UnFreedom (Yandere Prince x Oc)

Anika

The 1678th Annual Royal Banquet of Vermont was supposed to be the best day of my life.

Not because it was an occasion for normal citizens like me to meet the royal family. No, I hardly cared about their existence then.

It's because it was supposed to be my day off from the  futile routine of culinary arts and be a golden opportunity for me to read another chapter of my favourite book: Freedom by Anonymous.

The title seemed like an outcry for rebellion, but after a decade long debate carried out by the royal scholars, it was labelled to be a whimsical fantasy of a group of teens who desperately wanted to escape from reality.

Thus, the infamous ban on it was lifted and people were allowed to read the 'childish' ideas it encapsulated. However, it couldn't gain popularity among the masses due to the stigma attached to it.

It described the life of a boy named Jack who lived in a world where there were no kingdoms. Instead, there were 7 'continents'- huge landmasses.

His world didn't have magic like ours, a concept that my aunt claimed to be impossible. However to compensate for the magic, his people had developed their own version of magic called technology.

The best part about technology was that it appeared to be available to everyone, not just the royals. But it wasn't technology that caused me to become so obsessed with the book.

It was the idea of democracy and freedom- the two words that caused the book to be banned in the first place.

In the beginning, people thought that the book was an deliberate attempt to start a rebellion against the beloved monarchical system.

Some scholars argued that the book gave a dangerous definition of freedom. They believed that on lifting the ban on the book, it would result the reader to become brainwashed and delusional by its ideas.

Perhaps this was the only part they were right about, since this book predominantly shaped my personality.

Alas, I didn't get the chance to know if Jack was elected to be the 'Head boy' of his school or not for the next two weeks as Aunt Maurice forced me to prepare for the banquet night. 

A month ago, there was an announcement made at the public court by King Baxter of Vermont that it was mandatory for each household in the kingdom to be represented by atleast one maiden at the banquet as Prince Ezekiel had turned eighteen and could possibly choose a common girl as his fiance. 

When Josie, my cousin heard about the order from Uncle Benedict, she immediately started to prepare for the big day. After all, her childhood dream had come true. 

Everything was sorted.

Josephine had started on an 'all-potion diet' in order to have a  perfectly clear skin and luscious red hair on the day of banquet.

She handpicked the fabric of her dress from the most renowned cloth shop in our district, my aunt sold a part of her ancestral jewellery in exchange of attractive modern accessories and uncle took her daily to the expensive etiquette class near the palace. 

One may think that they were being too optimistically delusional, but to be fair Josie was the prettiest girl in our district. With her wave-like fiery hair, emerald eyes and million dollar smile, the ethereal beauty seemed to be the perfect match for the prince.

But some things are too good to be true.

Almost an hour before the grand event, Josie was nowhere to be found in her room. Only a note remained where in jagged handwriting was written how much she meant to the person who had eloped with her.
Obviously it wasn't consensual, but it was a common occurence in my world.

Witches and wizards were known to kidnap in infatuation. They had a bizzare position in our society. Royals protected them for their access to magic, but the public shunned them. So after remaining in isolation for centuries, this was their coping mechanism to find love outside their community- bewitch and marry. 
Things weren't going to be completely bad for Josie as, by marrying into their community would grant her magical powers, but she would lose her memory in the process.

Although she hadn't been the best cousin to me, she also hadn't been a bully. We had an apathetic relationship. Neither did she call me her sister nor did she remind me all the time that I was adopted even if I intentionally called Maurice and Benedict my aunt and uncle rather than mother and father. We weren't bosom friends, but she respected my wishes to be left alone in the public library than go to the fields, climb the Western Hills and shop in the local market. She was the perfect wife material- nurturer at heart and impeccable cook.

I was the black sheep of our family and she was the trophy child. So, her sudden departure forced my aunt to go against her true wishes and drag me to the banquet in her place.

I was put in Josie's dress even if it was barely breathable for me. I fought for the little rights which were still in my hand like my adamant refusal to wear the heavy set of jewellery and sticky makeup which smelt like bazillion roses on a coffin. I won my tiny battles but the fact remained that I was going to lose the bigger one.

My attempts to convince my aunt that it was pointless for me to go the banquet fell on deaf ears. I lacked the ladylike ways of Josie. I frequently got into arguments with my uncle about how we were being oppressed by the monarchy and it was wrong to not have a choice in ones own life.

It was wrong for the girls to only learn how to cook and do the basic menial works of the house while the boys were registered to be in the royal army or had shops.

It was wrong to not get the same opportunities as the rich to become a scholar or physician.

But my biggest complaint was that it was wrong for my life goals to be dictated by the wellbeing of the royals. I wanted to travel around the world- know about the different cultures, study the rich history our ancestors left behind, know the origin of the crippling monarchical system and find a friend who had the same interests as mine.

Someone who wouldn't call me delusional for wishing to be independent. Someone who would encourage my dreams to explore life. Someone who would take me far away from the grasps of royals.

But I knew very well in my heart that the certain someone would never come for me.

I shamelessly envied Josie when our carriage reached the palace. I wobbled on our way to the hall like a baby  as the tip of my heels threatened to pierce through my feet. When no one was looking, I removed the torture devices and threw them under one of the tables.

'Our ancestors walked barefoot' I tried to assure myself after commiting one of the most outrageous crimes in our world.

Women were supposed to have their feet covered in public. Bare feet were the symbol of indecency and a characteristic of a unfaithful lady. 'I do meet both the requirements' I scoffed to myself as my aunt glared daggers at me.

She lectured me to keep my big mouth shut throughout the night and not bring shame to our family with my eccentric hateful talk about the royals. I wasn't a child. I knew when to shut up and not have my head beheaded.

However, I made it a point to myself to appear as unattractive and crazy as possible in the eyes of Prince Ezekiel when he arrived in the hall. I wanted to get an instant rejection and be allowed to leave for the night.

But like I said before, some things are too good to be true.