Wanderlust • Peter Pan

one

CHAPTER ONE

"You're weak."

The words stung my eyes allowing tears to brim just before my tear ducts. The cold air that nipped my cheeks woke me up from my sorry daze, briefly allowing me to glance at the figure in front of me.

My throat was dry and my lips numb but still I refused not to let that stop me. "No, I'm not." The words were mumbled in a hoarse whisper.

Dark eyes lit up with humor in front of me and I could see that my pathetic attempt at defending myself had only amused them.

"I ought to have you sweeping the floors, not waiting around for a throne." Words that were strung together viciously hurt me more than I ever thought possible.

"Leave," My whisper wasn't firm enough so I had to resort to a hand gesture and raising my voice. "now!"

The dark eyes of my father followed my wet eyes that were surely red from irritation as he bowed. His retreat meant I could finally let my legs collapse underneath me and cry into my thin arms.

My head rested on the chest just beside my bed and my feet were curled underneath me for comfort. Tears slipped down my cheek as I swallowed the cold hard truth.

I wasn't fit for running a country. Instead of listening to politics which I found ever so boring, I cared for the friction between pen and paper. Instead of socializing with the elite, I hid away in my personal library.

But my father had just been shouting at me for something else.

My younger sister Lucille, Lu by nickname, was more appropriate to be the next heir than I was. She was a lady, engaged to marry and had quite the ladder of social connections.

According to my father, a woman was to be seen as weak without a man supporting her. According to my father, I had spent too much time wondering about my eyes than I had looking at the people in front of them.

All my life I had tried to figure out what was wrong with me. Where others saw lavish colours and beautiful lagoons that sparkled in the sunset, I saw black and white.

Black, white and grey were all too familiar for me. The three were practically the same for everything I saw except for a jewel I had found by the ocean once. It wasn't in colour but my mother had told me of its beautiful dark red hues. Looking at that jewel was the only time I saw a darker grey.

A doctor conjured a fancy name for my condition to make himself seem superior when he discussed it; he called it achromatopsia, but I myself, preferred to call it Colour Blind.

My maid, Elia, took joy in describing colours to me. Sometimes she'd take me out for walks around the gardens and other times we'd sit in my room and she'd point out every beautiful tone and shade to my virgin eyes.

My eyes found the bell ringer that hung from my ceiling to summon Elia or any of the help. I deciphered bothering Elia but I needed some fresh air.

I heard scampering from the stairs as soon as I rung the bell, Elia was a very dedicated woman who was eager to assist my needs.

A few light taps on my grand chamber doors let me know that Elia was outside. "Princess, you called?"

"Come in please, Elia." I knew it would be out of place for me to do so, so I didn't open the doors for her and let her make her own way in.