Iridescent

Chapter 15

Is it really a crime to not want to be boring? To not just go through the motions of it all?

"Stasia," His voice cut through my thoughts.

His patience really is exhausting. This conversation is tedious. Why did I even start it in the first place?

Was I really expecting him to fold? To excuse himself from it and wave white flags? What was I even thinking?

I should go back to reading strategies of war.

He remained unmoved and I remembered Meredith wishing for simplicity—wishing for the cookie-cutter version of a fairytale and I couldn't help but realize there was more truth in those stories than I allowed them to have. Here, I sit within the folds of that book—the story everyone expects of the princess—to say yes, to marry him, to live happily ever after, to smile and wave to the people, to wear pretty dresses and play the part of kissing babies and sitting on an uncomfortable chair.

When I was little, the vision seemed so simple—a right, a given in my world.

I was sick of looking in the mirror every day and seeing more of the person who wears a crown that amounts to nothing. I would become the figure that wears the pretty jewels but doesn't embrace the vitality that this luxury allows. Here I was, tantrum-throwing and tired of being a sitting duck in the 'happily ever after'—just another character that surrenders to what the storybook tolerates.

The longer I stayed silent, the longer I fought with myself. I wanted purpose—but in what? I could sit here and complain about the possibilities, but in all reality, what sort of purpose could I truly have? I felt like I just came to the dead ends that tell me to look pretty and have a pristine mouth.

"Have you ever wanted to be anything else?" I spoke out loud.

He didn't answer, but just looked at me with the initial expression of confusion. It made me feel stupid to ask him that. Who would ask the future King of Archone to dream another dream? Live another life? He had everything in the world at his fingertips—what other satisfaction would life grant him?

It seemed like an hour before he answered, "I don't know." I could see the distant look in his eye, as he placed his gaze far away on a wall.

"You had to have wanted to be something else," I wondered, a part of me wishing that he understood in some way, "You weren't always the future king. At one time, you were just Kol."

The light that hit his eyes when he heard 'Kol' was undeniable, but his eyes still remained out of reach.

"I guess I haven't had the chance to think about what I wanted to be. I haven't had much of a choice lately," He whispered and looked at me, clearing his throat, "What about you?"

I figured he would turn it around on me.

"Not a Princess, of course, but you already know that," I stated and he didn't hide his smile. I folded my hands over my stomach, fixing my head in a more comfortable position on my pillow. When I was little, I wanted to be a warrior—until I realized what violence came with it, how it tore people to bits and made monsters of man. After that, a nomadic group went through Irklian, and I dared to be a gypsy of sorts—admiring the way they picked up and moved—continuous changelings in determined boundaries around them.

I suppose I wanted to be so many things throughout my lifetime and dreamt other dreams till I grew out of them in spite of it all. Hoped and wished for things that were out of reach just because I pretended like I could or someone told me 'no'—but, in all reality, I was just trying to catch happy and make it my home.