Being third in line to the Illyrian throne, Princess Emilia had her life planned out for her the moment she was born a spare. Fate is what some people would call it, but to Emilia she never believed in fate, that is until she met Prince Harry at the...
Promise. It's a big word. It either makes something or it breaks everything.
We live in a world built on them, but they often crumble into empty promises leaving us broken and falling further into the depths of untrust. Sometimes people toss us a rope to get out of the depths, but it is often frayed and breaking as the trust slowly dissipates.
Rarely, nowadays do people ever intend to keep them. They are nothing but sweet little lies that aim to provide nothing but hurt.
I never did trust promises as they so often fell short of their intention.
But, my father proved me wrong.
He kept his promise in the end.
He kept it when it counted the most to me.
He kept the promise.
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The princess tightened the harness around Bandit, her tall black quarter horse that she had been training with for a few years now. She gave the lead a light tug as Bandit began to walk along beside her for a cool down walk after a long training session. Emilia walked slowly beside the tall beauty, leading it around towards the field in a light walk.
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It had been nearly a week since she had said goodbye to her boyfriend, Prince Harry, at the end of his tour of Illyria. Her mind kept drifting back to that private goodbye they shared in the airport lounge before publicly wishing the prince a farewell end of his tour to Illyria.
She closed her eyes to remember the feeling, the feeling of his arms securely around her while he kissed her forehead with those soft lips.
Flashback
"I cannot believe that you are leaving today..." Emilia bowed her head, averting her gaze away from the prince's mesmerizing deep blue eyes that were lingering on her own. She did not want to look away from Harry. It was those same deep blue eyes that kept her up late at night, wishing the night away until the morning came so she could gaze up into them once again.
"Well, you could always come with me." Harry's voice was low and endearing with a hint of humour that lightened the mood. He stepped forward and traced his finger down the side of her arm until he reached her hand and grasped it tightly.
The couple were at the airport in the capital of Illyria, spending a private moment alone that Harry had arranged in a private lounge in the airport. It was their chance to say a proper goodbye, before they would flip the switch and put on a display for the world to see Princess Emilia bid farewell to the English prince, ending his tour of her country. No such touch as the ones they had been giving each other would be allowed. Hence, their private moment right now.
