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THROUGH THE WINDOW, SHE WATCHED. The small, delicate snowflakes sprinkled from the sky above. The thick clouds hit the sun as if they wanted the world to suffer from the cold and the cold alone. But she felt as though the others who were not wearing thick clothes as she was, those who weren't living in a place as warm as she was were luckier. Way luckier.
There she sat, on the purple velvet armchair beside the wooden side table of the matching wooden framing the chair possessed. Her long gown acted like a blanket to protect her legs from the goal. The elegant piece of accessory felt heavy on her head, despite it being relatively smaller than her mother's and father's.
Her hands tightly held the book she had in hand, fingertips losing their colour as they did. A warm breath escaped her parted lips, appearing visible in the ambience as did the steam from the warm cup of tea. Her gentle fingers reached for the porcelain, holding it up to her lips and tilting it ever so slightly.
Then a knock came from the door, the large door that had been protecting her from the pair she found to be against, keeping her hidden from the predicament that was yet to come.
"Yes?" F/n voiced out before taking another sip of the lukewarm tea.
"His Majesty requests for your presence," the royal guard spoke through the layer of wood.
The girl pursed her lips as she glared at her shoes. Placing the teacup back on the tray, she stood up and stretched her wings before glancing at the door. With another sigh, she exited her room, expectantly looking at the guard. The man in armour bent down slightly and gestured for her. Walking through the obnoxiously large hallway, F/n grimaced.
All the memories she experienced through the years of being isolated in these suffocating walls made her unable to breathe properly. She wanted to shrug off her dress and lay on the bed all day in her nightgown. She wanted to take off the accessory that placed a heavy burden on her head and throw it away, never wanting to see it. But she couldn't. All she could do was to listen to her father's every word.
"Father," she curtsied to her parents. "Mother."
"F/n," the man on the throne spoke, his deep voice resonating through the entire room. "I expect you to know why I have called you here."
F/n glanced around, head still bowed down. "Yes, father."
The King leant back, his arms resting on the armrests as he continued, "Then I expect you to already know what you should be doing tomorrow."
F/n felt unable to speak up for herself as she quietly stared at the shiny, glittering floor, free from dust and dirt.
"I just turned 18," she said, gaining both parents' attention. "You cannot anticipate me earning myself a prince in just one day, do you?"
