Broken

Prologue

Many people dream of the day they will meet their true love, so how ironic it would be that the day I met mine would be a day filled of melancholy and complete irritation. I would argue that I didn't even have fate on my side, the encounter was planned out of sheer ignorance, but possibly that was what fate had planned all along.
I often think about what it would've been like to never have met him. Perhaps if fate had stayed out of the picture, he would still be alive, and I would still be in my castle with a crown on my head. I would still be completely and utterly depressed, but at least I would be home.

Yes, fate can be funny, and so very cruel.

-

I shook my head. I needed to be rid of
these thoughts of uncertainty and self-consciousness. I already knew I was unworthy of whatever man was about to walk through those doors, but I couldn't let him know that, even if he is my soon-to-be husband.

"Behave." My father, who was standing on my right, scolded under his breath. I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see the King of Tarovia looking forward, tall and strong. Had I not heard him speak, I would not have believed he moved his mouth at all. My father is a true leader, brave, stern, and strong. And who am I? A petty princess who is arranged to marry a man she'd never met, all because she was out of control. I straightened my back, and lifted my chin.
I wanted to prove I could be a poised and respected princess, and not the power-crazy monster my parents believed me to be. And the only way for me to do so would be to follow their every order. So I would behave.

I glanced over at my mother. Her hair was tied neatly back into a bun. I used to wear my hair exactly like that as a young child, but seeing as how I never leave the palace gates anymore, she found it pointless to continue styling my hair, so my orange locks hung in short, frizzy, curls at my jaw. Except for today, I've decided to at least make my hair somewhat presentable.
I twisted my hair into some braided updo, but judging by the sigh my mother gave in my direction once she saw me earlier, I could assume I should've just left it down.

Chin up.
Back straight.
Shoulders back.
Eyes forward.

I reviewed every etiquette lesson I've ever endured silently in my head. It was the only way to keep my heart rate calm. The breathing couldn't be helped, particularly because this corset cut my lung capacity in half, and I've been sentenced to short and shallow breaths for the rest of the evening. A punishment I'm sure would pay off in the end.

The grand doors a dozen yards in front of us swing open. My hearts stops.
However, it's just a palace guard, Charles in fact. After being isolated to the palace grounds for 18 years, I've learned the names of every guard, chef, maid, diplomat and the occasional jester. It's great practice, as it's a Princess's duty to be familiar with her people.

"Your Majesties, the Head of the Guard has arrived." The guard Charles announces.

The Head of the Guard? What could be of such importance that he requests the presence of the King and Queen?
Now I had never met the Head of the Guard, nor am I aware of his name. It is the duty of the King to handle warfare and all branches of it.

"Send him in." My father ordered.

My heart began pounding faster. I considered leaving. My parents never discussed these matters in front of me, and for very specific reasons. Whoever my new fiancé was would have to wait.
I began to back away, but my foot had not firmly taken a step before my father turned and sent me a spine-tingling glare.
I stepped back into place and stayed perfectly still, almost too afraid to breathe.

I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway through the doors that were now being held open by two palace guards.
A man dressed in a prestigious military uniform appears into view. The jacket was a deep red, mimicking the color of our kingdom's symbol, the rose. It was garnished in golden ropes and medals of various honors. His hair was a light brown and it was groomed back. And a saber was attached at his hip. This must be the Head of the Guard.

Who knew what he had come to discuss, but the matter must be of great importance. My father had placed great value over this occasion, or, at least I thought he had.
I watched as this man walked closer, and closer, until he was standing right in front of me. I thought maybe it was because I happened to be standing in between the King and Queen, however, he was very close. I averted my gaze, which goes against any of my etiquette lessons, but I didn't know how to tell him that he had the wrong girl without speaking. Well... I did have my own method, but I'd prefer not to frighten the leader of our military.

He extended his right hand and smiled at me.

"Hello," he spoke very clearly, "I'm Edmund Roy Carvel the Third, Head of Tarovia's guard. And you must be Princess Kiara of our great nation, my new fiancée."

Wait, what?

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I do hope you enjoy the prologue. This chapter will be repeated later on with more details, but it is meant to serve as a preview to the story of Kiara. Please let me know what you think! The story will be updated once a week.
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