Addendum:

Prologue:

Axiom Veroncia, 1531
Princess Elesia Arielle Alderidge of Axiom Veroncia, age 15, slammed her bedroom door shut and rammed a chair under its crystal door handle just before she heard a resounding thud on the other side the corners of her lips turned up in victory. Leaning against door she could feel a heavy thud ramming it on the other side, beating away at it like waves upon the shoreline, but just like the shoreline she knew it would not give. She kicked her slightly too tight slippers off of her aching feet as she flopped down onto her luxurious bed in such a fashion that her governess would be sure to chastise her had she been witness to it. She tried to ignore her aching feet and the burning sensation in her lungs as the soft cool satin sheets enveloped her while she pressed her flushed face against her feather pillow. Her heart was still pounding from the sprinting up three levels of stairs avoiding the grasping claws of the guards that were on her trail like a pack of blood hounds. She could still hear her fathers voice bellowing along with the unsatisfied cries of their esteemed guests at her hasty departure from the throne room. She couldn't help it though, she was suffocating, drowning in a room with no water while her spectators watched with smug expressions etched into their faces. She had received her death sentence, not literally, but it may as well have been. Her future had been decided for her, while she was forced to stand silent, head bowed, not daring to look her king in the eye. 'Twas etiquette they said. Elesia could feel herself scowling into her pillow. 'Etiquette be hanged' she thought.
Etiquette had not been a two way street, In Fact the things said about her were the furthest thing from polite that she could possibly fathom.
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"She is pretty enough, but ever so plain, how could his highness want to marry her?"
A delicate voice spoke up "She seems lovely enough..."  Elesias spirit soared, this was the first positive thing said about her today.
"Yes, but can she bear children? The kingdom of Prevaricatia must have an heir and she is as thin as a willow branch, the king cannot bear the shame of a woman who...."
"The poor thing hasn't said a word, is she dumb? Mute?" The shrill voice encased in yards of pink ruffles went higher with each question. 'The poor thing indeed having to listen to such a shrill terrible voice.' It was the worst form of torture, to listen to that voice secondary only the the bright pink monstrosity that accosted her eyes. Of course her face hadn't betrayed her thoughts, of that she was sure. She forced a sickeningly sweet smile to her face.

Service to your kingdom with a smile. That's what her father always told her. That's what her dear governess had told her and that's what these selfish pigs were demanding of her now.

"How can she do her duty as queen if she can't even gather her wits enough to form a sentence ?"
Sparing a glance upward suddenly seven pairs of eyes focused on her, their stares piercing her very soul. Such unfeeling eyes, they didn't hold an once of compassion or empathy. They looked like they were quite enjoying this display of humiliation and perhaps they truly were. It's not often the very people she tormented as a child were able to voice their .... apprehensions? No that wasn't it.... their outright hatred ... ah yes, that was it, and at the invitation of the king no less.
The pile of pink puff  spoke up "Well young lady?"
Elesia could feel her eyes darting around the room looking for an escape. Her eyes found a think lanky fellow who had eyes that seemed somewhat kind despite his being dressed like an undertaker. He stared down his large pointy nose at her, "Lady is a bit of a stretch no?"his snide remark earning him chuckles from the rest of her judges. Her hopes were dashed. He swung with his verbal axe. No one would be saving her from this execution. She parted her lips to speak and quickly snapped her jaws shut, barricading the thoughts pounding in her head from escaping through her mouth. Every fiber of her being was shaking, wanting to explode into a flurry of tears, unsavory words, and unbridled rage.They would not see her cry, she would not allow it.
"Well?" Demanded a portly gentleman who sat on the end of the panel. She let her eyes trace over his figure. He was clad with a cheap purple cloth in a poor attempt to look like he came from a position of wealth. He didn't often talk at the meetings held by the king. He held no prominence and was often dismissed or outright ignored. His question hung in the air.
"Just as I thought, she hasn't got the mental capacity to do anything but stare. His highness would be better off marrying a antique vase than the likes of her, at least then he'd have something that's would fetch a handsome sum."
And just like that, she was barren, stupid, mute, ugly and a burden. Elesia could feel tears welling up in her eyes, much like the swells that took sailors to an early grave in treacherous storms. Her tears stood at the brink of her lids, wetting her lashes, daring to betray her. She willed them to stop and to not add to her humiliation.
That was the first bit of advice her dear sweet governess had given her as she dressed her that morning. "Do not cry, and keep your chin up. You are a princess, and more importantly you are an Alderidge you need to carry yourself like one." Simple words that were easier said than done, but from the woman who raised her, they were less of an order and more of an encouragement.
She blinked back the tears, she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry; instead she allowed the salty sting to distract her from her trial.