'A Princess and a Commoner: Star Crossed Lovers'

A Marriage of Duty

(ISADORA'S POV)

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The castle, once a prison, had become a place of quiet contemplation, a sanctuary where I could delay the inevitable. My father had relented, allowing me to postpone my marriage to Prince Julian—at least for a little while—since he was still away at war. I can only imagine what Prince Julian could be doing:

I shake my head

With each passing day, I clung to that small glimmer of hope, using it as a lifeline to keep my heart from sinking into despair.

As the seasons changed outside the castle walls, so did the atmosphere within. The air was thick with anticipation, and the halls whispered secrets of my impending fate. I spent my days wandering the gardens, where the flowers bloomed defiantly against the harshness of reality, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to my gray thoughts. Each petal reminded me of Gabriel, of laughter shared in stolen moments. I missed him more than I dared to admit, longing for the freedom to choose my own path, one that didn't involve a crown I wasn't ready to wear.

I often gazed out of the window in the great hall, watching the horizon, hoping to catch a glimpse of Julian's return. But my heart betrayed me, often wondering about Gabriel—what he was doing, how he was coping with my absence, and if he ever thought of me as I thought of him. The thought of being married to another man felt like an anchor, pulling me further from the light I once knew.

As I moved through the castle, I began to hear whispers about a new chef the king had appointed, one who was said to have transformed the royal kitchen into a culinary marvel. The rumors swirled through the castle like the scent of fresh-baked bread, tantalizing and impossible to ignore. I found myself intrigued, wondering what sort of man could command such attention and respect in the kitchens.

Suddenly, a voice broke my reverie. "Princess Isadora?"

I turned to see my lady-in-waiting, Elise, standing at a distance, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "The king wishes to speak with you."

"About what?" I mutter.

"I believe it's about the prince." Elise whispers.

My heart sank at the mention of Prince Julian. What could my father possibly want now? I followed Elise back to the throne room, each step heavy with dread. As I entered, I found my father seated at his grand desk, maps sprawled before him, the weight of leadership etched on his face.

"Isadora," he said, looking up as I approached. "Sit, please."

I obeyed, my heart pounding. "What is it, Father?"

"I received word that Prince Julian is returning from war," he began, his tone serious. "He will arrive in three days. We need to prepare for the wedding."

Three days. The words hung in the air, suffocating me. I had done everything in my power to delay this moment, yet now it loomed over me like a storm cloud, dark and ominous.

"Father, please. I need more time. I don't even know him!"

"He is a good man, Isadora. The kingdom needs this alliance, and so do you. You must accept your duty."

"But what about my happiness?" I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Your happiness is secondary to the needs of our kingdom," he replied firmly. "You will be a queen, and it is time you understand the weight of that responsibility."

I wanted to scream, to run from the confines of my life, but instead, I swallowed my anger and despair. "Fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

As I left the throne room, I felt the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. Three days. I had to find a way to make sense of it all, to reconcile my heart with the demands of my title.

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