🗡️ A powerful King Stark rules over the land of Jarvonia, but without a son as an heir, his enemies are vying for his throne.
That is until he realises his true power may lie in his fierce and stubborn daughter, and whom he can wed her to...🗡️
So...
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Princess Loretta was used to having Anthony Stark as a Father.
He was dramatic, powerful, wealthy, charismatic, intelligent and sarcastic to list a few qualities.
But one thing he was not, was forgiving.
The Princess believed that her Father never forgave her for being the reason her mother, the Queen, was no longer with them.
Although she had died during childbirth, she was sure her Father had never seen her as anything other than a cause of death for his sweet Virginia. Particularly as she had not been born a male, to carry on his name and bloodline.
She had known the tired and demanding version of her Father, something that the Kingdom often did not see behind closed doors. They were used to the character he played for them, doting to his followers and deadly to his enemies.
They had not seen the nights he had scorned her for having such a sharp tongue for a lady, or when he had shook her so hard as she had spilt ink on his architectural plans for a new weapon that her teeth had chattered. They were not privy to the nights she cried out of loneliness in her chambers, only for her Father to hear her weep and purposefully walk the other way.
She had grown up, as a result of this, wildly independent and stubborn, desperate to prove herself to him, despite getting nothing in return. Half of her longed to appease him and seek his approval, the other half longed to stab a sword into his neck and watch the crimson liquid pool against his chest.
Princess Loretta had just turned nineteen years of age, and she was yet to be wed. She knew her time would come soon enough, but she prayed to whatever deity looked down upon them that it would not be soon.
She was far too concerned with matters such as astronomy, literature and plays, learning swordsmanship, and tending to her horses.
She saw no need for men, especially when all they seemed to bring was violence and suffering.
The Princess had her best friend, her handmaiden, Wanda Maximoff, who's own Father, an immigrant from a neighbouring kingdom, had worked for their family for many years after seeking asylum here.
Wanda was her replacement for companionship. She told the pretty redhead everything, desperately needing someone to share the weight of her thoughts. Wanda was sweet and shy and held her secrets as if they were her own.
Together they would sneak off in the night, leaving the castle once they knew the guards were asleep, and running through the moonlight to practice their fighting, or perhaps discuss politics that were forbidden from women.
Other than her Father, Loretta could not complain about her life much. She wanted for nothing, any gown she desired was made for her, any meal she craved was cooked for her, and any paintings she liked was purchased for her.
