He's called for me.
Prince Cillian.
The moment I receive Word, I feel my heart begin to gallop in my chest until I'm clutching at the tight fabric around my bosoms in a panic.
I can't breathe. I can't breathe!
"Maria!" My maid, Rosalita, rushes across the room toward me. Wrinkles deepen on her face from her concerned expression as she grabs hold of my arms and shakes me out of my anxious stupor with strength that should evade a fifty-year-old woman.
From the rapid movement, some of her silvery hair escapes its loose ponytail and falls into her widening cerulean blue eyes. One more good jolt, and she nods slowly as I drag desperate gulps of air back into my lungs. "That's it. Good girl. Just breathe. You are going to be alright."
Alright was a generous way to describe my sullen fate at the hands of Prince Cillian. Doomed is a much more accurate description.
The things I've heard of Prince Cillian of Prua have been nothing but borderline evil. I know that some are probably the handy work of his tyrannical Father, King Lance, but the man should have dementia by now. He hasn't made a public appearance to address his citizens in over a year.
They laugh at the lower class, leaving the scraps for them after the Royal family and their noble friends are done enjoying the best of the harvest. One of my dearest friends, Ruth, migrated from there and told me horror stories from growing up as a servant in the castle.
Now I've spent my entire life wishing someone would save me from this fate.
It's too late.
I've been his since I was a baby--Promised to the ruthless Prince Cillian of Prua as a sign of peace between our countries. I thought I had more time. I thought I could find a way out of it. I thought I'd be saved from what I believe will be a bleak fate, but my eighteenth birthday has arrived, and I am due to say 'I do' before tomorrow night ends.
"But remember what Ruth-"
"Oh, Hush. Ruth was probably telling horror stories. You have to see that kind of stuff for yourself before you go putting yourself into a heart attack. Understand?"
Since the death of my parents and the throne of my home country, Kamarre, a smaller European country than Prua, having gone to my Uncle, Rosalita has been like a mother to me. Although she's my maid, I look to her for guidance and respect her like family.
"You don't know that," I croak as I plop down on my bed, hands folding in my lap defeatedly. I bow my head and tightly close my eyes.
Lord, please get me out of this! I don't want to go! I don't want to marry him!
A forceful knock on my bedroom door rips me from prayer and lands me back in reality, where I am destined to be the next Princess of Prua.
"Maria, you must be ready within the hour. You are to leave tonight." Uncle Miano, the acting King, sighs on the other side of the door when I don't respond to his instruction. "Maria, I'm serious."
"She will be ready, Your Highness."
I shake my head rapidly at Rosalita, wishing she'd stayed quiet.
Her eyes narrow, chastising me with a mere look.
My face blazes hot with embarrassment as I sigh.
"Fine!" I begin to respond before gnashing my teeth. "But wait! Rosalita is coming with me!"
"I'm sure Prince Cillian will have his own pick of maids for you-"
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon an Us
RomanceI've been His since I was a baby. Promised to the ruthless Prince Cillian of Prua as a sign of peace between our countries. I thought I had more time. I thought I could find a way out of it. I thought I'd be saved from what I believe will be a bleak...
