Made To Be Broken

One

Some promises are made to be broken.

I'm reminded of that as I feel my mother's eyes burning into my back, taking in every detail of the dress I am most certainly not assigned to wear, the dress I'd promised a hundred times over that I wouldn't bring with me.

I lied.

We're supposed to wear red, the color of our sworn enemies, as a symbol of peace for what is predicted to be such a momentous occasion. It would've matched perfectly with this disgustingly gorgeous throne room, too- all golden chandeliers and swirling maroon carpets.

Instead, I'm cloaked head to toe in floral green lace. At this point, I might as well drape the Briarwoodian flag over my shoulders and hum the soft tones of my country's anthem. Any color but green, any color but that of the country I would soon rule over, against my better judgment.

It wasn't in vain that I wore green, nor was it out of the hatred for the enemy lands where I now stood. Though, the forest color of my dress wasn't that far a shade of the disgust in my mind and bile on my tongue. No, this was simply a wordless speech for my mother. A tiny rebellion from an ever-submissive princess. After all, tiny rebellions were all I had anymore. Tiny rebellions were the only proof that I was human.

Of course, humanity wasn't exactly a valued asset amidst royal families. Neither mine, nor the one we are to visit today. The leaders of the country that had betrayed me, my family, and my land more times than I could count.

And yet, these betrayals have all fallen to the wayside today. Today, the lands of Briarwood and Eldoria will sign a treaty for peace, after centuries of fighting.

I truly believe it's an awful idea.

Maybe I wouldn't think it so awful if I were given reasoning for the sudden change, but no. Both my father and the king of Eldoria have decided to keep any real details about the treaty a secret. So, like any good princess should, I'll sit silently as my father, my king, makes a decision that will permanently shift everything I've been taught to believe about Eldoria.

Starting, of course, with its king and queen.

We approach their thrones quickly, my family's personal soldiers flanking us on either side, clad in white instead of their traditional green. Part of me hates standing out so drastically in this unfamiliar place, but that sliver of thought gets pushed away as I slip on a fake smile- another essential in the toolbox of a princess.

It's time to meet the king and queen of Eldoria.

Which, I notice, are significantly younger than I'd once believed. King Soren Aldridge's dark beard lacks the silvery strands ever-present in my father's hair, and Queen Naomi's face only creases faintly when she smiles.

However, when King Soren speaks, it's with age and experience. I find myself ignoring his words after he reminds us, "It's such a joy to have you in our palace on this momentous day." Anything he has to say shouldn't be significant to me. Lies, lies, lies, this Aldridge family. Every passing word makes the urge to vomit on Queen Naomi's glittering silver heels stronger. Of course, it's not as though my heels aren't just as sparkly, my family just as rich. I'd been to more royal meetings than I could count, but none have evoked this sort of emotional response from me.

No other country was responsible for the death of my people, though. No other country was responsible for the death of the only person I'd ever truly cared about.

Not that I would- or, could- say that without receiving a heavy scolding. Though, my mother would never dare yell at me in front of anyone else. Perfect, beautiful, intelligent, royal. These are the things us Thornes are to be. Especially now.

You're representing your country, Princess Aily Thorne. You best not ruin it.

I dip into a curtsy as my parents do, and I catch my mother's eyes wandering once again to the green of my dress, barely perceptible. The soldiers do not move, their eyes scanning every bit of our surroundings. It seems that they share the distrust for Eldoria and it's infamous Aldridge family just as much as I do.

It's with smiles that King Soren and Queen Naomi stand from their thrones, ornate chairs with rubies embedded in swirls of gold. Naomi's heels clink softly against the marble dais, the only part of the expansive throne room not carpeting in swirling red. Eldoria's color wasn't exactly placed subtly in this palace.

The King and Queen of Eldoria are flanked by guards of their own, though they wear white in the same way the Briarwoodian soldiers do. The only difference is that the Eldorian soldiers have a tiny gold and red stitched peony, while our soldiers bear the sacred crest of Briarwood. Both sets of soldiers lead both royal families from the throne room, keeping a considerable distance of space between the once-enemies.

The room where the peace treaty will be ceremoniously signed is a dining room of sorts, though I can guarantee it's not the only one in this palace. We royals love our grand, fancy rooms, castles refurbished with profit of both taxes and trade. I was raised to live this way, to love the luxury.

Or at least, I pretend I do.

On the back wall of the dining room hangs an Eldorian flag that covers the entire back wall. It's traditional maroon background with gold edges and a golden peony embroidered in the middle is supposed to shout elegance and prosperity, but to me it simply screams of blood spilt.

I stand against the wall opposite the one with the flag, just as I am supposed to, as my father, King Emil Thorne, takes a seat beside King Soren Aldridge. My mother and Queen Naomi stand beside them, though not close enough to read the words written on the treaty. Standing next to me are the infamous Aldridge children. I was taught to hate them each for the entirety of the seventeen years I've been alive, yet now I don't know what exactly to feel for them.

The oldest, Jace, stands beside me, hands perfectly still at his sides and bright blue eyes focused intently on his father. He's almost a foot taller than me, and mostly muscle, bulking up the arms of his tailored black suit. The golden boy of the Aldridge family, in every aspect. His blonde hair is swept cleanly to the side, and I can picture vividly where the ornate crown will go, when he inevitably becomes king.

It's a peculiar thought, too, as when Jace Aldridge becomes king of his country, I'll likely be queen of mine. With this new alliance in place, I'm not exactly sure what that means for me.

I'm not left to dwell on that thought, nor even take a moment to observe the other four Aldridge kids, at the sound of my mother clearing her throat harshly. She casts a glance in my direction, and I fix my face so that I, like Jace, am perfect and emotionless.

I'd been told what the treaty signing would be like, though it still felt odd to me. The ceremony was performed in mostly silence, supposedly to represent tranquility and fresh beginnings. The massive dining table was set in front of the two kings with a long scroll of parchment, two gold-encrusted pens, and a singular gold chalice with tiny details- what appear to be people, likely small depictions of past events in the history of both countries- filled with the finest wine on the Veridian Continent.

My father, King Emil Thorne, bows his head towards the chalice slightly, then towards King Aldridge, who does the same. It's my father who picks up the chalice first, though, swirling the chalice before taking a large sip. He hands the chalice to King Aldridge, who copies him yet again. This is a symbol of unity- two lands, one cup, one destiny.

However meaningful it might be, however, the silence is beginning to get to me. I feel the sudden urge to tap my foot lightly against the wooden floor, then stop myself. The ceremony will be over shortly, as only the signing remains.

The kings pick up their golden pens in unison, raising them above their respective lines towards the bottom of the scroll. I try to glance at the swirling letters, to see what this "peace" truly entails. Of course, it's not the place of a princess to know these things, but curiosity tends to overtake my mind in moments such as these.

Moments where sworn enemies become allies. Moments where one world dies, and another is born.

And, I notice with wide-eyed shock, moments where both kings drop the pens in an almost eerie unison, where they begin to convulse in heavy spasms. Moments where both kings' heads lull forward, motionless. Lifeless.

Moments where the palace descends into madness.