His Little Heir

One Last Time

     Daya shrank into the hot stickiness that had become of her silk bedsheets. Her alarm had signaled the end of an era, chiming and choking out the haze that was gradualism. The princess had   swallowed its pill again and again: when she picked out the white dress that would encase her like the bargaining chip she was, and when she walked down the isle that would snuff her light away time and time again for rehearsal. Daya could always tax upon her fear's toll in thinking the day was still ever far away.
     But now, the day was today. Gradualism could fill her veins no more.

     Maids swiftly surrounded her, their demanding gazes never failing to suffocate.
     "Get out of bed, princess!"
     She shrunk back further.
     "Take a shower, princess!"
     Daya's shaking hands failed to grasp the soap.
     "Eat something, princess!"
     Nausea pushed every dish away.

     This was it.
 
     The beginning of her new life.

     A bargaining chip.

     A loan that was due.

    
     Before sunrise, every tool of torture in the ladies' arsenal had crossed her skin. Waxing, cutting, and covering away all Daya had left of her old life.

     Of Austin.

     Of her family.

     Of herself.

     If this was the life that her father begged fate for her to live, was it even worth living?

     "Daya, I-I'm sorry."
     Her father had persuaded the women to leave the two of them alone, but the bride to be had hardly noticed their absence. Her thoughts acted as a web of idleness wrapping and latching upon her veins, keeping her still.
     "I love you, you're my little girl.. you'll-you'll always be m-my little girl," Don positioned himself on the velvet vanity cushion beside his daughter. His tender hands enveloped her shaking ones, "Please, look at me."
     She gritted her teeth as if her mouth were a pestle and mortar crushing a bitter pocket of poison: "I have nothing to say to you."
     "Daya.."
     "Please leave."
     She never gave him the pleasure to gaze into her eyes one last time.

Though, when later years arose, the princess would long to turn back time's jagged hands.

     The servants returned. Gossiping and gauging, they told Daya how lucky she was. Some confessed that they would kill for the chance to be in her position, to be betrothed to such a "fine man." But their encouragement and sly jealousy could not penetrate her mind's delicate web, and so, Daya remained speachless and spacey.

     Her dark chocolate hair now fell at her shoulders, twisted into tight, candy curls. The princess's button eyes sported magnificent lashes that fluttered ever so gracefully as if they were bird's wings in flight. Looking at herself, she began to wonder was this herself? Daya was no stranger to makeup, no, but this-
      This was wrong.

     Even the dress she had metocoulusly selected for its simplicity had the power to blind her in the glimmer of the vanity's light.

     And they were only halfway done.

     The women continued to poke and prod and praise. Proud of their handiwork, they decided to reward themselves with decidants from a local restaurant.

     Their prodding did not end.

     "We're picking up Lou's, what would you like, princess?"
     "Should we look up the menu for you, princess?"
     "Please eat something, princess."
      "Yes, you have a big day ahead of you, princess!"

     Daya shoved their every request away, sighting that she wasn't hungry. But her patience with them continued to thin.
     Of course, she knew that they were doing what was instructed of them. Leon wasn't the kind of man to leave her with needs or wants.
     In fact, he had proven to be caring within the months that they had spent together. Daya liked that about him, yes, but he wasn't Austin.

     He wasn't Austin that had concerned, lulling eyes. He wasn't Austin that had rubbed her back in days that were too much for her, waiting until her breathing slowed and her body gave way to the bubbling tide of sleep. He wasn't Austin that had carried her. He wasn't Austin that had gotten down on one knee. And he wasn't Austin that had slipped a rose gold ring around her finger and kissed her.

     Leon wasn't Austin, he wasn't her old life.
     And he knew it.

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     "Sir?", the servant quickened her pace, "Sir!"

     Leon halted in his tracks. He had been pacing, his mind walked up and down the halls of thought with every physical step he took, and she had locked him out of its fortress.

     "Yes, Jeana?" He clenched his jaw, his face redding at his thoughts' interruption.
     "I-I'm sorry, your majesty, but I, we, thought this was important to tell you."
     "I'm listening."
     "Sir, uh, it's Princess Daya."

     The groom's body jolted with electricity at the sound of her name. God, they weren't even married yet, and she was already doing so much to him.

     "Y-Yes, continue."
     "Well, we-we think there's something wrong with her."

     Something wrong? Something wrong with his precious rose? His body tensed, displeased with the despicable woman's suggestion.

     "Watch your tone, servant."
     "So-so sorry your majesty! P-Please pardon that silly word choice of mine! What I meant to say was, we think, we think she's going through something."
     "Explain."
     "W-Well she hasn't spoken or eaten all day. We-We even tried to entice her with some Lou's but she just, she just wouldn't."

     A blue shadow casted itself across his face. His love was scared, so scared. And she needed him.

     She needed him.

     "Jeana, bring me to her."
    
    
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     Time skip suprising?! Hey! I'm back but just for a little bit. School has been kicking my BUTT, but I had time to write today, and I'm pretty happy with it. Thank you so much for sticking with me and this story! See you next time. 💜