Uncommon

"Tradition can sue me."

Queen Estella frantically paced back and forth. She's done everything she can think of and more to find her son a wife. She's held balls, meetings over tea, public greetings, everything and then some! But none of them could hold her son's interest for more than a few minutes.

"They're all boring," Prince Ronan said, his head propped against his fist and staring out the window, bored out of his mind.

"You have to choose a wife at some point." Estella warned. "You need to produce an heir."

"Your mother's right you know," his father, King Augustine, agreed. "You can't inherit the throne without prospect-"

"-Of a wife," Ronan finished. "Yeah I know." His parents had been pressuring him for most of his life, but it's gotten even worse as he approached the age to legally inherit the throne.

"Then stop being so picky!" Estella shouted. As much as she loved her son and put up with most of his antics, this was getting ridiculous. 

"Why the hell would I waste my time on someone who isn't interesting?" he sighed. 

"Ronan, this isn't just for yourself. This is for the good of our kingdom."

"'Our' kingdom? Don't you mean, my kingdom? I'm the one who's going to be ruling."

"Not until you marry." his father said, flipping the page of his book and peering at his son over the rim of his glasses.

"Well why can't I just rule by myself? Couldn't I just adopt a child? Then I'd have no need for a wife-"

His mother cut him off. "Because  the royal heir must be related to the bloodline. It's your heritage, it's tradition!"

"Well then, tradition can sue me." Ronan got up and left the study, trying to get as much distance between him and his parents as possible.

Estella moved to go after him, but Augustine pulled her back. "Let the boy think. Have faith my dear, he'll come to his senses... he always does."

The garden was the only place Ronan felt at ease, the plants were quiet and offered him the greatest company. They didn't tell him where he had to be at different times of day, to straighten his posture or stop scowling. They never told him anything nor prompted him to say anything at all. He liked it that way.

Ronan was almost of age to inherit the throne. He couldn't seem to understand why his parents saw it as so important to force him into a marriage he didn't want. He liked girls well enough, but they all seemed the same to him. Ronan though over all the girls he's met in the past- some were deemed the most beautiful of their village, town, kingdom, some even the entire country. While others saw them as prized beings or etherial creatures, Ronan found them highly unappealing. All those girls had put their time into cultivating their beauty and spending nothing on furthering their education. None of them were curious about anything, the only things that seemed to interest any of them were mirrors and makeup. 

It sickened him. He hated vanity.

He wanted a challenge, someone who could stand up to him and battle his wits. He wanted to have an intellectual conversation, debates, and open ended questions that can rabbit trail late into the night. Not discussions of gossip, which color was better than another or who was more attractive in comparison. But that's all that seemed to ever exist only in his mind.

"It might as well be impossible." He ran his thumb over the leaves of ivy climbing the walls. Ronan found a grouping of new plants that had yet to be planted. "I haven't seen you before," He picked up one of the pots and looked at the label, the first part had been blackened and smudged out but the rest of it read, 'School for Girls.'

He's never heard of any school for girls. 'What kind of girls?' He wondered. "It's a school, so they better be smart."

"Mother, what's the School for Girls?" Ronan asked over dinner.

"Which one?" she questioned.

"I don't know, just... The School for Girls?"

Estella let out a breathless laugh. "Sweetheart, you're not making this easy. There's the Bishop Finishing School, the Aberdale School of Etiquette, Lady Delilah's Home for Girls. Really, take your pick." she listed. "I thought you'd like someone of beauty, I didn't know you preferred education. If that's the case, then I suggest-"

"You're forgetting one dear," Augustine said. "There's also the Willard School for Girls."

"That one." Ronan said. 

Estella made a noise of displeasure and disbelief. "Ronan, you can't be serious," she said. "That facility is the last place to find a future queen."

"Exactly," he said. "I don't want her to be what everyone expects."

"But darling, it's full of..." Her delicate features crumpled into one of disgust. "Nobodies. Surely you'd prefer someone who at least knows how to be a proper lady-"

"I've made up my mind." he said. "If you want me to choose a wife, then I'll choose from there."

His parents shared a look. They knew he already wasn't making this easy, but at least he's making a decision.

That evening in her chambers, Estella wrote out a letter to the Willard School for Girls to alert them of their coming and selecting of a bride. She managed to find out from a servant who happened to know something about the place. She said it was apparently normal for those of nobility to visit and select

'To whom it may concern,

In three days time, we would like to select one of your flourishing girls as the next queen. My son, Prince Ronan Domhnall, will be attending personally to make his selection. He is very particular and is in search of someone well-educated. With that in mind, we expect you to present your most beautiful, intelligent, and well-mannered students.

Sincerely,

Queen Estella Domhnall'

Estella tucked the letter into an envelope, then dripped wax onto it and pressed the little puddle with the royal seal.

"Marina, would you mind taking this down with the letters to be sent out tomorrow?" the queen called for her handmaiden.

"Yes your highness." The girl curtsied low, taking the letter with utmost care.

"Oh and one more thing,"

"Yes?"

Estella's lips stretched into a smile, one she hardly ever showed to the public. (Which happened to earn her the name 'The Stoic Queen') "When I am gone, be sure to be kind to whomever Ronan brings home."

"Of course your highness," the servant said, her head dipping slightly. "I wouldn't have it any other way."