Paper Rings

Chapter 3: Birthday Brat

A loud knock on her bedroom door woke her from her slumber. Her curtains were drawn back, and the morning light streamed into her room. She yawned, stretching her arms high above her head, before snuggling back into her bed. Her week was filled with paperwork and invitation lists. She made a list of all the possible candidates that she would court. Their pictures and names scattered across her bed.

After a moment of silence, her door swung open. Sound blared through the opening; her brothers were singing and shouting. She covered her ears, taking shelter under her blanket.

"Rise and shine, birthday brat!" Nicholas sang falsely. He yanked the blanket, the movement causing the colourful reflections of the jewels to dance. She sat up, her eyes barely open as she glared at the four princes in front of her. Her hair was sticking from all angles, and her eyes were still puffy with sleep. She yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"What time is it?" she croaked. The young princes were still dressed in their pajamas, but their hair were neat and faces clean. "It's so early," she whined when she saw them all grin.

"It's your birthday, little booger," Michael said, messing with her hair. "A day before your big celebration and possible doom," he gave a cheeky grin and flopped onto the bed, making a starfish. He lifted his head up as they all turned towards the door. Soft footsteps approached slowly, slipping in from the ajar door.

A cute cake was being carried by Lola, followed by the rest of the fiancées. They were all holding little present boxes, with big cheeky grins. Claire clapped her hands in excitement, her face radiating with glee. The cake seemed to glow in their hands, the white frosting reflecting the light.

"Don't smash it into my face like last year," Claire warned playfully, her arms held out in protection. They swatted her arms away before settling around her.

"Don't worry, we have more cake on the way," Lola giggled.

Colourful light reflected off the walls and danced around, celebrating with them. Champagne bottles popped, and laughter filled the room. A music box started playing, and they danced around the room, feeling like little kids again. Even though smiles were plastered over their faces, a tinge of sorrowness lingered. Sometimes, the laughter would die down, and the reality would start to settle, but then someone would crack a joke, and the laughter would continue.

But they all felt it. The goodbyes, hiding in the corners and the shadows of the room. Soon, the room wouldn't be Claire's. The memories will be cleared out, and the life she breathed into the room will be gone. The sparkle and shine of her life would be gone, stuffed in a box to gather dust. Only for little hands to dig them out and to rediscover the Claire that used to roam the halls, whose laughter would echo through every room and whose fingerprints would always be found in the pastries.

Tears were wiped away now and again, but nobody acknowledged it. Claire's laughter was still bouncing off the wall and filling the halls. And they were going to savour every moment.

The cake was a mess, the icing sticking to their fingers and their hair, mixing with champagne. Luckily, they weren't the ones tasked with cleaning up, and so the mess grew bigger. Their cheeks hurt from all the laughing, from all the mischief they caused and embarrassing stories they still remembered, James being the victim of most. The twins shared the most stories, their memory the best, and to keep the others from bringing up their embarrassment.

When the laughter quieted once more, a comfortable silence settled.

Claire wiped a stray tear away. Reality setting in much later than the rest. She knew she was going to miss her simple and spoilt life. Her parents wanted her to become queen in another kingdom and to start her own lineage. Even though she despised the idea, she had no other options. She couldn't just stay locked away in the castle, wasting her life away. She had to find a purpose, something that placed her into the world, where she could make a difference. She wasn't just decor. She knew she was something more, but she didn't know what. She had no dreams, no aspirations. She just did what she was told to do. Life was easy following a textbook.

"How are you feeling?" Anastasia, James' wife, asked. She had gentle hands and a soothing voice. Perfect to rule a kingdom, nothing like Claire. Claire stared at the ceiling, tracing the all too familiar curves and lines. "It is a scary thing to marry," she carried on. She was married at 17 and had stayed with them ever since. Becoming part of the family and a staple in the kingdom. People adored her, inside and outside of the walls.

"I don't know," Claire admitted quietly, almost defeated. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she was the centre of a messy group hug. They toppled to one side before falling to the floor like a pile of laundry. Laughing and giggling on their was to the floor.

They ate more cake and drank more alcohol until they felt sick. Stress and sorrow temporarily lifted as they celebrated the day away.