Princess of Butterflies

Chapter 1

It was 10 PM, and the stars shimmered like diamonds scattered across the velvet sky. Celia, the princess of the Kingdom of the Jungle's Heart, stood in her chamber, draped in a magnificent wedding gown of gold and silver. Tomorrow, she was to marry Prince Aliestar, heir to the Sky Bound kingdom. The gown was a masterpiece, woven with threads of sunlight and adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of royal lineage. Every bead and embroidery shimmered with a light of its own, and for a moment, she could almost convince herself that it represented a future filled with promise.

Her father, a wise and compassionate ruler, had always been an open-minded man, never pressuring his children into anything. Yet when he asked if she wanted to marry Aliestar, the words had slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to fully process their meaning. Fear of disappointment gripped her heart, and she simply nodded, unsure of what she was really agreeing to. Now, as she stood alone in her chamber, the weight of that decision felt suffocating, pressing down on her like a heavy cloak.

The walls of her chamber, the very room where she had spent her childhood, seemed to close in on her, echoing with the memories of laughter, joy, and the freedom she once felt. She stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows that danced across her face. The gown was exquisite, a work of art-but it felt foreign on her, like armor for a battle she hadn't chosen. Each delicate layer wrapped around her body reminded her of the chains of expectation that held her captive.

Her mind raced, filled with memories of her father's gentle smile, of her carefree days running through the meadows with Jullan and Kai. They were her anchors, her true companions, who had always encouraged her to dream beyond the confines of her royal duties. How had things changed so quickly? She wanted to live up to her father's expectations, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking down a path that wasn't hers. The looming wedding felt like a sentence rather than a celebration, and she yearned for the wild, unrestrained spirit she had once known.

Celia moved to the window, her heart pounding as she looked out at the sprawling kingdom. Beyond the palace grounds, the forest stretched endlessly, a dark sea of shadows under the moonlight. The cool breeze that flowed through her window carried with it the scent of damp earth and blooming nightflowers, a reminder of the life waiting for her beyond these walls. Somewhere out there, Jullan and Kai were waiting for her. They were the only ones who understood her heart, the only ones she could trust with this secret. A tiny flicker of hope ignited within her-could they still escape?

A soft knock came from the heavy wooden door, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Come in," Celia called softly, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with the tension that coiled in her stomach.

"Milady, is there anything you need before bed? Perhaps your usual night milk tea?" Mira, one of her loyal maids, asked as she stepped into the room, her presence quiet and respectful.

Celia shook her head, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask than a genuine expression. "Oh... Not tonight, thank you, Mira." Her throat felt tight, the words coming out more strained than she intended. Mira seemed to sense that something was amiss but said nothing. She simply nodded, bowed slightly, and turned to leave, her footsteps echoing faintly down the hallway as she closed the door behind her.

Once alone, Celia felt the weight of her solitude settle around her like a shroud. The candlelight flickered ominously, shadows shifting across the room, mimicking the chaos in her heart. She waited until the sound of Mira's footsteps faded completely before springing into action. This was it-the moment she had been preparing for, the moment she would seize her destiny.

With shaking hands, she pulled off the heavy gown, laying it across the bed as if it were a symbol of the life she was about to leave behind. The fabric, once beautiful and desired, now felt like a reminder of her confinement. Slipping into a simpler nightdress, she grabbed the cloak she had hidden beneath her wardrobe, throwing it over her shoulders and pulling the hood low over her face. It was made of a thick, dark material that would help her blend into the night, providing a sense of comfort amidst her turmoil.