Lucille’s head swam, her vision was blurred as the weight of what she had just been told robbed her of her senses. Voices were heard, but she could not decipher them. About the room councilmen and advisors were shuffling awkwardly, but she could see nought but smudges of colour.

Before her stood her father. The King stood stalwart where the others around her turned their heads and edged away.

Lucille drew in a series of sharp breaths to refocus. Her father was a large man, the physique of a once proud warrior to whom age was unkind. He stood, back straight and proud, though a slight hump had begun to curve his neck. He looked down on his daughter.

“You did what?” Lucille demanded, her voice wavering, the intended strength she tried to muster falling flat, the question little more than a whisper.

A mumble went across the chamber as the advisors cleared throats and tried to simultaneously have their presence known and ignored.

The King coughed, the noise resonating against the stone walls “I have arranged for your marriage” He said the words again, as curtly as the first time, words unwavering and without refute. The pain struck Lucille as hard as the first time, she staggered back “I refuse” She said, it was an empty statement against such a dominant man, she said it again, emboldened with her frustration and near shouted the words.

“You do not get a say in this” The King said, Darius looked down on his daughter. There may have been a hint of pity and regret within his tone, but the steely gaze reflected none of it. Instead all Lucille saw as she looked up at the man who raised her was a deep-set coldness and absence. There was nothing in those eyes.

An elderly advisor shuffled forward and raised a gnarled finger “Marriages for someone of you status are often arranged like this young lady” he pulled back his hand as Lucille shot him a deadly stare, but feebly wetted his lips to continue regardless “The importance of politics often escape the confines of a child’s mind, where they are want of wanderlust and adventure. But you must soon understand that this marriage is required.”

Lucille beat her fists against her side and bellowed “marriage should be for love!”

Several people about the room issued a short burst of laughter, her father was one of them and the young girl deflated as her reasoning fell further onto deaf ears.

“Our realm cannot survive another war” Darius began, he placed a large hand on Lucille’s shoulder, though no comfort was felt from its presence “To survive we need to ally ourselves with Theranok. We have nothing they could not take if they desired, and yet their Prince, Aeddan is yet unwed. None other than a princess could suffice, and no other asset do we have that is more valuable.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The names her father spoke brought back some vague recollections, Theranok had been taught to her during her schooling years, the neighbouring realm had frequently clashed with their own and while she could not recall it, she knew there had been a war when she was but an infant, whereupon Theranok almost won. The general in charge of the attack she remembered now, was Aeddan. The man she was to wed.

Her silence led her father to embrace her fully, an unusual show of affection for the King to bestow whilst before his council. But the sentiment was lost on the young girl, this was not the embrace Lucille wanted, these were not the arms of a person who cared. She pushed off her father and ran from the room.

-

With no where to go Lucille had found herself in her bed chamber. There was an understandable commotion among the staff that had eluded Lucille before, as preparations were underway to receive the Prince.

A handmaiden came to advise Lucille that a dinner was to be held that night and attendance was required. The maid was met with a few, curt and choice words.

Shortly after another came by to present Lucille with a dress. The garment she was to present herself to the Prince in. Lucille refused to raise her face from her pillow for the exchange and when she heard the latch of the door close behind her she began to weep.

Eventually her sorrow descended her into a slumber.

-

A fanfare of pipes and trumpets woke her, she couldn’t discern how much time had passed, though the light of the day was muted now and the bright golden rays of the morning that shone through the window were replaced with the cold grey atmosphere of the late afternoon.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes Lucille went to her balcony to see what was occurring, forgetting for a moment the preceding elements of the day. From her balcony she could see the courtyard. A royal procession was coming in through the gates and a host of dignitaries and advisors were lined up to meet the arrival. She could see her father at the head of the crowd.

Through the gates poured a parade, White banners adorned with golden stags were carried by soldiers in ceremonial attire. Drummers kept the lines moving with precision and several high-ranking men rode on horseback through the centre.

She expected to see a carriage, some great big ornate thing, gaudy and rich for this Prince to sit in. But Aeddan came through the gate on horseback, too far away to discern any features, he was noticeable only by the surrounding guards that enshrouded him.

Lucille looked form the parade to the dress her maid brought in earlier. It was an ugly thing, unlike any of the dresses she had worn prior, shaped to her figure and adorned with jewels. It looked very much to Lucille as though the intention of the dress was to abandon her childhood and take the first steps into being an adult.

She dwelled on what that meant for her, if her father and the advisors were right, is marriage just a political thing, could she continue her pursuit of love and simply sacrifice part of her life for the sake of peace. Or was this a prison from which she would be doomed to spend her life.

She didn’t want to find out, and heading for the door of her room Lucille decided she wasn’t going to.