BIRTHRIGHT (complete #Wattys2016)

Chapter 3: Jealousy.

The Royal palace was bustling with life. The servants running, resembling headless chickens, dresses being tried on, laughter, jokes, orders, and reprimands were being exchanged among the french household. Making the usually peaceful and quiet palace, filled with noise and voices.

Today was a ball in honor of Princess Isabelle's arrival. The ball had been delayed due to a series of events that had taken place.

Currently, the royals sat together, enjoying warm beverages along with some specially made pastries for their tea time. Suddenly a knock disrupted the happy chatter among the family.

"Come in." The king ordered.

The doors opened to let a servant, with his head, hung low, enter. He bowed to the Royals and started to speak.

"Pardon my disruption, but there is a letter from Norway, for Princess Isabelle." The servant spoke. Isabelle almost jumped out of her seat from excitement as she heard the announcement, but she refrained at the last moment.

"May I be excused?" Isabelle asked eagerly.

Prince Alexander found her enthusiasm rather....unsettling. The King nodded in confirmation to Isabelle's question, instantly she stood from her place and hurriedly walked out the doors. Just as the entrance closed shut, the chatter resumed.

***

Prince Alexander knocked on the closed chamber doors. He awaited a response but was answered with silence.

"Isabelle are you in here?" He spoke as he opened the door to find her chambers vacant of her presence.

After closing the doors behind him, he walked towards her desk that was rested in front of the window that let sunlight stream on top of the desk. He found two letters rested atop the desk, he picked one up and found the Royal Norwayn seal on the back. Instantly he knew it was from the prince, as it strongly smelled of musk.

"Oh! My Isabelle! I hear you are in the french court due to the war being waged in Scotland. I sympathize for your loss. Although I feel it as my duty, to warn you about the Royals of France, especially the prince. He is very cunning and might do something to harm you. I hope you heed my warning and maintain a safe distance from the prince, Alexander, was it?

Where are you, my dear? What is one supposed to do when your beauty haunts my mind? I have written a poem for you in my spare time, which seems to be a lot these days.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Where are you my Isabelle?

Because I miss you.

I hope to see that pretty smile of your soon. Why couldn't you have come to Norway instead? I would have loved your company, and I know that you would have loved mine. You have roamed our palace walls once before, and you loved your time here, with me. Could you not talk to your father and convince him to send you to Norway instead. I heard the French are a bore? Is it true? If so, then that is no place for such a lovely princess like you!

I miss you truly, I hope you are well, and everything works out for you. I expect a reply, my love, my Isabelle.

Yours truly

Prince Phillipe"

By the time Alexander finished reading the letter, he was shaking with rage