Two enemies, in the royal family in the year 1789, arranged to be wedded on their 18 birthdays.
Along the journey, will be plots, jaw dropping scenes and even possessiveness.
Will they learn to love eachother?
I think not.
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I was awoken from my deep slumber by my maid, Estella.
She was a constant presence in my life, treating me with the care and affection of a mother.
The absence of my birth mother had left a void in my life, one that Estella had filled with her unwavering love and devotion.
I really loved her.
As I rose from my bed, the weight of the day's events already settling upon me like a heavy cloak.
"Good morning, miss," Estella greeted me, her voice warm and gentle as she opened the curtains to reveal the rolling hills and verdant valleys of our kingdom.
I gazed out at the breathtaking panorama, a sense of longing stirring within me as I took in the beauty of the land that was my home.
My room was a sanctuary, a haven of comfort and luxury that reflected my status as a princess of the realm.
The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes from the history of our royal family, each thread woven with care and precision.
My bed, considered a masterpiece by many in the kingdom, was draped in rich fabrics and adorned with carved wooden posts that supported a canopy of tapestry.
A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room and illuminating the fine antique furniture that filled the space.
A marble vanity stood in one corner, its surface littered with jars of perfumes and cosmetics, while a plush sitting area beckoned invitingly from the opposite end of the room.
Estella handed me my clothes for the day, her eyes filled with a mixture of warmth and concern.
"Your father would like to have breakfast with you at 10 o'clock, in the grand hall," she informed me before leaving the room to attend to her duties.
Alone once more, I turned my attention to preparing myself for the day ahead.
I brushed out my long black hair, allowing it to cascade in loose waves down my back, and took care to ensure that my appearance was flawless.
As I slipped into my dress, a deep wine-red silk creation that hugged my figure in all the right places, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of my consciousness.
The impending breakfast with my father weighed heavily on my mind, and the news he had to deliver filled me with a sense of foreboding.
