Own thoughts

I'm furious about that Prince. How dare he? His words echo in my mind, and I know Vale and Nicholai heard them too. I saw the way their bodies stiffened at his insinuations. Marriage? Me? I'd like to see them try.

I grab a lamp and hurl it against the wall, watching it shatter into tiny pieces. The sound is oddly satisfying, but it does little to quell my anger. I take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. Fine, if that's how they want to play, I'll be ready for them.

*

I glance at the parchment, confirming that Haroun is now officially my personal knight. This means neither Luan nor Linus can lay a claim on him. Yes, Linus too—he showed up just a few hours after Luan. The brothers are relentless.

Soon, Haroun walks in, dressed in his new uniform. The rumors about a man in uniform are true. The royal guard's outfit features a deep blue jacket with gold trimmings and epaulettes. A golden grey moon emblem adorns the chest, symbolizing the moon goddess. The high collar has a gold cross design, and gold buttons run down the front. White trousers contrast with the blue jacket, tucked into polished black boots. A finely crafted sword hangs at his side, completing the look.

He looks so professional, so authoritative. Only personal royal guards and commanders wear the full moon emblem. The rest of the guards and soldiers have a quarter moon symbol, their higher-ups the half moon, and the highest commanders and personal royal guards bear the full moon.

Seeing Haroun in his uniform fills me with a sense of pride and satisfaction and other desires, I think to myself with a snicker.

*

I'm walking towards my destination, weighed down by an extremely heavy dress. I don't know how Stacy manages to dress me in this on her own. I'm glad because I don't want a bunch of maids. The dress looks magnificent but weighs me down, making me already long for my usual, lighter gowns. I thought red wouldn't be my color, but it turns out all colors are my color.

I hold onto Haroun's arm as we head towards the greenhouse. I love that my small palace is tucked away from the main activities of the royal grounds, offering me peace and solitude, but I hate the distance during occasions like this.

Eventually, we arrive at the greenhouse, which is teeming with noble ladies. Their faces are familiar, though I've forgotten most of their names. It's been years since I last saw them, back when they were teenagers. Now, they are in their twenties, and I'm sure some are married. Haroun helps me to my seat, his touch steadying me before he steps back to stand with the other guards. Look at him being so professional.

The greenhouse is a stunning sight, filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery. The scent of blooming roses and exotic flowers fills the air, adding to the atmosphere of elegance. The noble ladies are adorned in their finest dresses, their laughter and conversations creating a lively buzz.

As I take my seat, I feel their curious eyes on me. It's been a while since I attended such a gathering, and I can sense the unspoken questions and speculations. It has been a month or so since I came back from my pilgrim and I ignored their invitations.

I look up and steel my facial expression into the fake sweetness accustomed to noble women. The other ladies stand and bow, only my dear sister Stella remains upright, staring at me. She still looks like a child, but I suppose it works for her innocent, childlike appeal—something I wouldn't know much about.

I motion for them to take their seats and make eye contact with Stella. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, she might pass off as a royal like me or our two brothers if you squint a bit or increase the brightness,I laugh internally at my own terrible joke.

"Sister," Stella says, her voice soft but clear.

"Sister," I acknowledge, my tone equally composed.

A maid pours me some tea, I take a sip and renain silent. The room falls into an awkward silence, the tension palpable. Eventually, Stella starts a conversation, and the buzz of chatter resumes, filling the air with a semblance of normalcy.

I watch Lady Starforge, Stella's number one lackey and Luan's fiancée. Yet, Luan's fiancée is also a foreign princess. Interesting. I guess polygamy is allowed if it's a man.

As I sip my tea, I observe the dynamics at play. Lady Starforge is a master at navigating social hierarchies, her every move calculated to maintain her position. Her loyalty to Stella is unwavering, and she casts furtive glances at me, perhaps assessing my intentions.

Stella continues to speak, her voice a gentle murmur that blends seamlessly with the ambient noise. She's adept at charming the room, her innocent demeanor disarming even the most critical of eyes. I marvel at her ability to maintain such an image. It's a skill I've never quite mastered, honestly I would rather not.

I let myself drift into my own thoughts.