Post by Dizney on Jan 26, 2019 22:50:39 GMT -5
I am the eldest of my brothers and sisters. I knew since I was young, that I'd have to inherit my father's throne. At first, I was overjoyed, thinking of the possibilities I would have. Now, I am having many second thoughts. I am still young yet, and I am unsure if I am ready for the responsibilities I face. Oh, how lucky my younger siblings are; they no not of what burdens being a king or queen would be. I do. And my children will, too. But I fear for my young, as I fear their father will be a bloodthirsty fool, much like my own father. But I need not worry about that today. No, for tonight, a special ball is being held. The ball celebrating my eighteenth birthday.
I sat on the cushioned chair, my mother standing behind me, brushing out my long, dark brown hair. I looked at my reflection through the mirror, smiling at myself. My hair draped over my shoulders, pearls twisted with my curls to make my hair look robust and unique. I had two small braids that came together near the crown of my head that ended in the same curls as the rest of my hair. My mother leaned down once she was finished and kissed my powered cheek.
"You look astounding," she whispered.
I stood and turned to look at her. My smile widened. "I hope so, my dear mother," I replied quietly. I glanced down and smoothed out my long dress. It was a soft burgundy color, and white trimmed the ends and around my waist, and with it, I wore long white gloves that ended just before my elbows.
My mother smiled and me and took my hand in hers. "Come now, my sweet Ali. Everyone has come for your birthday. We would not wish to be late." With that, she led me from the comfort of my large bedroom, out into the main hall.
I never knew how many people cared about a princess's birthday. Apparently, turning eighteen was a very big celebration. My father stood, his blue eyes gleaming with joy as he saw me. I wished I had his eyes, for they were also such a gorgeous color. But my golden brown eyes suited me well, and they reminded me of my mother's.
He raised a gold glass, a grin implanted on his broad face. "To my wonderful, beautiful daughter. Aliyana, I wish you the best, as you will soon be named the Queen of England. To Aliyana!" His voice boomed across the large room, and I watched as everyone raised their glasses with him. "To Aliyana!"
And then came the dancing.
It was my duty to dance with any eligible bachelor I chose, and I had chosen many. All of which had absolutely no clue on how to dance. The sad thing was, each was as charming as the last. How I wished to have found one of them to be called my future husband. But none of them, not one, appealed to me.
After a while, I gave up.
I sat on my small throne, my long dress brushing the floor, as all dresses should. My father looked at me and smiled. "My dear, do not fret. I'm sure your future husband will be here soon," he said.
I nodded. "Me too, Father."
"Why look, there he is now!" I looked at him. What did he mean? My gaze turned to the man my father was looking at, and I frowned. I had danced with that man earlier in the night. He was vile, and grabbed me in ways unbefitting of a man I had never met before. He smelled of sewage and spoke to me in such vulgar ways... I would never choose him as my husband.
My father saw the look in my eye, and frowned. "My darling, you had to have known I was going to arrange your marriage. It is custom! And the man I have chosen is such a well-suited bachelor, he will be a lovely husband for you." My eyes widened in horror and I stood, shaking my head.
"I refuse," I told him angrily, but the look in my father's eyes told me I did not have a choice. "My dear, this has already been decided. The King and Queen of Spain have consented, as have I. You will marry him." My gaze hardened with anger and sadness, as I yelled "no!" and ran from the ballroom.
I ran until I found the center of our garden, which housed a large and beautiful marble fountain. I then flung myself down to the ground, clutching the edge of the fountain as tears spilled from my eyes. I did not want to marry that man, would not marry that man. But what choice did I have?
I sat on the cushioned chair, my mother standing behind me, brushing out my long, dark brown hair. I looked at my reflection through the mirror, smiling at myself. My hair draped over my shoulders, pearls twisted with my curls to make my hair look robust and unique. I had two small braids that came together near the crown of my head that ended in the same curls as the rest of my hair. My mother leaned down once she was finished and kissed my powered cheek.
"You look astounding," she whispered.
I stood and turned to look at her. My smile widened. "I hope so, my dear mother," I replied quietly. I glanced down and smoothed out my long dress. It was a soft burgundy color, and white trimmed the ends and around my waist, and with it, I wore long white gloves that ended just before my elbows.
My mother smiled and me and took my hand in hers. "Come now, my sweet Ali. Everyone has come for your birthday. We would not wish to be late." With that, she led me from the comfort of my large bedroom, out into the main hall.
I never knew how many people cared about a princess's birthday. Apparently, turning eighteen was a very big celebration. My father stood, his blue eyes gleaming with joy as he saw me. I wished I had his eyes, for they were also such a gorgeous color. But my golden brown eyes suited me well, and they reminded me of my mother's.
He raised a gold glass, a grin implanted on his broad face. "To my wonderful, beautiful daughter. Aliyana, I wish you the best, as you will soon be named the Queen of England. To Aliyana!" His voice boomed across the large room, and I watched as everyone raised their glasses with him. "To Aliyana!"
And then came the dancing.
It was my duty to dance with any eligible bachelor I chose, and I had chosen many. All of which had absolutely no clue on how to dance. The sad thing was, each was as charming as the last. How I wished to have found one of them to be called my future husband. But none of them, not one, appealed to me.
After a while, I gave up.
I sat on my small throne, my long dress brushing the floor, as all dresses should. My father looked at me and smiled. "My dear, do not fret. I'm sure your future husband will be here soon," he said.
I nodded. "Me too, Father."
"Why look, there he is now!" I looked at him. What did he mean? My gaze turned to the man my father was looking at, and I frowned. I had danced with that man earlier in the night. He was vile, and grabbed me in ways unbefitting of a man I had never met before. He smelled of sewage and spoke to me in such vulgar ways... I would never choose him as my husband.
My father saw the look in my eye, and frowned. "My darling, you had to have known I was going to arrange your marriage. It is custom! And the man I have chosen is such a well-suited bachelor, he will be a lovely husband for you." My eyes widened in horror and I stood, shaking my head.
"I refuse," I told him angrily, but the look in my father's eyes told me I did not have a choice. "My dear, this has already been decided. The King and Queen of Spain have consented, as have I. You will marry him." My gaze hardened with anger and sadness, as I yelled "no!" and ran from the ballroom.
I ran until I found the center of our garden, which housed a large and beautiful marble fountain. I then flung myself down to the ground, clutching the edge of the fountain as tears spilled from my eyes. I did not want to marry that man, would not marry that man. But what choice did I have?