The Unwanted Princess

Oh No...

Lady Seraphina disappeared. I tried to get into contact with her to meet up for tea once more, but nothing. Loria was oblivious to the whole ordeal, but was still rather frayed with Lady Seraphina's sudden silence. She wasn't just avoiding me, but Loria as well.

I felt it was quite unfair to rope Loria in with all this mess, but I also must commend Lady Seraphina for maintaining some sort of chivalry. She is but a handmaid, such matters shouldn't concern her at all. I guess that's one thing me and her could agree on subconsciously.

I don't think I ever wanted to recognize the solemn truth that I could be at a greater fault in this than initially presumed. I had no idea of my parents involvement at this time nor to what level they were. I simply thought if it was really that great of a deal I would know about it from them. How stupidly naive. I felt I couldn't help but understand Simon's initial disgust and disinterest in me all together. It wasn't that he didn't think I was on some level attractive, as you have seen he admitted that himself, but that he couldn't stand the way I folicked along like a child when I was ought to be an adult.

Half of the things that are a mystery to me at this point may not even be a mystery to you. You probably have this all figured out by now, all of the gross details I tried to spare, but I am sure that I failed at with my mediocre level of writing following my forgery of philosophical rhetoric I was taught in my early studies. I wonder too how obvious my story is, how repetitive it is to you. To even be reading this you must be a great deal bored from other novels and happened to stumble upon this in a desperation to be pulled out of a slump only to be disappointed.

When I write this, it is many years later from the story I tell now. Though it really isn't a story now is it? It is my life, fiction to you or not. I won't spoil the end, I'll let you get there on your own, though if my lazy analysis of you is correct you already know how this story will end.

Continuing on, Lady Seraphina was somewhat of a mystery. I thought I knew her quite well, or at least enough for us to call each other friends. I think she would say the same too, even now. Simon only became more irritable the more I failed at every turn to do the one job he asked of me. For the life of me I couldn't find the woman. She ran off somewhere I don't know.

On many occasions I tried to explain this to him, but my words fell upon deaf ears. He didn't want to hear it unless I had something useful to say. Maybe he thought I was deliberately withholding information. Thinking back, that's not a wild assumption. I couldn't prove my innocence nor could he prove my guilt. Even though we wanted to start anew, even though we promised to trust one another, there was still this lingering musk of disapproval in the air. It was thick like muck and impossible to tread through, but if you stopped moving you would sink all together. Much like a tar pit, black and ominous, foreboding. Death lingers around its borders. Shrieking, bubbling, skin boiling tar is decorated by it's trophies of animal carcass' and bones, some unidentifiable, some undeniably human.

The Queen began to have unrest as well, she was weary to an almost paranoid degree. Even the King seemed stressed, which was incredibly unsettling considering how laid back his demeanor usually is. It racked me with a new wave of anxiety and a case of the cold sweats that I couldn't break for a week. I was stuck in Simon's bed, which obviously bothered him. I was dirtying his space, mucking it up just as our distrust of each other mucked up any breathable air between us.

He stayed in a separate room while I was ill. I was so tired and drugged up I didn't even realize he was gone. I was hallucinating, I just had to be. There were a few indescribable moments where I knew I did visit me, talking so low I could only respond with a blank, sleepy stare. Other times the hologram of what I thought was him blurred in and out of my dazes with scrutiny. A nurse I accidentally even called Simon, which only led to her calling him in with a worried glance in my direction. He was oddly sweet that day and that day only. I only say that because he changed the wet cloth on my head with a new one so carefully that it felt like he made the word all together.