🗡️ 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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Twirling in her mirror, the Princess felt satisfied she looked beautiful enough to entertain the three guests tonight.
Wanda had picked out a deep maroon, velvety dress that cinched in at her waist with a jewelled belt, adorned with rubies and gold. Her breasts were pushed to the top of the corset tantalisingly which she knew would drive the men wild. The neckline of the dress sat in a perfect 'V' shape and was decorated with golden leaf accents that sparkled in the light.
Her long hair was free flowing in loose curls as she nestled her crown into her locks to top it off. Wanda held out her lip paint, as Loretta took it from her and pressed a little rouge against her full pout.
"You look beautiful Princess." Wanda said in awe, as Loretta smiled widely.
"Thank you Wands. I am not going to lie, I am feeling rather anxious right now for what is in store." Loretta picked the skin near her nails nervously. Wanda swatted her hand away.
"Why do you not go for a walk around the grounds for a moment? Collect yourself before the feast. I need to finish getting ready, but I can come with you if you would prefer." Wanda suggested.
Loretta shook her head. Her friend was right. She needed to keep preoccupied and moving. The fearful pit in her stomach was building by the moment.
"It is ok, I will go for a stroll. You are correct, that will help." She pursed her lips, smoothing down her dress and leaving her handmaiden to get prepared herself.
Loretta managed to sneak beyond Quill, who was talking to his favourite servant girl, Mora, outside the chambers. Men were all the same.
She walked the halls that she had roamed her whole life. When she was younger, the castle had felt so vast and terrifying, but now having spent nearly two decades, she was no longer afraid of the walls that once trapped her in.
Portraits of her mother and father covered the castle, alongside generations of royalty dating back the last four hundred years. Loretta wondered if one day hers will sit amongst them, pondering whose shoulder she would be laying her hand on in the painting. It gave her butterflies and a type of melancholia at the thought.
The ceilings of the castle were embellished with intricate artwork of cherubs, deities, flora and gems. When she was a babe, Loretta had lay for hours underneath, trying to make up stories about the creatures in the artistry, wishing they would come to life and keep her company. She had created a whole life for herself amongst those daydreams.
Loretta suddenly heard her Father's angry voice from around the corner, bouncing off the walls. She froze, not wanting to bump into him and be scolded for not staying in her chambers until the feast, so she lifted up the hem of her dress and quietly ran down the opposite corner, taking a few turns to put distance between them.
