When vengeance strikes in the form of a bullet out for the princess's blood, Princess Aleia VonAuclair must flee the heart of her country in order to protect the people she loves and take back the pieces of her soul she'd lost to the girl she once l...
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Bread. Check
Eggs. Check
Chocolate. Check
Pasta. Check
I crossed off the items on my grocery list one by one, browsing around the endless aisles with a slight skip in my step.
Bryan had told me to just ask Greta, one of our kitchen helpers, to get all the items I needed but I'd refused, much to his obvious chagrin. I couldn't see him, but I could feel him throwing daggers at the back of my head.
The grocery store was one of the few places I could let my guard down and my mind wander, and even though, Bryan and a couple guards still shadowed me, the idea that I blended in as just any other ordinary shopper took the edge off of a long day of doing non-mundane princess things.
Even though I wasn't in Asrea anymore, my responsibilities towards my country and my people were still mine to follow through - mine to uphold. Albeit they were on the simpler side of duties since I was only the princess, they were still duties, nonetheless.
I'd just finished an entire days' worth of charting out all the villages in need of monetary aid in the face of a food shortage with Asrea's bad plantations when I'd needed a break. The simple, mindless task offered a reprieve from all the heavy thoughts and unending worries.
Exhibit A: Figuring out how to sanction the monetary aid equally amongst villages, from those with a greater urgency to those with a slightly less gravity for it, all the while keeping it within the allocated budget. It was a large budget, but it was also a large number of villages in need.
Exhibit B: Thinking of a way to communicate my findings and plans to the palace without setting off any trip wires.
Exhibit C: Finding a way to forget about the man whose lifelong goal was to plot my demise and hopefully, my end.Literally.
Maybe it was naive of me but figuring out which bread to choose and which type of pasta I wanted to eat, temporarily erased the fact that I had a target on my back, and such a target would never go away unless Aaron and the palace finally put a stop to him...or he gets what he wants. Just the thought sent a shiver down my spine.
I unconsciously began to chew the inside of my cheek, tearing the flesh apart raw. My eyes scanned through a row of pasta options and just as I reached for a box of Fettuccine Pasta, a sharp cry tore through the air from the other side of the aisle.
"Please, mommy. I weally, weally want it! It's my birthday tomorrow. Can I please have it?"
The girl's soft cry rang through my ears and my heart physically squeezed at the sound. My outstretched hand faltered in anticipation of her mother's response.
A heavy sigh, then another slightly louder voice sounded.
"Sweetheart, you know I can't afford it right now. We have to take care of Tyler, remember? I promise, once mommy has enough money, I'll buy it for you, okay?"
