The Royal Halo

Chapter 3

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a normal girl, living just a regular life. Able to go out and hang out with friends, date whoever I please. Let loose and be rebellious without my every move being monitored. It does a lot to a person when they constantly feel that their privacy is being intruded 24/7.

I sigh and stop typing away at my computer. Grabbing my rushing thoughts and locking them away in the back of my mind as I stare down at the lengthy story I have come up with. Rubbing my eyes tiredly before glancing over at the window and the sun beaming through it.

Pushing back away from desk, I head to my wardrobe to find something to wear for the day.

I run my hands down my black t-shirt dress and slip on my black and brown sandals; zipping them up.

"Bonjour Celeste."(Good morning Celeste.) I greet as I step off the grand staircase.

"Bonjour, breakfast is about done." Celeste responds, dusting away at the many antiques decorating the hallway.

Nodding in response I ask, "Where's Père?" (Where's father?)

"He left earlier this morning. Had to deal with some business inquires."

"Right." I purse my lips, glancing around the room.

Of course he would exclude himself from the house, from me. We haven't talked after our 'altercation' last night. Needless to say, he's not so pleased with me. Every time something comes up, a "problem" he buries himself in work not involved with this household. I don't blame him much, I too am desperate for an escape on many occasions, everyday.

Pulling myself from my thoughts, I glance up at the family portrait of us two, situated above one of the many vases sprinkled throughout the hall. It's me around age 10, my strawberry blonde hair cascading over my shoulders as I wear a pearly white toothy smile with my dad stood beside me, one arm wrapped around me from behind and rested on my shoulder. He's staring down at me as if he's just won over the whole world and he's amazed at how he's managed to catch it in his grasp. Like it's an unlimited prize.

I wish times could be like that always, but, too often: I feel that I've let him down. And all I've managed to give him is a disobedient princess who is completely against tradition. As if he's failed on raising me as his daughter, as a queen.

I'm startled by the sound of the doorbell ringing, echoing off the enormous walls of the mansion. I glance around, looking for anyone.

"I'll get that." I mumble as I quietly shuffle towards the door.

I'm shocked at what I see as I pry the door open, "Aaron?"

"Hello." He says, nodding down at me.

I take in his appearance, his navy blue- short sleeved-collared shirt and khakis with some brown dress shoes. Proper and clean, how one of the royal family is expected to dress. Unlike me, who wears whatever I please: one of the many traits I've developed that my father is not so fond of.

"What're you doing here?"

"My parents have sent me..per request of your father." He says sheepishly.

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the enormous oak door. "I knew he wouldn't let it slip that easily." I partially mumble.

"I can go if you rather not-"

"No no," I say quickly, "he'll be even more furious with me if he finds out I turned you away. Especially as an order from him."

He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Right...your dad sounds a bit firm."