Chapter II: The problem with suitors

"Is everything okay, Princess?" Martha said, lifting her face off the floor.

"Everything is fine, Martha. It's just... never mind."

She limped to the chair in her plain bedroom. The rooms of most princesses were grand and we'll furnished, but not Charissa 's. And unlike most princesses, she could actually count her dresses and shoes!

"Thank you Martha," she said, slumping on the chair.

"May I speak freely Princess?"

"What is it this time Martha?" She said, resting her head on her palm.

"I think you're lucky. I mean, you were given the chance to choose your husband," she said bashfully.

She lightly chuckled, staring at the bashful Martha. "What would you want your husband to be like?"

Martha's eyes remained fixed on her shoes. "Well, he would be strong, and handsome, and courageous and...it doesn't matter anyway."

"Why do you say so?"

"My parents want me to become a priestess once you get married. There is no point in fantasizing, I won't get married!" She cried.

"Do you know how lucky you are Martha?"

She blinked, her bright blue eyes wet with tears, "I don't understand..."

"You won't get married. That means no one will decide your life. Besides, you're becoming a priestess of Artemis, I presume?"

She nodded once more. "That means you get the privilege of whipping her male sacrifices, isn't it wonderful?"

Her face became pale. "That's terrible! Why would I want to do that?"

Charissa shrugged. "I've always wanted to tell men they weren't the boss of me, but I lack the courage to do so. Why do you think I'm going through with this? It's because I don't have a choice! Unlike you, if I decide to run away, the kingdom will go into a state of panic! Do not envy me Martha, you're very lucky."

"You shouldn't say those things Princess. You're very lucky, I would kill to be in your shoes," she said, rolling a strand of her hair in her finger, still staring at her shoes.

"Be gone, Martha! Enough of your silly chatter, leave me to mourn my fate! When I require your services, I will call for you. Leave!"

Martha bowed her head and slowly left the room. Charissa felt immense pain, she knew she shouldn't have spoken to her in that time, Martha was just being naïve. She wouldn't apologize though, she was merely a servant and Spartans never apologize. There were some perks being Spartan, she could own property and blame her flaws on her nationality. She stared at the Wind once more, admiring the beauty of Sparta under the moonlit sky.

****

Charissa hissed when she felt the sun's rays on her face. She stretched out on the bed, slowly getting up. Knowing that it was Martha, she allowed her in.

"Good morning Princess," she curtsied. Charissa tried to suppress her giggle, Martha had been in the palace since she was a child but still didn't know how to giggle. When she was alive, Mother used to complain about her inability to curtsy, but Charissa didn't mind.

"Good morning to you too, Martha."

"Isn't it such a lovely day Princess?" She said, drawing the curtains open.

"Indeed it is," she said, picking her fingers, "We should take a walk in the garden later."

"Of course! Shall I draw you a bath?"

"Please do."

Martha hopped into the bathroom. Charissa admired Martha's optimism, although she knew Martha didn't know how evil the world was. She treated Martha like a younger sister, since Martha was just a few months younger than her. Charissa had her childhood stripped away from her, she spent it learning palace rules and other nonsense. She sat on the bed, gingerly undoing her braids.

Martha hopped out of the bedroom once more. "Your bath is ready, Your Majesty."

"Thank you Martha."

She quickly took her bath, changing into a royal blue dress. She had her strawberry blond hair pulled into a bun, ignoring Martha's opinion of pulling it into pigtails. She didn't want to look like a clown, she said. She sat on her chair, drumming her fingers on her lap. She knew Alphonse would send for her soon, she decided to wait till he called. Instead, he came for her.

"It's such a lovely morning, don't you think so?" He said shrewdly, picking up the bird made from wood that lay on her table.

"It seems the sun rose in the west today, because I don't see any reason why the great and powerful Alphonse would come to my chamber."

He chuckled at the princess's remark. "You should learn to hold your tongue, Charissa. Not many men like it when their wife is sharp mouthed. I myself, do not like it."

"Well thank goodness I'm not getting to you."

His laughter reverberated off the room walls.

"I must say Charissa, you do have a way with words."

"I'm sure you aren't here to give me a lecture on my choice of words. Please speak and be gone, I want to take a walk in the gardens."

"I will pretend you didn't say that. I have come to remind you of the tournament."

You mean the one you're organising to sell me off to the highest bidder? I remember it. Do not worry, I won't be late."

"Very well princess, I'll see you at midday." He dropped the bird and left. She was more than happy to see him leave. Her gaze went to Martha who, for the first time in her life, stood still. She knew it was because the elder had been here, but she decided to ask anyway.

"What's wrong Martha, why do you look so pale? Are you ill?"

"It's nothing Princess."

"It's the elder, isn't it?"

She slowly nodded her head, receiving a laughter from the princess in response. "My dear Martha," she remarked, "You don't have to be afraid of the elder. He's just old and when people become old, they tend to become a pain in the behind."

"It's not that, it just...the way you spoke to him!" She said, her eyes sparkling in admiration, "It was amazing! I do admire you and hope to be like you when I get older."

"Don't try to be like me, Martha. Be yourself. Is that understood?"

She nodded bashfully. Charissa stared out the window, frowning at the view. The land had lost the sparkling beauty and glamour it had the night before. Disappointed, she got up from the chair. "Come now Martha, let's take that walk."

"Of course my lady," she said, bowing her head.

She left the room, Martha following her like a shadow.