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Grace

Grace carelessly tossed the now empty bottle of wine off the balcony, her taste buds tingling with disgust as the remaining taste of the dry white wine. Grace didn't like alcohol much, and she knew that her grandfather would disapprove if he could see her now.

Perhaps that's why she did it.

No, Grace knew the real reason, because it was already starting. Her senses were starting to fade, her vision blurring in and out of focus whenever she moved. Her muscles felt weaker, and overall she felt tired. But that was hardly the most important and gratifying thing. The pain that had haunted Grace for the past year, stalked her in her nightmares and shadowed over her in her reality. The sheer agony that Grace tried and failed to numb permanently. No matter what she tried - the alcohol, the drugs that she'd tried once and never used again, the cigarettes, the parties - none of it worked for long. Because the next morning was always the same - she woke up in exactly the same situation as she had been before, the pain was still there, the grief and the guilt. And to top it all off, she usually had a terrible hangover too.

Grace was 17, her 18th birthday being next month. Legally, she wasn't allowed to drink or smoke or do any of the things she did until then, but Grace cared little for her grandfather's rules, and enjoyed breaking them. Being the Princess had to have some benefits.

The bottle smashed on the patio below, the light in the kitchen switching on as Solange, Grace's housekeeper, heard the commotion and paused her re-run of The Vampire Diaries to see what the commotion was. Grace watched boredly as the middle-aged woman came outside already armed with a broom and dustpan, and bent down to scoop up the shards of broken glass. A guilty pang shot from Grace, but she ignored it.

Grace was used to feeling guilt by now.

Ever since her family were murdered last year, Grace had lived on her own, moving into the large townhouse that was supposed to be a gift for her upcoming 18th birthday. She'd dismissed most of her staff, only allowing Solange and her two bodyguards Allas and Pete to stay. She'd known the three of them since she was a baby, knew about their lives and their families. Even in her darkest moments, she'd been unable to fire her closest companions.

Life had been fairly easy for Grace, up until last Spring of course. She was born into one of the richest and most powerful families in the world, had a loving set of parents that adored her and gave her everything she could ever desire, and a caring older brother that had always protected her. She'd been sheltered too - only ever having to attend official events or balls when it was absolutely vital, and remaining in the calm serenity of her parent's estate in Diet for most of the year, where she was free to run around the gardens and act as if she were a normal little girl without the weight of the world on her shoulders. Grace had been taught by the best teachers money could buy - she spoke French, German, Spanish, Latin and Greek fluently, as well as a little Chinese. She could sing and dance, play nearly any musical instrument you threw at her, and still found time to roll around in the mud with Alexandre and the children of the staff at Diet. There, she was simply Grace DeCapio, there was never any mention of her being a Princess, and nobody ever thought about the fact that one day, kind, charming Alexandre would be King.

Grace had lost contact with all of her old friends the moment that she moved to her house in Yashon following her family's deaths. Her grandfather had tried to make her move into the palace with him, but Grace could hardly imagine anything worse that living constantly under the scrutinizing eye of Syllonia's monarch, having him watch her every move and study how she grieved.

Grace had never really got on with her grandfather. It wasn't that they disliked each other - the King loved his granddaughter very much and deep down, Grace probably cared for him too. It all came down to the simple fact that they were far too different. Grace was as fiery as her auburn hair, with a short temper and sharp tongue that had always been reprimanded by the King. She loved to laugh and was utterly carefree - she was the second child, and a girl too. There had never been any thought that Grace would inherit the throne, and so nobody had ever paid much attention to how she acted. Except of course for the King. Contrastingly, King Alexandre was a cold man that had forgotten what it was to be happy and to have a child's unrelenting energy. He'd steered Syllonia through many troubles - he loved that country more than anything else - and he would not see his reckless granddaughter drive it to wreck and ruin. He'd known ever since Grace was a little girl that although she was intelligent, charismatic and pretty, she'd only bring harm to Syllonia if she didn't learn how to act more like a Queen and less like a foolish teenager.

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