The Exiled Gem

A Princess' World

Rose, meanwhile, was quiet and talented. She often accompanied Olivia to those Royal Parties, and the two came back giggling and gossiping, their faces flushed and hairdos undone. Sometimes, the stories they brought back were interesting. Other times, they were plain horrendous retellings of silly, street-side rumors. Things like "such-and-such and so-and-so are separating!" and "this-and-that place is haunted. Miss D. never came back from there!" and when Alexandra dozed off through their recounting, she received smacks down her head with fluffy, plush pillows that hurt nevertheless. 

In short, Rose and Olivia weren't ready to accept that they were boring.

Alexandra had a brother too: royal families were never without an heir. Somebody she never interacted much with. He lived in a world of his own. Training, attending Court with King Adelard, visiting inharmonious locations and sorting out his own duties as the Heir of Columberra.

Austin. 

As best as Alexandra remembered, he was tall and lean. His silver hair was always pushed up and his blue eyes sparkled with unsaid thoughts. Austin seldom spoke - Alexandra did not even clearly remember what his voice sounded like. 

She herself, at seventeen, didn't have very distinguished looks, inclination towards parties or feminine qualities. She didn't possess any great talents or duties either. Alexandra was just there. Maybe the reason she was referred to as an "error". There was no need of her - Princesses were needed to bring alliances, by marrying into other royal families - or to bring laurels, by rejecting the scions of a few royal families. 

For rejecting somebody, there had to be a proposal. There were plenty of proposals for Olivia, not as many, but quite a few for Rose. None for oddball Alexandra. 

Not that the Oddball cared. The princess was Odd because she didn't care. Her words were her stronghold. Even at ages as young as eight or nine, Alexandra remembered having left her siblings speechless. And one thing she was very sure of, was that, somebody who could disarm people of their words - was strong. So was she.

But being talkative, unfortunately, was not a very princess-like skill. And the unmarked protagonist suffered her part - spending excruciating hours upon getting "civilized" when it was not remotely possible.

'I'm extremely sorry for the delay, Your Highnesses.' The Oracle's low, sharp voice rumbled. Alexandra looked up to see him framed in the entrance of the glassy chamber, a pile of old, thin, peeling manuscripts under one hand and a smile glinting through his Pepper colored beard. 'I hope it is not too late?'

Olivia got up at once. Either she had a mysterious soft spot for him, or she wanted to get some work done, because Olivia never easily graced anybody with leaving her seat. 'Not at all, Sir. Alexandra has been a bit restless, but she is always restless, so it is no big deal.' and she smiled, warmly. The Oracle too, seemed surprised by the sudden change in demeanor. But he maintained his professionalism - a quality that 99% of Dovish lacked.

'That is just as well, Princess. I shall first have a look at Princess Alexandra's horoscope.' He offered. Olivia's face underwent a herculean change with that sentence, a mix of dismay and frustration. Evidently, she was in a hurry to go first.

'Oh yes, Sir.' Alexandra smirked, walking forward. 'I would love to go first. Sister Olivia is quite patient. Is she not?' She asked maliciously, turning to Olivia, who raised her eyebrows in an I'll deal with you later look. 

'But why not!' Olivia smiled pleasantly - grimacing underneath. Then she took a step backward, allowing him to open up his manuscripts. 

'Born on a Sunday...' The Oracle mumbled, leafing through the book and nodding to himself. 'Evening...' He added, tracing his chin. Alexandra sat through the routine patiently. Just another ten minutes and she could be free. She watched him fold pages and annotate rashly, then flip through some more. Finally, he stopped at a particularly folded leaflet, frowning.