Princess Spoken For

9 ~ Opening up

Growing wildly like tall stalks of bamboo, Ariella's feelings only served to confuse her. Ever since that night, when only Xavier had come to her rescue, her heart rejoices vivaciously in his presence now. The princess had never felt anything as acute as these feelings before, and if she were to be trusting of her emotions, she'd realized that they scared her.

For her heart swooned and soared through the clouds, basking in the heavenly aura that was Xavier, but when he was away. . . she felt terrible. Her heart ached, twisting into gnarled knots as if a piece of her was stolen. And when the western king touched her, whispered sickening sweet nothings into her ear, reminding her of his power over her – well, her heart would quite quickly drop to her stomach, slithering and squirming within her uncomfortably.

These unfamiliar emotions that washed over her like rampant waves on a shore became a gateway to deeper thoughts. Her mind would take her back to that night when King Zion had hurt her so. . . the night that her father saved her, breaking the cursed arrangement between the two nations. Subconsciously, Ariella's hand slithered under her wild bedhead, absentmindedly holding onto her ear. There was a subtle twinge of phantom pain shooting through the cartilage before slowly simmering away.

Staring out at the vast greenery before her, Ariella gracefully leaned forward on her balcony's rails. The summer breeze wafted through the air, carrying the scent of pine and petrichor. Daring red locks danced with the warm zephyr; a truly peaceful moment, and yet anxiety still racked princess Ariella's nerves.

She seemed to never be able to fully relax anymore, always skittish. Ari blamed it on the upcoming beach trip. They would leave early morning the next day, stopping at their country home for the night. If everything went smoothly, the western and northern monarchs would reach the shoreline by noon the day after tomorrow.

The trip would simultaneously be a blessing and a curse, Ariella concurred to herself. A blessing for her father had tasked her with preparing for the trip, which meant no king zion. However, it was also a curse, for the princess would have to spend a week at the beach . . . with king zion.

"Are you feeling ill, My Lady?" Natti's softened voice broke Ariella out of her trance.

"No, Natti," she replied, "my head is just a mess right now, that's all."

"I"m sorry to hear that, your highness. I can only imagine what is tying up your thoughts," the lady-in-waiting remarked, swiftly folding a few outfits that Ariella handed her.

The princess kept her eyes glued to the back wall of her wardrobe, shuffling through the many different shades of dresses. None of them seemed to catch her attention, and she began to wonder when she started to lose her appeal for fashion. . .

Princess Ariella had always loved wearing pretty fashion that were oftentimes quite outlandish, yet anyone would agree that she could pull anything off. Her beauty and grace compared to no other. She enjoyed standing out from the crowd as they awed whatever unique gown she had picked for the night. But now, as she stands before her newest collection, they all seemed pointless. Their appeal had simply faded.

"--I wonder what Xavier would choose." Ariella almost choked on Natti's words.

"W-What?!" The princess exclaimed, embarrassed.

"Were you zoning out again?!" Natti looked worried as she stood, defiant, with her hands on her hips and a solemn look playing on her features. "I said 'Are you having trouble picking out your outfits for the trip?' and then I walked over here, looked at your dresses, and said, 'I wonder what Xavier would choose.'" The maid explained, matter-of-factly.