Protecting the Princess

Prologue...

Royalty can be such a generic term.

It umbrellas ranges of different meanings. From those snobby rich socialites who sit on a throne all day waving serenely as they look down their noses at the 'common' people with bitter smiles painted across their cheeks, to signed sheets of paper for use of an old, mostly unwanted, dirty mine. In all, it comes down to one thing. Money. And I hated that immensely.

When I was young, I remember my grandfather used to sit me up on his knee in front of a roaring fire, dramatically recounting long lost fairytales of young maidens reuniting with Prince Charming as he saved them from evil witches of the darkness. That was something else I also hated.

Young girls, who were obviously just as capable as any man to save ones self, shown as damsels in distress. Granted, I was a hopeless romantic but I cringed at the thought of a girl having to be helpless to meet her love for all eternity to live happily ever after. Although to be honest I was being hypocritical.

Because sometimes I wish I was normal. That I wasn't royalty. That I was free to love who I wish.

Most people think that because I'm a princess, I must have all the things I want in life. The best shoes, the best clothes. The best fiancé. But no one sees what happens behind the wrought iron gates, behind the flashing lights and the expensive cars.

No one sees that I'm living the life of someone else. I'm living a lie. It sounds so much like a hormonal teenager who thinks the worlds against them, but it's the closest metaphor I can think of of to explain how trapped I feel.

I could easily give this up, easily tell my fiancé, Basil, where to shove it and leave him at the altar on the day of our upcoming wedding... But I can't, for my fathers sake at least. He's done so much for me to live my life as normal as I can, how can I turn around and slap my father like that? No matter how much I complain, Basil is a good man, he's sweet with his words and has never laid a hand on me but that's just the problem.

I want to feel how much someone wants me, how much they earn for me as I do for them, through a single touch or kiss. It's sounds like some sort of cheesy romance but it's what I want in a relationship. Basil's just too boring for my tastes.

He was a sweet young man, who was a mummy's boy but that's what makes him so endearing. I feel like an abnormal freak half the time because every time we make public we're a couple in one way or another, I am bombarded by the amount of fangirls he has an entourage of wherever we go. To be honest I couldn't blame them, one flash of his charming smile is enough to sweep a girl off her feet. But I don't ever feel those things.

Maybe I really am a freak as my sister, Annabel, promptly points out whenever when she claims the chance. She would never look at handsome Basil Collins with such fierce determination to love him, no, she would stare at him adoringly as he rambled on about his most recent flight recuse mission. Not roll her eyes, wishing to be anywhere else.

Call me a whimsical girl who doesn't know any better, but I believe my Prince Charming is waiting for me, somewhere. Waiting for me to get off my backside and run, looking for him. And I'm convinced I'll find him.

Maybe he'll be stuck in a tree. Poor thing.

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Tomorrows the 1st of September and since I have a day off school, I can stay up until midnight! {Not that I already do that or anything (O.o)}

Anyway, if you like the prologue give it a vote, maybe a comment if your feeling generous... And a share?

And if you haven't already, please look at my other stories and vote on them if you like them!

Love,
DAREBELxxx