It starts as any typical story starts. Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, where the flowers blossomed and the sun shone on the hills in a way that not even the most skilled of artists could fully capture, there lived a princess. She was, to say the least, not the most capable of princesses, but she was a princess all the same. All loved her, mainly because they had no choice, but her father felt that if they could just get to know her, they could probably look past her clumsiness, her complete lack of confidence and the stutter that appeared when she was pressured. If the public could just look past those things, and a few others, they could see her generosity and kindness, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, and her extraordinary resemblance to her mother, who had been passed away for quite some time, something which caused her father many moments of nostalgia. On this very day, however, the sun was not shining on the hills, but rather on the town that lived just outside of the castle walls, other towns referred to it as the town of Primrose, named after the great queen that was the princess’ mother. The town’s population was mostly prosperous and happy, a few black sheep could be found, but that could be said with any town, and as the townspeople moved back and forth on their daily routines and interacting with each other, a lone wolf stood still in the crowd and stared directly at the castle’s mahogany doors, that cut it off from the town. His gaze shifted, and he was now staring with his neck craned up at the far left tower’s window, where at this very second, the princess had moved to, to escape the sickly words of her company that seemed to reach for her like tentacles. She stared down at the crowd, and it would be impractical to say that their eyes met, but her new appearance at the window seemed to be the sight that the man in the town square needed to see, and he nodded to himself before blending into the crowd.
“Belle, do sit down, you know I hate it when you daydream like that.” Now, the princess’ actual name was Rosabelle, the queen loved her roses, and when the princess was first born, she was named Rosabelle, meaning beautiful rose. Rosabelle hated this nickname that Adder, the boy sitting across from her, had given her. If she wasn’t raised in such a strictly lady-like manner, she may even say that she hated the man himself, although never aloud, for he was a prince, and unless some miracle was about to be bestowed upon the princess, they were to be married. This was the plan discussed between Adder and the king anyway, it was an impulsive move on the king’s part, something that is seldom seen, as the king felt that it could both provide a comfortable link between Adder’s town and theirs, as well as hoping Adder’s affections could help the princess find her own two feet. It was a dangerous mixture of politics and a father’s best intentions.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” Rosabelle spoke politely, feigning interest as she walked back to her large bed, focussing more on not falling over in the impractical shoes she had been forced to wear, so as to look her best for this meeting. She hardly approved of this since it made it near impossible for her to walk, and it was not like she was the most graceful before these shoes had been roughly shoved onto her feet by her dresser. She sighed with relief when she made it to bed without her legs wobbling, and then turned to face Adder, leaning for support on one of the large, intricately carved poles that rested at every corner of the bed.
“I was saying that we have something important to discuss, and then I must be off quickly to return to my father.” Adder valued his father’s pride more than anything else for the whole of his short, easy life. Unfortunately, his father’s pride was not won through acts of valour or kindness to his people, but in examples of shrewd cleverness and manipulation. Adder soon becoming a master of both, he developed an incorrigible amount of arrogance, which may have attracted some of the other princesses but had had quite the opposite affect on Rosabelle, causing him some mild confusion and concern about his father’s plan for Adder to marry her and then have Adder inherit the lovely Primrose town and it’s people. Certainly, Adder found Rosabelle pretty, he found himself admiring her now, as she leaned against the pole and brushed hair out of her face, staring right at him, her piercing blue eyes rested on his dull brown ones, and he felt his chest swell at her undivided attention. The sunlight filtered in through the small window, and it caught on her hair, showing how light and thin it really was, and making it look as if it were made of pure gold, it framed her face and gave her features a soft, nurturing look, and in that moment Adder was telling himself that he could most definitely marry this woman, maybe even grow to love her. Princess Rosabelle, however, was not thinking along the same lines. She watched him with carefully hidden disdain as his eyes took in her features like a predator watching prey, and felt her stomach sink when she saw him rise off the chair and approach her. She had awoken today with a foreboding feeling of her freedom falling away, what little she had of it, and as he stopped and sunk to one knee in front of her, she realised her instincts had been correct. Adder impatiently held out his hand to her as he spewed out some romantic lines of love off the top of his head, hoping to appease her but truthfully, knowing that she could not reject him. It would reflect awfully on her father and herself, and may lose her the respect of the people she would one-day rule, for to everyone that did not know him, Prince Adder was the gentleman to top all gentlemen. So, as Rosabelle slipped her hand into his with a barely covered flinch of disgust and stuttered out that it would be her pleasure to marry him, she was thinking something more along the lines of; how did my tale go so awry? This was not how it was supposed to end. But, at that very moment a certain lone wolf was forming a plot that some may call evil, but to Rosabelle, would most certainly seem like a miracle.
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