Realms United

CHAPTER TWO - Bridget

I hate being a princess.

My father tells me it is a gift to be in the Royal Family. I view it as nothing but a curse. Ever since I was little I was spoiled, given everything I ever wanted. I shouldn't be complaining. I could have the life of a peasant struggling to find scraps of food to eat, instead of having a warm castle to come into and a soft bed to lay my head in at night. Townspeople call me ungrateful for not wanting the life I have.

The truth is I never asked to be born into Royalty. I never asked to be a princess. I never asked for a golden crown to place on top of my head. I never asked for any of it. I never asked to be spoiled. I don't want to be spoiled. If I attempted to do anything on my own my father would scold me for it.

We have a servant for that. Is always what he would tell me.

I don't want to have a servant tack up my 'noble steed' when my father pisses me off once again and I just need to ride away from the castle. I don't want a servant to cook me food and have to hover over their shoulder to tell them how I want my meals cooked when I can simply just be doing it myself. I don't want to be treated like Royalty.

Royal people are just scumbags.

...

When I was younger, my father and mother did everything with me. Things were peaceful then. My father wasn't stressed about anything really. There were two of them, and they ruled side by side. Every decision they made was equal. My mother was the brains and my father was the brawn. They were known for that.

My father was mainly known for stopping a bloodied battle all those years ago. He was viewed as a god to some, and others thought he was pathetic for stopping a battle that they claimed needed to happen, but either way, my father was well known.

So when I was born, my name spread like wildfire. Everyone knew who I was. My father made a point to get me home-schooled so I wouldn't have to deal with anyone beyond the castle walls. He wanted me to be at peace and not worry about what trouble my Royal title would bring me to. He was protective, and he loved me dearly. I was my fathers whole world.

My mother loved me as well. Unlike my father who has peace written inside of his mind, my mother was a fighter. If I didn't know any better I would think she was a Valkyrie who had retired from battle. Her skin was blissful perfection and her hair was golden and wavy. The heavy crown that weighed on her head made her image ten times more powerful. Unlike my father she wore light golden armor. That only brought out her features more. Her hazel eyes would shine when the sun hit her figure just right as well. My mother was truly a goddess. She was the one who taught me how to fight.

She always knew that one day I was going to grow up and want to explore the world instead of being locked away inside of a castle. She didn't want me to have my fathers mindset. She wanted me to be able to fight if I needed to defend myself, instead of yelling for help, helplessly. She was very capable of training me to battle. She trained thousands of my fathers knights.

My father on the other hand was a peacekeeper. Since he had the treaty made and signed by all of the other Kingdoms, he has retired his ways of traveling and the idea of war is the last thing he would think of. He talks about how he would do anything in his power to prevent another bloodied battle. He didn't want innocent people to die trying to protect land.

He was always against my mother training me to fight. He always would tell her that I had no need to truly go out and explore the world since I was a princess. It wasn't a woman's job in life to go out and explore. I was meant to stay home and make decisions.

Sometimes I wondered how my father had managed to get with my mother. It wasn't an arranged marriage. My mother had fallen for my father.

He was a simple man. White as snow with a dark beard that ran across his face. It was thick, but well kept. Underneath that dark beard with gray shining through, his jaw was defined. Maybe that was the feature that my mother had fallen for. Or maybe it was his dark emerald eyes that she found attractive. The crown he wore on his head was massive, and heavy. It was gold with pieces of obsidian running through it. It was a powerful crown, for a powerful figure. Yet even though my fathers age showed, his wise decisions also laid across his face.