ʙᴏʀɴ ᴀꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ • 𝐬𝐢𝐡𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜

i. duties

"You must perform your duty, my child," Her father's all knowing noble voice rung out in her ears, leaving her all the more frustrated. As her dear friend, Princess Aethelflead is to be wed in a matter of days, her father had taken it upon himself to find her a 'suitable' match. Well aware that her fathers efforts are simply all in fear, fear of what might happen to her when he passes. Cordelia has overheard her father's conversations with King Alfred, where her father pleads to have her signed as the Lady of their lands.

"I will father, but let me approve of the man! Let me have a say, please," Cordelia pleaded with her life. As a child she'd always hoped that she'd wed out of love, a little girls dream. A dream that seemed further and further from her grasp.

Lord Odda said nothing more as he exited the halls to stand by their Kings side. Their family had offered all their support to Alfred's line. Raised alongside the King's daughter, she'd watched as her father stuck a knife in her traitorous brothers chest, they've made sacrifices for the King's family. They've been at their beck and call, this time it was Cordelia's turn to seek help.

In her chambers the Princess Aethelflead welcomed her dearest childhood friend. The ladies sat on her bed, with Cordelia resting her head on the Princess' leg. They often spoke about marriage and matrimony, more specifically of love. Looking back at it, it had been foolish dreams of little girls. The same little girls that dreamt of Princes rescuing them and of living in castles. Much of their many dreams, the one of Princes rescuing them had been the first to be discarded. When the King had ordered not just the Princess but the Lady Cordelia as well to be trained in sword craft, they'd been educated about many things. That Princes will often not be there to rescue them. That same day, they had also been taught ways to take their own lives.

"Do you think he'll be gentle," Lady Aethelflead asked dreamily, her friend had always sought the best in people. Cordelia had not been fond of her at first when she was brought to court, finding her rather shallow and air headed. Cordelia mostly preferred her brother, Edward- granted she had admired him and had fancied him a while. Though, those dreams were also crushed when she realized that she herself couldn't possibly be worthy of the future king.

"We can only hope Lady," Words were difficult for her in this time, "My father, he..."
Deep down she knew that her friend would only offer little consolation, that she'd begin to preach about their royal duties. Nevertheless, she was her only friend. "He wishes to marry me off, to some noble Lord."

Cordelia sat up, fidgeting with her hands. As a woman in Wessex and her father owning substantial land and influence, many men- partly bad men would be wanting to claim her.

"Well you cannot marry," A response that she did not expect, "At least not before me."
The light and airiness of the Princess' reply reminded her as to why she was friends with her in the first place. The lady had been the happiness of Wessex. A sigh of relief and laughter bubbled at her throat, reminding her of their youth, in that moment they were little girls again. Giggling at the foolish men in court.

"I will speak to my father, if we cannot delay your engagement to a noble man, you have my word that it shall be a man of our choosing."

When the day came of Aethelflead's wedding, she had been there by her side, as she always had been. There was no doubt that the princess made a beautiful bride, though she could see the whisperings of her father and the Lord King. Cordelia only prayed that they did not speak of her future suitor. Amidst the crowd was the man that she'd looked up to since childhood.