister say those things.
Did she not understand that I did not want this?
That this is unfair?
My sister seemed to read my face through the mirror, and she stopped brushing.
"Sister, I know how you're feeling." She said, her tone unmoving. "But understand, this is our duty. As princesses and future queens."
Without meaning, without understanding, tears welled in my eyes.
"To abide by our husbands and not question the way of things." She continued, her voice wavering only slightly. "That is dangerous. Be what a princess should be, and you will be okay."
Tears fell on my face, that was barren of makeup and upturned fake smiles.
Why must this be my life?
To serve my husband.
To never speak up.
To have my life planned for me.
Picked for me.
My sister dabbed my face with a cloth that sat on her vanity.
Through the mirror, and through my tears, I saw my sister say what my mother engraved in my head.
What I live by.
The only way I will stay safe.
"Be what a princess should be, and do your duty."