The Unwanted Princess

A Dance of Duty and Responsibility

I spent the rest of the day moping about the palace, my desperation evident in my slouched posture. Simon's behavior was beyond rude. Had his father not taught him how to treat a lady? His lack of manners and disregard for decorum epitomized everything a noble should not be. From the brief conversations I had with his father, he seemed quite the gentleman. Simon, however, must be a mommy's boy with his attitude problem. But even that didn't make sense with the apparent disdain he had for women. Maybe he's just traditional?

I was taught all my life how to be subservient to a man, to take care of him, to be the perfect wife. Naturally, I tend to be weak-minded, but I am a stubborn lass at heart. It has gotten me into a world of trouble, not just with Simon. When I was younger, it was impossible to keep my opinions to myself. In Eldoria, where I grew up, the expectations were clear and unyielding. My mother would constantly remind me of my place, her sharp words a constant reminder of what I was supposed to be. "Elara, a lady speaks softly and only when spoken to," she would say, her eyes narrowing in disapproval whenever I dared to voice an opinion.

But I couldn't help myself. My father, a lesser noble with dreams bigger than his means, had always encouraged my curiosity. He would take me on long walks through our estate, showing me the intricacies of the land and the importance of understanding the people we governed. "Knowledge is power, Elara," he'd say, his voice filled with warmth and wisdom. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

And I never did. I wasn't stupid, and I knew it. How was I meant to be a proper princess if I didn't understand the basics of the economy, math, social structures, proper English, politics, and history? I was a curious kid with strong, unwavering viewpoints. Yet, I submit to a man with a commanding voice at the tick of a second hand on a clock.

I wandered through the ornate halls, my heels clicking softly against the marble floors, my thoughts swirling like the intricate patterns of the tapestries that adorned the walls. Each room I passed through was a testament to the kingdom's wealth and history—grand chandeliers sparkling with countless crystals, priceless artworks capturing scenes of heroic battles and serene landscapes, and plush carpets that muffled my footsteps, making the palace seem even more vast and lonely. It was clear Simon had no intention of making this alliance pleasant.

I wondered about the history of each art piece. The paintings that adorned the walls told tales of glory and honor, of victories won and sacrifices made. I often found myself lost in these scenes, imagining the lives of the people captured in the brushstrokes. Did they wish to tell stories like me? What were their dreams, hopes, and fears?

As I moved from room to room, I thought about the countless generations that had walked these halls before me. It had seen kings and queens rise and fall, alliances forged and broken. Now, it was my turn to add to its storied history, whether I wanted to or not.

I made my way to the east wing, hoping to find solace in the gardens. I was so lost in thought I didn't even realize the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the meticulously maintained flower beds. The air was fragrant with the scent of roses and jasmine, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient oak trees. I found a secluded bench beneath a pergola draped with blooming wisteria and sat down heavily, my silk gown pooling around me.

As I sat there, lost in the vastness of my own mind, a familiar voice broke the silence. "Lady Elara, you look troubled."

I looked up to see Lady Seraphina, one of the most influential noblewomen in the kingdom, standing before me. Her elegant gown of deep purple velvet contrasted beautifully with her pale complexion, and her hair was arranged in an intricate braid adorned with pearls.

As I sat there, lost in thought, a familiar voice broke the silence. "Lady Elara, you look troubled."

We had exchanged pleasantries once before, during the coronation, and I had found her to be quite pleasant. The historical context of our relationship was far more complex, though.