𝑈𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 ~ 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐺𝑒𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒 𝐼𝐼𝐼

𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑔𝑒

Having liberation in one's soul is the awakening start of a new life. By the flowery meadows under a tree with warm and cool air blowing the flowers upon the golden field. The wind was her own music in her ears as the sun shined on her. There was a freeing of soaring wings upon a young woman writing on her lap under the tree.

A brown skin with long rope-coiled golden red hair upon her shoulders. Her brown enchanting eyes focused on a paper upon the feather quill pen beside her. Her lips curled into a warming smile embracing her own self in the beautiful nature. On her lap, with a paper laid upon the wooden tray.

Writing to a friend whom she never met, but met in letters from a different country. In Northern Germany in the city of Mirow whereas she was in Southeastern France in the city of Avignon. From the left corner of the letter, it said Dear Charlotte. She wrote about her day, a freeing day where she felt alive with her soaring wings in the air. Longing for that each day it would be the same in her life.

Never want that feeling to be stopped. Concluding a letter signed Warmly Anastasia.

Anastasia closed the box along with a written letter ready to be sent to the post with a warming smile on her face. Standing up in her white bell sleeve chiffon dress with a corset that reached to her bare feet. Running down the hill as she followed a view of her home.

A castle with vines and flowers where she grew up in royalty. Running to her father, Claude, whom she looked up to the most in the past eighteen years of her life. Always tells her so many stories filled with adventures and fairy tales, minding the royalty politics. She never wanted to be royalty. Never wanted to be a princess. Growing up in royalty had left her shackled from independence. All she ever wanted was to be her own self without titles, but in her own name, in her own right.

Her mother died at the age of twelve and she had an older brother that she despised the most, Laurent. A shallow and arrogant man who disgusted her with every fiber of her soul. Always thinks that women who aren't afraid to speak their minds are nonsense to him, only wants them to respect men's highest degree more.

That's why she was free that evening as she picked up the collection of flowers along the way. She ran to the servants' door, waving to the servants who knew her dearly. Waving each person into the kitchen and washing room where maids washed her dresses and the articles of clothing provided.

She ran upstairs, ignoring the warnings from the servants about her dirt-covered feet that were stuck in the meadow. They shook their heads with a sort of smile after she giggled her way to her bedchamber. She shut the door as she held two hands of a writing box and flowers.

Approaching her table, setting down the flowers and box down. She opened the box and then folded a letter to her dear friend with one wildflower inside to take a scent of her independence, purple. Pouring a red wax on the tip of the folded letter that revealed a seal of V. Valiant.

Anastasia gave the letter to her maid, Elise, who was grown to be her dearest companion.

She walked toward the doors which she opened to let the sun blossom on her body and soul. She walked upon the balcony, watching a view of the field. Resting her arms on the railing. Closing her eyes as she inhaled the fresh air, then opened her eyes. Smiling until her cheeks hurt.

From her right, hearing the horses trotting. There was a carriage that she didn't recognize. Furrowing her eyebrows to see a carriage with footmen dressed in strange suit in red and gold. She turned her back and opened her doors. Never minding her feet and dress was appropriate to see the visitor to her family's castle.

She walked down the hallway, passing the servants carrying baskets of vegetables from the garden. Her eyes searched every room until she caught an eye with her father through a parting door discussing with a man dressed in champagne clothing. Claiming to be a lord from some other country in England, United Kingdom.

Claude seemed to be hesitant as he picked up the quill pen. He looked over as she saw her brother standing afar with arms behind his back. Sharing eyes with the men in her family. After Laurent gave Claude a look, he obeyed as he signed a contract with a lord.

Anastasia gasped lightly while she backed away, then she peeked again. A lord was shaking each man in the room while her father's eyes were distant with regret. Laurent's eyes have a sense of pride. Without hesitating, she burst the doors. Commanding for answers, "What is the meaning of this?"

The men in the room were shocked and surprised to see a miniature lady in a dress that was natural with her bare feet on a rug. With a voice that remained strong while Claude and Laurent shared looks. Never knowing the words coming from Laurent's mouth will consume her in terror.

"Anastasia... you are to be married."