His Princess

Two

Aurora Kaligaris

"Are you an idiot?" Mike's voice thundered as he slammed his hands down on the table, making us all flinch. His temper was notorious, though it didn't hold a candle to Dad's silent wrath.

I had just finished explaining my plan to move back to New York, and the reaction from my family was exactly what I expected. Disapproval hung thick in the air, especially from Mike, Dad, and, to some extent, even Mom.

"Michael," Lucas said, his calm tone masking the tension as he fixed a steady gaze on our older brother. "Aurora, you don't have to go to New York. You can open your boutique here."

But that was the whole point.

The Kaligaris name was well-known here. We were practically a household name, one of the few royal houses left, with a legacy that loomed over every step I took. I wanted my designs to stand on their own, not to be tied down by my family name or my brothers' influence.

"I don't want to open it here," I said, my voice low, feeling the weight of my words hang in the air.

Five years. It had been five long years since I called off the wedding with the man I'd thought I'd marry, five years since I fled New York to the refuge of our family home. And in that time, I'd endured the hushed whispers and the pitying looks, the quiet scandal of a failed engagement that still echoed through society here.

"Aurora." Dad's authoritative voice echoed in the vast dining hall, his eyes piercing into me, seeking answers. "What good will this do for you?"

I looked away, unable to meet his steady gaze. I knew I'd disappointed him, time and again, with my choices. "I just... I want to go back, Dad," I said quietly.

"To what?" His voice grew sharper, his patience wearing thin. "What is it in that place that you cannot find here?"

"Rekindling her relationship with that boy, maybe?" Mike muttered, a bitter edge to his words. He'd never forgiven me for the scandal, for the chaos that had followed my abrupt departure.

Lucas sighed beside me, his irritation palpable as he cast a warning look at Mike. "Shut up and let them talk, ton megalýtero adelfó," he snapped. (elder brother)

"Enough." Mom's voice cut through the tension, low and commanding. Her presence had a way of quieting even the fiercest arguments, and the boys fell silent, shooting glares at each other instead. She turned her eyes to me, softening as she took in my face. "Moró mou, do you really have to go back there?" (my baby) Her gaze was pleading, silently hoping I'd say no.

But I couldn't give her that reassurance.

I looked away.

The first time I left this place, my cousin had to sneak me out, bribing every person we encountered just to get me on a plane with him to New York. The family resented him for it, still does, for allowing me to escape and even helping me sneak out of this country.

Greece is a gilded cage—beautiful, yes, but a cage all the same. As a daughter of the Kaligaris family, I'm expected to stay here, study, and work, all while learning how to be a good and strong wife for my future husband.

Many dream of spending weeks or even months living in this picturesque land, soaking up the sun and the stunning views. But not me. Not when every eye is trained on my every move. Not when all anyone can talk about when my name comes up is when and whom I am going to marry.

My family is steeped in tradition. My mother has never worked a day in her life aside from raising us kids. She always claimed it was a wonderful experience that not all mothers get to have. She might be right, but I refuse to sit around the house every day, wasting away. I want to do something more—something that I can take pride in. I wanted to agree, but I'd always known my dreams stretched beyond the four walls of a home.