★·.·'¯'·.·★ "I love you so...
...please let me go"★·.·'¯'·.·★
𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the Winter Court Princess finds her mate but he doesn't seem to want the same as her.
𝙋𝙧𝙚-𝘼𝘾𝙊𝙏𝘼𝙍- 𝘼𝘾𝙊𝙒𝘼𝙍...
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Kallista never wanted to end up like this.
This person was never who she aspired to be when she was little and her mother asked her who would she be when she grew up.
She used to think she would be like every other princess in Phrythian, probably married to a High Fae, with lots of children in a big castle.
Or that's what she used to tell her mother.
Now waking up on her full bathtub with clothes still on after a night of drinking till her body couldn't take it anymore, this was definitely not in her life plan.
She stared at the blue ceiling, she knows this is not the best way to deal with the trauma that she suffered under the mountain, but it's the only way she knew how to stop the memories from resurfing and to stop the walls from closing in.
The princess couldn't ask anyone for help, her brother too busy with repairing the lands, Vivianne -now the high lady- help in the city whenever she could, Helion who was also repairing his cities.
It seemed like she was forgotten, but she couldn't blame them, lives were at stake if they didn't help.
She stumbled her way out of the bath nearly slipping on the wet floor when the water sloshed out.
The princess walked to her closet leaving a water trail from the wet dress.
The seamstress almost went crazy when Kallista told her she had to do more because she had burned her last ones.
However this dresses were no longer puffy, cupcake dresses she used to like or wear to impress people. She wanted something more.
And now her dresses were tight to her figure making ladies in court gasp and whisper as she passed by.
But she didn't care, she felt good with the new dresses, she felt wanted.
But sometimes - well most of the time- she didn't like them, and was so horrified she stayed in bed all day. What if the dresses made her a target once again? What if Amarantha came back and took her once again?
She knew it was stupid but it was like an itch she couldn't scratch. So the only solution was to order skin tight dresses but also dresses that didn't even show skin from the neck to her to her toes.
Sometimes she even felt sick at the thought of showing skin, on the good days however she relished on the beautiful tight dresses.
And the good days always depended on the amount of alcohol she drank. And who didn't always want to have a good day.
