The Unwanted Princess

Breaking The Silence

"Simon-" I muttered under my breath, "Simon, please wait just a moment."

He continued to drag me along through the halls, a retributive grasp on my hand. It would have been painful if my mind wasn't so preoccupied with the most recent series of events. Only hell itself is hot enough to burn away the embarrassment and shame coursing through my body. My very being was wracked with the uncertainty of the future all at once.

Before, our future was destined—sublime, well thought out by others before us. Now it is a question in my mind. Truly, if the Queen wished to from this point on, we could both be publicly exhumed from our duties. Our marriage could be called off for "personal reasons."

Simon is an imbecile, I have concluded. He acts before he thinks and refuses to acknowledge the consequences of the things he does on a whim. He is a child in a man's body with the tolerance of a five-year-old. I feel as though I am this man's mother; I would be more of a mother than his actual mother. He is never reprimanded, but instead praised for his idiocy and lack of critical thinking skills. How could this wreck of a so-called Crowned Prince be the heir to the throne?

How on earth was I ridiculed and denied as a Princess when the actual Prince was as intelligent as the stone holding this sham of a kingdom together? How dare they call my township a fake and my parents thieves when the Crown is the one that should be prosecuted?

He tugged me into a room, one I wasn't sure of its intention, and closed the door with frustrated purpose. He stared at me like I had done something and then rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"Do not look at me as if I was the one to strike your mother," I spoke between gritted teeth. "And don't ever try to blame me for your own shortcomings. I will be blamed in the press either way. I do not need to hear it from you."

"You are not to blame."

"Damn straight I am not. I was going to settle the matter civilly, but you just had to be a brute. You just had to prove you are worth something right then and there."

His jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together. "Elara, that is not-"

"Yes, Simon, you are a big and strong man. Is that what you want to hear? You're not weak, you're not a bitch as the public likes to label you. You're not your father; hell, you're not even his actual son as we just recently found out." I sighed frustratingly. "You are a complete imbecile-"

"I was protecting you," he interjected smoothly. My mouth opened to respond and then closed defiantly. "Or at least I believed I was at that moment. My mother shouldn't have been speaking to you that way. She does nothing but belittle and make others feel lesser than, and I couldn't stand watching her do that to you. So many times, Elara, I have had to sit in that same position and just take it as her son."

"Protecting me?" I stated sarcastically. "You did it for self-preservation."

"I did it because my mother shouldn't be touching what is mine."

I don't like how his words made me feel. I don't like the butterflies that jumped and battered inside my stomach as my face flushed a violent hue. "I am not yours," my words didn't sound sure.

He looked at me in a way that was both perplexing and swoon-worthy. "But I am yours."

"I do not own you," I hurriedly stated.

"Are you daft? That is not what I said."

I awkwardly looked at him and then somewhere else in this oddly decorated room. My lips pressed into a tight line. "I know," I half-mumbled.

"Do you not believe me?"

My eyebrows scrunched together. "Why should I? You fretted at every waking moment to ensure that I understood our marriage is purely transactional."