Princess by chance

1

B. Dedication: LiebeKlara

Camilla POV

I woke up to the sound of a slap.

A sharp sting on my cheek brought me to my senses, and I realized I was lying on the floor in my room.
My uncle was standing over me, his face twisted in rage.

''Get up, you lazy girl!'' he shouted. I scrambled to my feet, not wanting to anger him any further.

"Good morning, Uncle," I said, trying to keep my voice even. But he wasn't having it.

"Shut up, you little brat," he snarled. "I don't want to hear your slutty voice. Now get to work, and make us breakfast."

I flinched as he smacked my backside, then I hurried into the kitchen. There, I found Sasha and Damion, my uncle's twins, who were my age. I forced a smile and said, "Good morning." But they just sneered at me. "Go away, you little urchin," said Sasha.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But Uncle said I should make breakfast."

Damion looked at me with a cruel smirk, no doubt remembering how he'd taken advantage of me the night before. I wanted to cry, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. This was my life, and I had to get used to it.

"Your food is terrible," said Damion, slapping my backside. He grabbed my breasts, giving them a cruel squeeze before sauntering out of the kitchen. Sasha tossed the cold water she'd been drinking in my face, then went to the living room.

As I brought breakfast to the dining room, my legs shook, my whole body trembling with fear. But I kept my head down, knowing that any sign of weakness would only make Uncle more angry.
I placed the plates on the table, then turned to leave.

"Camilla!''he barked, his voice like a whip. I flinched, and my heart pounded in my chest. ''What kind of garbage is this?'' he demanded, his eyes blazing. ''You think you can feed us this swill?'' I said nothing, hoping he would just let me go. But then, his belt came down on my body.

My stomach churned as I felt his blows rain down on me. I tried to cower away from him, but he only hit me harder, his rage escalating with every blow. I felt my knees weaken, and I fell to the floor, curling into a ball. But he didn't stop. He kicked me and spat at me, calling me names I'd never even heard before. ''I'll teach you,'' he yelled, his voice growing hoarse. '' I'll make you pay for your insolence.''

In the aftermath of that humiliating ordeal, I felt a surge of defiance and determination. My uncle's disdainful gaze, coupled with Sasha and Damion's mocking laughter, fueled a desire to break free. "Let's go," my uncle sneered, plotting a future reckoning. "When we come back, we'll deal with her. I'll make you pay for your insolence," he declared, punctuating his words by callously pouring the remnants of our meal over me.

As their car disappeared down the street, I stared out the window, a mix of frustration and despair gnawing at me. Unable to endure the toxicity any longer, I hastily grabbed my uncle's purse, pocketing a handful of cash. With little regard for my appearance, I hailed a cab to the airport, determined to escape the clutches of that oppressive environment.

In a whirlwind of emotions, I hastily boarded a flight to New York, enduring a five-hour wait at the airport without belongings or even a shower, my mind haunted by the tragic memories of my past - the loss of my parents, with my father taking my mother's life before his own, leaving me trapped in my uncle's care.

After 18 hours flying, I stumbled off the plane, probably the smelliest passenger, dashed to a restaurant for a feast (don't judge, I was starving), . Just as I stepped out, three big dudes appeared, one asking,
"Princess Daisy, where've you been?"

Amidst fatigue and confusion, I glanced around, realizing I was the sole player in this odd scene. "Sorry, but I think you've got the wrong person," I mumbled, to which another replied, "Your father, the king, is so worried; we've been looking for a year now." They insisted I follow them to the palace, critiquing my appearance. As they chauffeured me in a flashy Lamborghini, a mischievous thought crossed my mind-maybe a day as the long-lost princess could be my unexpected escape, even if it meant living someone else's story.

As we entered the grandeur of the palace, the man I assumed to be the king rushed toward me with open arms, joy radiating from his face. He enveloped me in a tight hug, planting a gentle peck on my forehead. "Honey, our daughter is back!" he exclaimed, the echoes of his announcement resonating through the regal halls.

Following suit, a woman, undoubtedly the queen and the mother of Princess Daisy, approached with an air of anticipation. A girl around 14, whom I assumed to be my sister, ran towards us. She wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace, exclaiming with genuine excitement, "Sissy, I miss you! Where have you been? Why are you looking so pale?"

Caught in this surreal family reunion, I struggled to find the right words. The regal surroundings added to the unreality of the situation, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this was a borrowed identity. Yet, amid the royal embrace, I couldn't deny the warmth and affection that enveloped me, creating a tapestry of conflicting emotions and unexpected connections in the heart of the palace

Feeling both tired and overwhelmed, I couldn't contain the weariness any longer. "I'm tired, I need to sleep. Let's continue this reunion when I wake up," I mumbled, seeking respite from the whirlwind of emotions and information.

"Okay, darling. We're going to set a party to bless the gods for giving you back to us. Riele, take your sister to her room and don't disturb her," my assumed mother, the queen, instructed.

Led by Riele, as I now knew, we made our way to my room. However, the peace I sought was short-lived as she began sharing her teenage exploits. "I saw my first period last week," she exclaimed, followed by a cascade of confessions about boys and breakups. Annoyed by the unwarranted information, I finally interrupted her, "Riele, I need to sleep."

As she left the room, I released a heavy sigh, contemplating the complexities of the borrowed life I now found myself entangled in.

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QOTC: if you were in Camila shoes would you wanna live as the princess forever?

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