The scowl on my face has not left for the entire four-month trip. I had been criticized for it by Lady Jesskler, but luckily she had to be dropped off at the last town on urgent business. I could not take any more of her talking, especially about how unladylike I was. In my opinion, having to be a lady is quite foolish.

I grit my teeth at the sound of cheering up ahead. Mindless fools the lot of them, but I could not blame them for they were kept uneducated and bored by my father. I had noticed this from traveling back from Brimworth that all the children had to do for fun was throwing rocks at each other. 

I lean over and shut the curtain so I would not have people trying to look in at me. People were always looking, so fascinated by someone of a higher class than them. I sigh and try to slump down, but my corset does not allow for it. I had not worn one for the entirety of the trip despite constant protests from Lady Jesskler, and it had been wonderful. Unfortunately, my father was someone that saying no to would lead to consequences. I definitely loved to defy him when I was younger, but after what he did to my mother, well, I learned not to. 

I jump at the sudden noise of shouting. It was the coachman. Was that a young boy yelling as well? Probably a nitwit either not knowing the horses will trample him or just a child looking for some crazy fun. Either way, it's entertainment for me; seeing children get hurt is always a merry time. I shift over to the window to see, a small smile on my face, but am disappointed to see the boy and his...chicken, unscathed and on top of- I fall backward into my seat. The person had looked up, and I most definitely did not want them to see me, especially if it was who I thought it was. He was a boy when I left, only a year older than me, and now... well now he is a man. Quite a handsome one as well. 

I groan and bang my head on the seat in frustration. As a child, I had talked to him to make my father angry, but then I actually found him to be enjoyable. I even started to fancy him a few months before I stopped talking to him. Five years. It had been five years, and you would think I would not feel this way again, but here I am, my stomach a mess. 

I sit up as I feel the carriage slow. I do not fancy him still 'twas just a feeling of nostalgia. It will not matter anyway; I'm sure my father will be marrying me off at the first chance.

The door opens, and I smooth down my hair before stepping out as elegantly as I can. It all looks the exact same; bushes shipped in from Vales lined the palace but other than that, t'was barren; all so plain. 

"Your Royal Highness, if you would follow me, King Dormer is waiting for you." I give a nod and tight-lipped smile. I doubt this will go well.

I take a deep breath before the guards open the giant golden doors my father is behind. He looks the same, just like the palace, plain and old. The only thing new is his shaven head, as was the custom when men turned 50. I walk over, holding my head higher than usual, and curtsy, making sure to keep eye contact. "Your majesty," I say coldly. 

"My darling daughter, it is so lovely to see you after all these years." He smiles brightly and waves the guards away, so it is just me and him. His words are obviously for the audience of the guards, but now they are gone, I prepare myself for the real King Dormer.

"I am surprised you are not dead yet." He scowls, and I give a big smile, tilting my head slightly for added sass. 

"You shan't be here long. I am sure a suitor will want to take you for your title or money." There it is. He had instilled the idea that no man would love me for me since I was young, and my time at Brimworth proved him true. 

"Of course, and how long will that take? I do not want to be here long." His lip curls into a snarl at my tone, and I fight back the urge to smirk. The ladies at Brimworth would always smack me when I did, so I am sure my father would take great distaste if I were to. 

"Oh, don't worry, you will be gone soon enough." I cower back a bit. Something in his eyes tells me that's a threat. He waves me away, and I curtsy, keeping my eyes down this time. I walk out of there as quickly and elegantly as I can. I remember seeing that look in my father's eyes before and the devastation that came after. My father may have been evil, but he surely would not do something to his own daughter. I know, deep down, that is just wishful thinking, but the truth is just too ugly to face.

By the time I reach the fifth floor, I am faintly winded and guess I had climbed thousands of stairs. I can not help but think about how the ladies at Brimworth would make us walk the entire estate as fast as we could as punishment, and while I used to hate it, I am quite thankful for it now.

I look up from the floor with a snarl at the sound of my 'dear' brother's chuckle. "Your highness," he says snidely. I upturn my nose in disgust. "Dustin," I reply, keeping my voice level. I know both of us will blow up if we become angry, the only difference being he becomes physical.

"Is that any way to talk to your beloved brother, sister?" He cocks his head to the side and takes a few steps forward. "It is when that brother is not so beloved." He takes the final steps to close the distance between us. I bite the inside of my cheek. I should not have provoked him.

"You'll regret your words when I am king, Danielle." His breath reeks of onions, and it takes everything in me to not spit in his face. He is a cocky bastard who doesn't deserve the throne but got it because he was a man, barely even he's basically a boy. He gives me one last glare before storming away mumbling how I'm not worth it. I swallow down my pride and anger as he goes, knowing making a rude remark will probably get me beaten or, even worse, whipped.

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I stand there for a few seconds, the feeling of being whipped surfacing, before shaking my head and walking away myself. As I walk my finger traces the old wallpaper's patterns like I did when I was younger. 

The memory of that day is vivid. The smell of flowers my mother had bought, lilies I believe, and the sound of servants running around with decorations was prominent. They were preparing for my birthday banquet that was held in two days. 

I rest my hand on her door. I can still hear us laughing together and her voice as she read to me. Her voice used to be so loud and clear in my head, but it has become muted and fuzzy over the years.                                                                                                                                                                           

The door creaks open and lets out a loud bang when it closes. Everything is the same. It seems nothing ever changes here. 

The silence is deafening as I walk over to my mother's ivory vanity. The small box is sitting exactly where it did five years ago. I gently pick it up, dust particles flying everywhere as I open it to reveal the ring she wore every day. When I asked about it, she said it was a sapphire leaf ring and that someone very special gave it to her. I do not know how my father went from giving her beautiful gifts to hating her. The way she talked about him that night made me want a love like that, but after what he did, I now fear love is a sham. 

I carefully pick up the ring holding it like it is a delicate piece of glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. I examine it for a few more moments before hesitantly putting it on. I smile sadly at it resting perfectly on my ring finger. I miss her with every part of my being and wish I had talked to her that day instead of running away like a defiant toddler. 

I gasp, the air from my lungs suddenly gone. The pain in my heart courses through my body, making it hard to stand. Sliding down to the floor, my hand winds its way up into my hair, and I grab a fistful of it and yank. I pull and pull, but it does nothing to relieve my aching heart. It never does.

I walk somberly down a random hall. No destination in mind, just walking aimlessly. My focus is on my feet, one foot after the other, don't stumble or trip. That's what the ladies always said. They also said always to keep your chin up, but I feel I need to focus on my feet; otherwise, I might collapse again. And I know how pathetic that is still mourning the loss of my mother years later, but I just can not get over it.

I let out a startled gasp as someone trips over my foot. On instinct, I catch them, but their weight pulls us down, making me dip the stranger. My eyes trail up to meet their face, and I freeze. Of bloody course it's him. He opens his eyes, shock written all over his face. "Oh." He murmurs. 'Oh?' What does that mean? Is that a good or a bad oh? Ugh, I should not care like this. His words should mean nothing to me so why do I wish to know the extent of that one simple word. By God this man has driven me completely mad, and- I fall to the floor with a grunt no longer able to hold us up.

I open my mouth to say something, but he grabs my hand and drags me up against the wall. "Wh-" He places his hand over my mouth to silence me. The absolute audacity this man has. Surely he remembers knows who I am, or perhaps he does not care and is a fool. Either way, I am not going to allow him to restrain me. I try wiggling my way out, but he is surprisingly strong. You would not think that by his noodle-looking arms. 

I bite his hand, hoping that will make him let me go. He lets out a small grunt but still does not budge. Maybe I should headbutt him? Alright one, two -wah.

I stumble backward and realize he had let me go. "Who do you think you are!" I cry out furiously. I should have him thrown in the dungeon for touching me. 

"Listen Princess I-" The impertinence this guy has. "It's your highness to you."

"Of course, I'm sorry your highness." 

His fear is evident, and I will not lie I enjoy the feeling of power this gives me so I decide to have a little fun with him. I click my tongue, "Add royal to that as well." I try to keep the smirk off my face as his frown deepens. 

"Right, well, your royal highness-"  

"No no you should definitely add a bow while saying it." I interrupt tilting my head to the side. I had to admit his flustered look is adorable.

He repeats everything perfectly and then... he gives a sincere apology. I stare at him. It does not seem like there are any ill intentions behind his words just a pure genuine apology. I am unsure what to do with myself so I give a quick, awkward goodbye and hurriedly walk away.

While walking as quickly as I can to get to my room my brother's voice stops me dead in my tracks. "I want her gone immediately!" he yells. He's obviously talking about me but to who?

I creep closer, careful not to step on a creaky floorboard. I lean in close to the ajar door, trying to hear what the other person is saying. "-idnight it should be done." Though the voice is barely above a whisper, I can tell it's my father. 

"I wish I could kill her myself." I cover my mouth to keep from gasping. 

"Trust me; an assassin is the best way to go about this."

I back up slowly, my hand trembling in fright. Spinning on my heel, I am met by a surprised-looking servant. "Your highness, I've been lookin' for ya." The servant is short and wrinkled, and it looks like she is missing a few teeth. 

"You have?" I ask as calmly as I can as if I had not just overheard a murder plot against me.

 "Mhm, I'm 'ere to help ya dress for dinner." The lady starts towards the stairs, and I follow, albeit at a slow pace due to her limp.

            "So I recommend not doing that, Lady Dormer." I mumble absentmindedly in response. The servant whose name I have not bothered to learn just finished another story. 

"Well, all done." She declares, and I let out a sigh of relief. Though that relief is short-lived as I realize I have to go to dinner now. What is supposed to be a wondrous time filled with divine food is going to be absolute agony. I wave the woman away so I can steel myself alone.

I take a few deep breaths, but that helps nothing. A great sense of peace washes over me and I look down to realize I had been subconsciously fiddling with mother's ring. Okay. Let's do this.