"This is the story of a tragic hero," the princess wrote, scrubbing angrily at her tearstained face with her sleeve.
A sob escaped her throat, and she tucked her cloak tighter around herself as she surveyed the dark forest clearing around her.
She could see the dark outlines of trees and fallen logs. The light of the moon filtered through the leaves above, casting an eerie glow on the forest floor. As of now, the forest was as silent as a tomb. However, Calpurnia was on her guard, ready to draw her knife at the slightest rustle of a leaf.
This was all her fault. Regicide, peripeteia, betrayal, backstabbing.
She had no clue of the whereabouts of her mother, her father, or her friends. She had last seen Prince Ocean after... that... had happened, as his face contorted with rage while he drew a sword to go after the person who'd attacked her.
Ocean... So he had loved her all along. And what had she done? She'd laughed and stomped all over his feelings with her patent leather combat boots. Now she'd never see him again. The princess felt hot tears slide down her face.
"I'm sorry, Ocean," she whispered to no one in particular.
Returning her gaze to her story, she wrote, with a rush of anger, "It all began with a boy. That damned boy."
YOU ARE READING
The Red Cotillion
Teen FictionShit happens when Princess Calpurnia of Ginelan brings a marauder to her mother's annual cotillion. Contains swearing and a scene of sexual assault, reader discretion is advised.
