❝ In a world tainted by decadent rulers, the Princess must step back to her kingdom for a revamp of the rules, claiming her rightful place on the throne ❞
Rules are made to be broken was the only rule Lysandra ever abided by. When that very principl...
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"You cannot just barge into the palace whilst they are in a mid-afternoon meeting, Lysandra!" Maevis urged as the swift-footed rebel moved across the closet, looking for a pair of comfortable clothes.
"Do you guys not own one single pair of normal clothing?" Lysandra exclaimed, her attention never catered towards the raven-haired bellator's warnings.
"What you are wearing right now is pretty basic," Seraphine said with a laugh, stepping into the room and letting her hair out of the knot.
Lysandra looked down towards the fancy capri trousers, almost irritating the skin on her legs and the peach blouse that hung limply over her bony frame. She gaped at the two girls born and brought up as nothing less than royalty as they somewhat vainly tried to convince Lysandra what was expected of her, now that she was a princess who would take over the throne someday.
"Fine," she agreed, settling on a pair of black leggings and a white top with an asymmetrical neckline. "This will have to do."
Seraphine stifled a laugh as Maevis scoffed, kicking the door of the closet in mock frustration. Lysandra shrugged as she unwrapped the towel wrapped around her freshly washed hair and let it fall to her feet.
"Oh, for the love of Zeus! You are going to give everyone a heart stroke, you mad woman— "
"Shut up, Mae. She looks hot," Seraphine said, a smirk gracing her tired face. Lysandra had grasped the fact that being a part of the royal family condemned them to look presentable and composed no matter the circumstances. The poor things need a goddamn breather, she declared. A frown turned her lips downwards as she thought about what people would have assumed of her behaviour even though she wasn't the one to abide by the rule book.
Lysandra Mikhael was the type of woman who ignored the existence of any rules whatsoever.
"Is it that horrible?" she mumbled, ruffling her hair and eyeing the girl with mauve toned eyes, through the long mirror.
Seraphine reassured Lysandra asking her not to bother too much about her grumbling pal and settled for complimenting her look for the next few minutes. Maevis grunted and glitched out of the closet deeming that she did not care about what the spoilt princess did. She was supposedly bitter and Lysandra could not imagine why. She wasn't too determined to find out either. Her plate was brimming with unsolved mysteries and too much of toxicity already.
"The King and Queen are about to have a pleasant surprise with their entitled daughter barging into a royal huddle," Lysandra murmured, clasping a theatrical looking choker around her slender neck.
"I bet," Seraphine laughed, shaking her head amusedly. "That rebellious nature of yours is a breath of fresh air amidst the suffocation of so many bylaws, really."
"Yo," came in a different voice, seeming distant. "What crawled up your ass, grumpy cat?"
"Consider yourself lucky I had orders from a certain someone to bring you back home intact. I would've long gotten rid of you and your earthen stench otherwise."
