My Princess - LINGORM

2

The sun streamed through the penthouse windows, but it didn't warm the knot of dread forming in my stomach. I sat at the dining table, staring at the paper in front of me. A bright, bold "D+" was circled at the top of my economics exam. It felt like a punch to the gut.

How could this have happened? I studied. I paid attention in class, at least most of the time. The lecture that day had been dull, sure, but I thought I'd grasped the main points. Clearly, I hadn't. The weight of failure settled heavily on my chest.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair as I tried to process the situation. Economics wasn't my strongest subject, but I had never expected to do this poorly. Worse still, I knew what this grade meant. There was no way my mother wouldn't find out. As a princess, I couldn't just be "okay" at something—perfection was expected. I needed to be on top of everything.

My phone buzzed, the vibration breaking the silence. I glanced at the screen and saw a message from my mother.

We need to talk. Now.

I sighed, my heart sinking further. Of course, she already knew. When you're the daughter of the Queen, nothing escapes her attention. I could practically hear her voice, stern and disappointed, echoing in my head.

The drive to the palace wasn't long, but it felt like an eternity. My hands fidgeted in my lap as I thought about what my mother might say. Would she be angry? Disappointed? Probably both. She was always so calm and composed, but underneath that exterior was a woman who expected nothing less than excellence from her children.

As I arrived at the palace, I made my way through the familiar halls, trying to steel myself for the conversation ahead. The ornate doors to my mother's office were slightly ajar, and I took a deep breath before pushing them open.

She was sitting at her desk, dressed in one of her usual elegant gowns, her posture perfect as always. Her sharp eyes lifted to meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

"Orm," she finally spoke, her voice steady, but there was no warmth in it. "Please, sit down."

I sat across from her, the tension in the air thickening. My mother, the Queen, was always composed, but that only made moments like this more intimidating.

"I received your economics exam results today," she said, holding up a folder, her expression unreadable. "A D+."

I swallowed hard, unsure what to say. There was no point in trying to defend myself. The grade spoke for itself.

"I'm... sorry," I managed to say, my voice quieter than I'd intended.

She sighed softly, placing the folder down. "Orm, you know how important these studies are. Economics is not just about numbers—it's about understanding how to manage wealth, resources, and the responsibilities that come with your position. As a princess, you cannot afford to fall behind."

"I know," I said, feeling the familiar weight of expectation pressing down on me. "I'll do better next time. I'll study harder."

"I'm sure you will," she replied, her tone still cool. "But we cannot rely on promises. I've already taken steps to ensure this doesn't happen again."

I blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

She leaned back in her chair, her hands clasped together on the desk. "I've hired a private tutor for you."

The words hit me like a slap in the face. A tutor? Was she serious?

"I don't need a tutor," I protested, sitting up straighter. "I can handle this on my own."

"Clearly, that hasn't been the case," she said, her gaze sharp. "This grade shows that you need help, Orm. There's no shame in that. But we cannot afford for you to fall behind any further."

I bit my lip, trying to suppress my frustration. A tutor felt like admitting defeat, like I couldn't handle my own responsibilities. My mother's solution wasn't just about the grade—it was about control, ensuring that every aspect of my life was managed perfectly.

"Who is this tutor?" I asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance in my voice.

"She comes highly recommended," my mother said, ignoring my tone. "Her name is Ling. She has an excellent track record with students of high status. She'll be working with you closely, starting tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I repeated, incredulous. "You didn't even ask me if I wanted this."

"There is no 'want' in this, Orm," my mother said, her voice firm now. "You need this. Ling will ensure you stay on track. You will meet with her as scheduled, and you will do your best. This is non-negotiable."

My jaw tightened, anger bubbling up inside me. I knew better than to argue with her—once my mother made a decision, there was no changing it. But that didn't mean I had to like it.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, more to myself than to her.

"What's ridiculous," she replied coolly, "is you letting your pride get in the way of improving yourself. Ling is here to help you. I expect you to take this seriously."

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "Fine. I'll meet her. But I don't need her."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and left the room, my heart pounding with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. As I walked back through the palace halls, I couldn't shake the feeling of failure clinging to me. This wasn't just about a bad grade—it was about control, about my mother making decisions for me without even considering how I felt.

By the time I got back to my penthouse, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the city. I dropped my bag on the couch and collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

A tutor. The very thought of it made my skin crawl. I didn't need someone hovering over me, telling me what to do. I wasn't a child anymore. I could handle my studies, my responsibilities. I just... needed more time.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it was Yoko.

Yoko: Hey, how did it go with your mom?

I sighed, typing out a quick reply.

Me: She hired a tutor for me. I don't even get a say in it.

Yoko's response was immediate.

Yoko: A tutor? Ugh, that sucks. But maybe it won't be so bad?

Me: Doubt it.

I tossed my phone aside, not wanting to think about it any longer. Tomorrow, I'd meet this Ling, and I already knew I wouldn't like her. It wasn't her fault, but that didn't change the fact that I didn't want her here. This was my life, and I didn't need anyone else trying to control it.

But whether I liked it or not, tomorrow would come. And with it, a new chapter in my life that I hadn't asked for.