Your Royal Highness

Prologue: one week ago

December 24
Mother slammed her fork down onto the table "James, we've been through this before," my mother's voice got louder. "You're meeting her tomorrow, end of discussion" I could feel my blood boiling as I yelled, "But Mom, I've told you before, I don't like girls!" My frustration was palpable as I stood my ground. It was clear that this was a battle of wills, and I wasn't about to back down.
"James, my dear, the time has come for you to find your destiny and find your princess. It is an age-old tradition, one that you have been avoiding for far too long. Countless suitors have come knocking at your door, only to be turned away, I don't want to hear about any of this 'I don't like girls' crap. You're marrying a princess whether you like it or not" I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I listened to my mom passionately talking about the stupid traditions and the idea of a prince and princess. I know this stupid tradition means a lot to her and this kingdom-or whatever but I'm not okay with her treating me like crap for not being "normal" According to her.
"Mother, I have a lot on my plate right now with school and upcoming balls I just-I don't have time right now" my mother sighed as she picked her fork up again. "With this attitude I don't think your going to be going to any balls" she said as I stared at her in disbelief "but mom, you told me if I let you put me on a diet and only studied I could go to a ball!" I complained. She promised me, I wasn't going to let her get away with this that fast. "James, I've had it up to here with your attitude! You constantly dodge anything that actually matters to you, and it's driving me insane. I wish you could be more like your brother, who was always a sweetheart and actually followed instructions. Why the heck is it so difficult for you?"
I sat there, defeated, in utter silence. The thought of her comparing me to my brother, who isn't even present, fills me with despair.
He was never the person our mother thought he was. He struggled in school and resorted to paying someone else to do his work for him. He would sneak out at night through secret passageways that our mother never even knew existed. The pain of being compared to him is unbearable. I glanced out the window next to me, we were on the top floor, if only I could find an escape from reality-or an actual escape.