I
“How much longer do I have to wait? Are we there yet?” Aria had spent the last 6 days trapped in a moving prison. The ship had departed the Kingdom of Celenial just before dawn 6 days ago, moving through the abyss of the sea to Oceana, the land of promises.
“We are almost at the port, princess,” a young maid muttered, her brown eyes shining while watching the beautiful land of Oceana grow closer. Oceana had been a dream for everyone in Celenial. Who wouldn’t dream of a kingdom where you don’t have to starve to live another day, if the famines were so much as kind to you. In Celenial only the royal family and the aristocrat families were protected from the angry gods that ruled it.
Aria yawned and looked around her small room; there were dresses and jewelry everywhere, all sprawled out waiting for her decision on which to wear to meet her future husband. Her two maids had practically become one with the window and had given up on helping her get dressed.
She got up from the bed, her whole body aching from sleeping 5 nights to a hard mattress. Her long tule nightgown hanged from her body, she had lost so much weight in the last month. She didn’t want to marry him. Not as a sacrifice to a man she didn’t know. Her whole life she had longed for freedom, but now she would be the exact opposite; a married princess, a mere instrument to stop the war between the two countries, a mere vessel to bear a child.
“Let us undress you, princess,” the two maidens bowed and inched closer to Aria. Aria lifted her hand in the air, stopping them from doing anything and signaling them to get back.
“It’s okay, I will do it myself, give me some privacy.” The maids looked at each other and slowly inched towards the door, exchanging puzzled glances; the princess had never been one to do things herself.
Once the maids closed the wooden door behind her with a creak, Aria could finally breathe freely again. She let her nightgown slip from her slender body and down to her cold feet. There was a broken mirror at the corner of the dimply lit room, and she caught a glimpse of herself from the back. Her muscles were flexed, her whole body on some imaginary alarm, filled with tension. She tried to relax, took some deep breaths, and let her body grow soft. She could make out thin pale pink lines all over her body, the aftermath of her father, the price a bastard child had to pay.
Aria inched closer to the mirror and softly touched her reflection; sunken eyes in a turmoiled brown looked back at her. Her hair though washed only yesterday was matted, its vivid red color a thing of the past. She held back tears and turned to her dresses.
“Who am I kidding,” she muttered again and again as she went through the many dresses. Aria had already pictured the prince’s wide eyes as soon as he would see her. Red hair, meaning the bastard princess. She would be rather lucky would she walk out the palace unscathed and with her head intact between her shoulders.
She shook her head and picked up a black velvet dress. She mourned the day of her wedding, as it would probably be the day she dies.
The first thing Ellian noticed when Aria walked in palace was the way her curls bounced as she dragged herself to where he was standing. Fiery red, the same way her eyes burned. Her body was a different story; she walked slowly and painstakingly; her shoulders were hunched over as if she was carrying the weight of the world. Ellian burrowed his brows, correcting his thoughts as he realized she probably was, Celenial was her world.
His father, the King, scoffed as soon as he laid eyes on her. Everyone in Oceana knew that the red haired one was the daughter of a servant.
“Where is Zaya,” the king, Pallius, asked Aria, before she even got to introduce herself, stopping her dead in its tracks. Zaya is Aria’s sister, the ‘real’ royal. With the brown hair and eyes of the queen; her spitting image. Instead, Aria had the fierce blood red hair of a servant, but the golden eyes of the king. The king looked at Aria from head to toe, before he settled his eyes on hers, staring deeply. His mouth was a line, Ellian could see his tight jaw from the side. He was furious.
Aria bowed and without an ounce of fear retorted back in a somehow even colder voice than the king.
“She is sick, so the king sent me in her stead. I am my father’s daughter as well.”
“Bullshit,” the king raised his voice.
“He just didn’t want to give up the heir to his throne and sent me the bastard one.” Pallius inched closer to Aria, she could smell his breath; bitter and sour.
“How am I supposed to wed my son, the future king, to a red-haired impure child?” If even a rose petal dared to fall on the floor, everyone would hear it loud and clear. Aria didn’t break eye contact once, but she could feel herself starting to shiver underneath her black gown. The lace and tule dress had been enough to keep her warm before, but now the room was freezing. It took everything strength she had inside her for her teeth not to chatter and her shivers not to be apparent.
“Father,” Ellian softly touched his arm and looked at Aria.
“It is a 6-day trip from Celenial, she must be tired. Let’s talk about it when dinner comes in a few hours.” Despite the softness of his touch, Ellian’s voice was hard as steel and cold as ice.
“Well then. Show her to her room,” the king signaled to Ellian.
“Dinner is in 3 hours,” he declared, his boots echoed as he disappeared behind a colossal golden door. Aria could only guess that was the main ball room from the glimpse she managed once the king opened the door.
The prince’s soft façade fell, and he looked at Aria coldly, his forest green eyes scanning her and her expressions.
“You, alone, come with me,” he said and turned his back to Aria. He called a few servants, who disappeared from Aria’s sight along with her two maids and the general commander that had ensured her safe arrival.
It was only the two of them now.
Aria followed him, having to quicken her pace as Ellian was extremely tall and his pace fast. It was all she could do not to step in her long dress as she almost ran behind him. Finally, after what seemed like 10 minutes, they reached a long corridor of closed doors. Ellian approached the second one on the left and motioned her to step inside.
Aria found herself in a huge bedroom, blindingly beautiful. Everywhere she looked were pastel pink accents and golden jewelry, presumably gifts for her arrival. The bed was huge and in the middle of the room. There was a long white lace dress sprawled across it, which she realized was her wedding dress. Her room back home was not even half the size; she could easily get lost in this room.
Ellian closed the door behind them and before Aria could realize what he was doing, he grabbed her by her neck and pinned her to the wall. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see and her head hurt from the impact. She tried to grab his hand that was on her neck, hit him until he lessens his grip, but he wouldn’t budge. The strength with which he choked her was getting greater with every second that passed, and she was starting to see black from the corners of her eyes. It wouldn’t be long before she would faint, and she dreaded to think of what he would do to her once she was unable to defend herself.
“Why you?” Ellian asked, his voice low and ringing menacingly in Aria’s ears.
“I-I can’t-“ Aria choked out, her veins pulsating through her head and ears. She had a minute before blacking out at most. She continued to hit his hand with hers, only she was getting weaker and now could barely lift them.
“Don’t think for even a second that I am going to respect you,” he spat and lessened his grip enough for her to take a sharp breath.
“If we get married, you are my little toy. A princess and a queen is far from what you will become.” Ellian let her go and Aria dropped to her knees, gasping for air, her eyes bloodshot. She brought a shaky hand to her neck where a purple bruise was starting to form. Her skin was tender to the touch; it made her wince. Silent tears fell as she tried to think rationally.
It was either she became a slave to the prince or shipped back a corpse.
“I had no choice,” Aria heaved and raised her head to look at him. Ellian fell to one knee and gently placed his finger under her chin, raising her head softly to look him in the eyes. This gentle touch was the complete opposite to him almost strangling her.
“Such beautiful eyes, they remind me of the sun.” He let her head fall abruptly. He got up, leaving Aria curled up in a ball on the floor.
“Look forward to tonight, my little doe.” Ellian chuckled and left Aria’s room. Aria struggled to raise herself from the cold marble floor, the nickname he gave her echoing in her ears along with his eyes burning her skin. She raised her arms slowly and covered her chest, her cold finger circling around her skin.
She dragged herself to the humongous bed that now seemed able to swallow her and rubbed her palms on her dress. The fabric burned her cold palms, but it was the only way to stop them from shaking, and the only way to keep herself from bursting to tears.
She looked towards the door and realized she had just entered a more luxurious prison. There was nowhere on this land that she was safe, even more so in this palace. Before any thoughts of escaping could enter her mind, a maid with grey hair and a wrinkled smile let her know that she should take a bath and get ready for dinner.
The maid didn’t seem to notice Aria shaking and crying, and if she did, she was good at masking it. She left as quietly as she came, leaving Aria in a deafening silence.
