Resistance to the Crown

Prologue

PROLOGUE
---------------------

This chapter might be triggering to some readers (Mentions of: Abuse)

In front of the mirror, I admired my stunning light blue gown, which complemented my long wavy blonde hair and brown eyes. "What a load of bullshit," I mumbled, despite the fact that it was simply stunning but I'm dying from the corset and the high heels.

My mother, Duchess Camilla Sherry Abira Denzel, who was leaning against the door frame with her hands crossed, sighed, "Athena. Watch your language. You are to be betrothed with his crown prince, Leor."

I'm just a candidate; there's nothing else to it.

She slipped my notice until now. How did she hear what I was whispering?

I respond back in a haughty tone, "So what? Just because I'm getting married to His Royal Highness does not mean I need to change how I act. I will not change myself over one foolish man like you did."

My mother shook her head and said, "Athena! When will you learn?"

Mother continued, "Athena, Your beauty is such a waste, the way you think... It's not..." My mother couldn't quite explain what she meant, but I knew she was making an odd observation of me.

Women have had terrible treatment for years, but people still perceive us as weak. That's how naive a lot of folks are. I scoffed, "The way I think it is not normal, right?"

"Athena... Look, It's just that--" Before Mother could continue her sentence, the maids knocked.

"My apologies, My Lady, but it's best to finish as soon as possible to greet His Highness as the the crown prince is almost here."

"The conversation ends right here, Duchess," I stated in a firm voice as I passed Mother, showing no sign of even a little remorse.

As I dragged my long dress to the entrance after opening the door, I patiently awaited the arrival of the crown prince.

I truly detest royalty, Yes, my parents are the Duke and Duchess of the South. I'm not of royal descent, but is it really a justification to denigrate someone?

The fact that I am a woman is worse than the fact that I am a princess and a contender for the role of crown prince. You're reading great fantasy literature, but they're full of fabrications.

My name is Athena Quinn Adira Denzel, and I am Alfie Conn Flork Denzel's daughter. Whom I resent more than anybody else who breathes.

Life was difficult, particularly for my mother. She married a man she felt comfortable with because of the way society normalizes the treatment of women.

The man married my mother because she was the only child of a wealthy noble, and because women have no feelings and cannot be considered humans in the eyes of the law, she was subjected to maltreatment for several years until she became pregnant.

She cried when she found out she was having a daughter. She was aware that she had to flee to keep me and her safe.

They shared what my mother's father left behind, therefore it's unlikely that the law would support her if she tried to reclaim the property.

It's simple: not having a job will eventually prevent you from having parental rights.

She packed a backpack with her that included her jewelry, clothes, water, and snacks. Any additional stuff would slow her down, which was made more challenging by the fact that she was carrying a 6-month-old baby inside her.

She made enough money selling her clothes and jewels to support us for ten years.

Mother knew she had to find a job eventually, but she couldn't let anyone with her child. Either the gentle ladies who don't have the time to care for a child because of their husbands or the divorced single women who inherit an abusive personality from their family and treat their child in the same manner as they were treated.

After what she had gone through, Mother can hardly ever trust any men.

I was still young, but what else could she do? She had no alternative but to try and save money for the two of us until I was old enough to take care of myself.

I gradually regretted being alive. I knew because I observed my mother's financial hardships.

Mother managed to flee while carrying me in her arms. She had a backpack with her belongings, including jewelry, clothes, water, and food. Any more luggage would make her go more slowly. She made enough money selling her clothes and jewels to support us for eight years.

We were fortunate, both for my mother and in some ways for myself, when the duke, my current father, spotted my mother's beautiful face. He didn't care if she was destitute or had a child and so my mother became a concubine, and I was an illegitimate child.

I wish that was the end of the story, but let's be honest... Even though my mother undoubtedly faced numerous challenges, I'm still recounting the tale.

The compassionate Duchess who held the title before my mother was poisoned.

When I was little, my mother sobbed as she narrated her story to her 12-year-old daughter.

I was aware of the reality of the situation, yet despite being my mother's daughter and not her therapist, she killed someone who didn't deserve it. She understood her guilt.

The words are still fresh in my memory. "Oh, Athena, Athena. I killed the duchess, I poisoned her. I did the right thing right?" she wailed while smiling on my shoulder as she cradled me close. She grabbed me hard as I began to cry. What should I have done?