Morning dawned upon a bright new day. The city of Revala was bustling with the noisy sounds of childhood merriment. It was the welcoming of the Princess’ birthday that caused such a storm. People were running about everywhere trying to get things ready. Everything needed to be perfect.
Everything. In their eyes. The Princess however, had a different view. What did she care what perfect her birthday held? She nay believed in such a thing. After so many years of celebration, what is one more year to conquer? She sighed, lifting herself from the seat that held its place by the window. Her chocolate eyes met the reflection of the smooth cold mirror. She stared at herself. The years have been very kind to her, despite past historical events. Her dark hair came down to her knees in a bushel of various waves that compliment her tanned skin and form fitting red dress. Jewels of gold and silver decorated the frame of her forehead, ears, and neck. Once again, the Princess sighed. Another day of looking as if she was to owe the world, as if she was its precious angel.
There was a knock at the door, interrupting the Princess’ thoughts.
“Princess Lashel? Are you alright, your highness?” The voice of a young girl inquired.
The Princess sighed. It was only Maria. A faint little girl she had forced the elder council to allow in her castle. It had been five years since then. Maria was also, only of five years then, and her, eleven. Lashel walked over to the door, gripping to handle as if it was made of air. She pulled open the door, smiling to the little blonde, blue eyed girl. “Yes Maria. I am just fine. How did you sleep my dear?”
Maria bowed to the Princess, as she feared the faint of calls for doing otherwise. The light sigh of the Princess in response was heard on the wind. “I slept well, your highness. I do hope nothing troubled you as you slept?”
The Princess shook her head. When did anything trouble her? She was, after all, one of the heaviest light sleeper you would ever meet. A contradiction in the making. There was never a time when each night was the same, but difference could not be argued. Last night, however, was filled dreamless and sleeplessly. Her skin refused to hold a sign of this, as did her senses. What good would it do? The town celebration would be postponed until tomorrow if she was to pronounce illness today. “I slept like a baby without a reason to awaken.” Lashel smiled. “Tell me Maria, how many times must I ask you not to treat me as one of royal hierarchy, but rather, one of family?”
Maria shuffled her feet at Lashel’s words. She knew the Princess preferred not to be thought of as someone to hold gratitude towards, but rather someone to be held as just another common girl in this world who given herself to a noble deed. Blue eyes sought the floor as chocolate ones were felt, waiting for an answer. Maria cleared her throat. “I am sorry Lashel… There are eyes and ears everywhere. I would rather not another lashing f—“She bit her lip. She wasn’t supposed to reveal the reason, but it was too late now.
A heat wave of anger and disgust suffocated the room as the words from her made to be little sister echoed. Lashing? LASHING?! Her own family was receiving a lashing for calling her by her name?! What ridiculous hypocrisy was this?! Who dared touch a hair on her kin’s blonde silken head? Lashel gripped her fists as the venomous words calmed themselves enough to speak. “Who has lashed you, Maria?”
The blonde little girl took a step forward, placing a hand on her savior’s arm. “Please Lashel… Calm down… I’m alright. It only left faint markings, and the pain was very little.” Blues eyes met with now black. Maria sighed. There was no way to convince the Princess not to take action in this state. “Your advisor, Lucian, order me lashed for not addressing your title.”
“Thank you, Maria.” White gold heels clicked past the blonde and out the bedroom door in a furious pace. Letting up was not an option as the stairs entered their path. Maids and servants rushed to move out of the way as they saw and curtly welcomed the birthday girl. Lashel quickened her pace towards the advisors quarters right outside the main hall. Her polished nails tucked under to bring about another fist which pounded the door. “Lucian! I pray you open this door or I will have it torn!”
The stained glass wooden door crawled open and held to a stop wide enough for the Princess’ frame to come into view. A man stood in that opening. His hair pale and long, skin white, suit of darkened grey with an emerald laced tie of a darker shade, and a matching ribbon to tie back his hair. “What an honour my grey eyes ever do see… The birthday girl hath come forth to pay me a visit on her special day.” He bowed, taking her more relaxed hand and kissing it. “How pleasurable this moment is, your highness.” Lucian smiled to her as he inclined his body to stand straight. “And what do I owe the gratitude of your visit? Merely joyful, I hope?”
“I am afraid not, Lucian.” Lashel spoke, venom begging to escape her lips as her black eyes lowered the temperature of the already chilled air. “What has made you believe your word is over mine? Hm? You dare interfere with my affairs?”
“I am sorry Princess. I d-“
A slap echoed through the empty hall.
“Don’t play coy with me! How dare you lay a hand on Maria! I had given her my full permission to call me by my first name and you find reason to go against me? To lash her for no reason rather than your own feeling?” The Princess hissed, no longer in her calm state of manner. “What, I ask you, was going through your mind when you stepped out of the barrier to attack a weaker cause?”
Lucian girt his teeth against the slap. His flesh stung as if white rods of lightening had struck him themselves. She was pissed for this? For him upholding her honour by punishing a cocky peasant girl? “Please… Your highness… Grant me to speak.”
“What do you think I am waiting for?” Lashel growled.
The advisor bit his tongue. “I only wished to uphold the honour of your name. If one peasant girl was able to run around and speak freely of you, who is to say another wouldn’t?” His grey eyes concentrated on furious black. They weren’t letting up. He better think quickly. “I offer my humblest apologies.” Lucian bowed to his lowest ability, his head resting on the air just below her waist. “I see I was wrong in my judgment and will remember such a thing in the future occurrences.”
The air was still as the silence prolonged time. Lucian stayed bowed, Lashel stood angered. “You best hold to your word, Lucian. If not, I pray you know where your family will lie.” Venom oozed off of every word as the Princess continued to speak. “If I find one lash mark on Maria’s skin after this day for a ridiculous reason such as none, the punishment will be sure to be carried over to your son tenfold.”
Lucian nodded as he stood, his very being wincing under a stoned mask. “I understand completely, your highness.” His grey eyes watched as the Princess walked away from the scene, her eyes now relaxed and her tone merry. The advisor grabbed the handle of his door and pulled it shut with some harshness.
His desk was his next location, and soon it was brought forth to his attention. Lucian sat in the swiveling leather chair, his legs crossed and posture slouched. That Princess will be the end of him. He turned to face his desk, a pen quickly came to occupy his hand. It tapped to yellowed parchment, begging to reveal his thoughts. Alas, the pen danced across the page.
‘A Princess she is no doubt. I am the mind behind her mess and she is the beauty to personify my voice. She denies my actions at every turn and treats me like a fool. Oh how I miss the days of her admiring eyes. The days of her youthful childlike frail beauty. Now, however, now she is a woman. Her beauty attracts the men that crawl these filthy streets. I watch her sigh and turn away from them all. Now, age seventeen she will be and not one male is lined up to be her husband. She said she fears the loss of control when one is married. I offered myself, a man of thirty, whom was given a son at the age of thirteen, to her majesty. I swore only to remain my position. Yet, the devilish, vile girl denied me! She requests I not pray myself to such fantasies for my son be of her very age. I care not for her words of ruin nor her fear! The beauty was meant to be mine. My very bones hunger for her. The frail desire of her flesh to mine continues to flame! Even as she marked me today with her temper, I still desired her. I can still feel the sting of her hand’s connection to my cheek. As much as the pain astounded me, I long to be touched by her again. I want her. I crave her. I need her. One day, I will have her.”
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