The Unwanted Princess

The Puppet and the King

It was clear now that Simon didn't fancy me at all. He didn't pick me because he wanted me, he picked me because he had no other choice. I couldn't even hold his unbridled rage towards me against him.

Still, I had to play my part in this political charade. The kingdom depended on our alliance, and any hint of discord between us could unravel years of careful diplomacy. With a deep breath, I steeled myself and stepped into the grand ballroom, a place that now felt more like a gilded cage.

Simon stood at the center, conversing with a group of high-ranking officials. He looked every bit the charming prince, his smile disarming and his manner gracious. His composure was flawless, a mask he wore with effortless skill. He didn't even look fazed by our conversation from moments before, but when his eyes met mine, there was a flicker of something else—an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Was it regret? Anger? Pity? The uncertainty gnawed at me, a painful reminder of the distance between us.

"Lady Elara," he greeted, extending his hand towards me as if our heated conversation just moments before never occurred. I took it, and he led me into the crowd, introducing me to various dignitaries. Each introduction felt like a test, each smile a mask to hide my true feelings. I couldn't help but wonder if Simon felt the same.

"Your Grace, Lady Elara," a familiar voice interrupted our charade. It was Lady Seraphina, one of the kingdom's most influential nobles. Her presence was striking, with her pale complexion contrasting beautifully against her fiery red hair. She was older than me, but still a young woman, carrying herself with a grace and poise that commanded attention. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, sparkled with curiosity and something else—perhaps pity.

"What a lovely couple you make," she remarked, her voice smooth and cultured. There was an air of wisdom about her, a keen intellect that always seemed to see through the surface of things.

"Thank you, Lady Seraphina," Simon replied smoothly. "We are truly fortunate to have such support from our esteemed peers."

I managed a polite smile, though my heart wasn't in it. The evening dragged on, a blur of forced conversations and hollow pleasantries. It wasn't until later, when the crowd had thinned and the music had softened, that I finally was able to relax.

With the help of my servants, I shimmied out of my gown and bathed in soaps that smelled like warm vanilla. The lush, soft bed filled with duck and goose feathers was like a warm open hug from my mom. I fell asleep instantaneously.

Oddly enough, I woke before the sun even rose. I sat silently in her chambers, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the stone walls. My mind replayed the events of the day before: the strained smiles, the hushed whispers, and the ever-watchful eyes of the court. I felt like a pawn in a game she didn't fully understand, and it was starting to wear on me.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Enter," I called, my voice steady despite my inner turmoil.

The door creaked open, revealing my loyal handmaiden, Liora. She curtsied before speaking. "Your Highness, Prince Simon requests your presence in the library. He says it's urgent."

What could he possibly want at this time of the morning? Maybe I would be reprimanded after my outburst last night or maybe be told off by the Queen herself. His use of the word "urgent" was particularly alarming.

"Thank you, Liora. I'll go at once."

The corridors of the castle were dimly lit and eerily quiet at this hour. My footsteps echoed softly as I made my way to the library. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and found Simon pacing near a large table, his brow furrowed in concentration.