The Prophecy in the Forest

Chapter Two: A Different Path for a Prince

Prince Rafael Paladin sat in his thrown, overlooking the revelry down below. His mother had thrown a party, hoping to match Raf up with a bride sooner rather than later. In the realm of Badaxe, these balls were common.

Raf had a real problem with how young most of these girls were. He was twenty-five, and these girls were about fifteen through nineteen. He knew it was common in the realm for girls to get married as young as fourteen when their parents could arrange a successful match. Raf had no interest in taking a child bride. It fucking disgusted him.

His parents had been married when his father was his age, and his mother was fourteen. His mother always said it was "the best thing that ever happened to her." He was pretty certain it was because she had grown up in horrific poverty, and her only hope for a way out was being married off as soon as possible.

Never in her wildest dreams did she see herself married to the prince, who would become king. It was what young girls were taught to aspire to, but Raf thought that idea was antiquated and disgusting. As if they were incapable, crippled by being born a female. The most they could ever be was a wife, a mother, a queen if they were lucky enough.

"Rafael, sit up straight," The queen hissed. Seraphine looked resplendent in her ball gown, a poufy confection in the shade of a primrose. She had given Raf his tangle of golden curls, but his father had given him his honey-brown eyes and charismatic smile. His mother had a smile that peeked out only sometimes as if her face was a cloudy sky that only parted briefly. She was prim and proper, and docile. Raf sometimes wondered who she could have been if she had been free to choose it for herself.

"Yes, ma'am," Raf corrected his posture. It was so silly, all this adjusting and pretending. And for what? To marry a child?

"I know how you feel about this, Rafael, but really. Girls are meant to be married, and think of the great favor you'll be doing their families if you choose their daughter!" Seraphine beamed, placing a hand on Raf's shoulder. "And just imagine how proud your father would be."

Raf fought to keep the grimace off his face. His father? The man who had no qualms about marrying a child? Who had beat Raf and his mother for the slightest faults, or sometimes for his entertainment?

It had been the happiest day of Raf's life when his father had passed away. He didn't celebrate openly, of course, but he had felt the weight of the world fall off his shoulders. That happened when Raf turned seventeen.

His mother fell into a deep depression, one that lasted for years. She didn't know who she was without him, and it had hurt Raf to see her that sad. The only thing that pulled her out of her stupor was making an effort to marry Rafael. He felt for her, but marriage to a child bride was simply not his path. He would never become his father.

It appeared she was living out her favorite memories through Raf, but she had always had the wrong idea about who Rafael was. He was born for a higher calling, he could feel it in his soul.

Raf didn't plan on marrying anyone anytime soon. His mother didn't know this yet, but Raf planned on traveling this summer and fall, and maybe winter depending upon where the seasons took him. He would visit the territories, and see how other people lived. He would experience the world.

"Look at her over there," His mother prodded, pointing a long manicured finger in the direction of a small brunette with her shoulders squared, jaw set in a determined manner. Raf could tell she was nervous but playing confident, and if he wasn't mistaken, he swore he could see some anger there. He didn't blame her. This whole ball was sick.

"Mother, that's a child," Raf rolled his eyes. "Don't you think this is wrong?"

Seraphine gasped. "So you find what your father and I had wrong? Do you think you know so much better than your elders? You would dare question and go against our standards?"