WRONG BRIDE, WRONG GROOM: DESTINED FATE

PRINCESS THIA'S POV I woke up to the sky painted in soft shades of pink and gold, making the palace shine brightly around me. The soft and bright sunlight filtering through my room's delicate curtains was why I woke up. It was a new day in the Lavera Kingdom, brimming with beauty and grace. "Zia!" I called out, my voice carrying through the chambers. In a flurry of motion, Zia entered, a mix of adoration and exasperation dancing in her eyes. "Good morning, Your Royal Highness." I rolled my eyes, a playful smile playing on my lips. "Zia, how many times do I have to tell you? Just Thia will do." She sighed, a hint of reluctance softening her features. "But, Your Royal Highness, you deserve—" "Respect, titles, the whole nine yards?" I finished for her, shaking my head. "I'll pass, thanks." Zia's lips twitched and a silent battle waged behind her eyes. "You should embrace your lineage, Your Royal Highness. You have royal blood running through your veins and you are practically a mirror image of Princess Tyra." I shrugged, unfazed by the comparison. "Let Tyra have her spotlight. I'm quite content in the shadows." Zia's brows furrowed, torn between scolding me and conceding defeat. "You deserve more than that, Your Royal Highness. Your beauty, your wit, your charm—" "—are just happy accidents," I interrupted with a grin, slipping out of bed to start the day. "But let's not dwell on what could've been. The shadows suit me just fine. You should know that by now. You and I have been together for more than ten years." Zia nodded, a fond smile softening her features. "Indeed, Your Royal Highness. But forgive me if I still hope for more for you." I chuckled, the sound echoing lightly in the room. "You're a persistent one, Zia and I wouldn't have it any other way. But you know me well enough to know that I've never been one for grandeur. Are we doing anything meaningful today?" As Zia outlined the day's schedule, my thoughts drifted to my elder sister, Princess Tyra. From the moment she was born, Tyra had been pampered and groomed for royalty. Despite sharing the same father, Tyra and I couldn't have been more different. Tyra had always been the epitome of royal entitlement, her every whim indulged and her every demand met with obsequious deference. From a young age, Tyra had made it clear where I stood in her eyes—beneath her. I have never resented her for it because her disdain for me was no secret. She had always seen herself as above everyone else and I wasn't going to be spared from all of that. No amount of shared blood or physical resemblance could bridge the chasm she had created between us. Even as children, she had rebuffed my attempts at sisterly affection, her disdain palpable in every glance, every word. In her eyes, I was nothing more than a reminder of our father's infidelity, a blemish on her perfect image. It wasn't jealousy that stirred within me but rather a sense of resignation. Tyra's arrogance was as much a part of her as my humility was of me. And though we may share blood, I refused to let her bitterness darken my spirit. And as much as Zia wished for me to embrace my royal lineage, I was content with the simplicity of being just Thia. Being the princess of Lavera came with a lot of expectations and responsibilities. As Zia busied herself with preparing what I would be wearing for the day, I couldn't help but dwell on the constraints of my royal status. While some may envy the privileges that come with being a princess, few understand the weight of the crown and the sacrifices it demands. Love, a luxury afforded to many, remained an elusive dream for me. Marriages in royalty were alliances, strategic moves to secure power and strengthen bonds between kingdoms. The notion of marrying for love seemed like a distant fantasy, one I could only imagine in the quiet corners of my mind. A knock echoed through the chamber, interrupting my thoughts. Zia glanced towards the door, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Who could that be at this hour?" she murmured to herself, before moving to answer the door. Moments later, she returned, a perplexed expression on her face. "Your Royal Highness, you've been summoned to join the royal family for breakfast." My heart sank at the unexpected invitation. Joining the royal family for breakfast was not something I had ever desired, nor was it a privilege I sought. In fact, the mere thought of being in the company of my father and stepmother filled me with a sense of dread. "The Queen Consort, Her Royal Majesty, requested that you wear something presentable," Zia continued, her tone tinged with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Of course she would be happy. "Not the usual attire you wear for visiting the orphanages." I forced a smile, masking my true feelings beneath a facade of compliance. "Of course, Zia. Thank you for informing me." Zia quickly changed the attire I was going to wear earlier to something the queen would approve of for breakfast, I couldn't shake the sense of unease that gnawed at my insides. Why would the Queen Consort suddenly request my presence at the breakfast table? What ulterior motives lay behind this sudden change in routine? The walk to the royal dining hall felt like a march towards my own execution, each step weighed down by the heavy burden of expectation. I dreaded the scrutiny of my family, the disapproving glances and the thinly veiled contempt that always seemed to accompany my presence. As I entered the dining hall, the opulence of the surroundings only served to heighten my discomfort. The table gleamed with silverware and fine china, a stark reminder of the stark divide between my world and theirs. My father sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable as he observed my approach. "Ah, Thia," he greeted me with a nod, his tone devoid of warmth. "So glad you could join us." Beside him, Queen Althea offered me a forced smile, her eyes betraying a hint of disdain. "Please, take a seat." I complied, my movements stiff and awkward as I settled into the chair beside my father. "Thank you Father, Mother." Around the table, the rest of the royal family regarded me with thinly veiled contempt, their disdain hanging heavy in the air. As the meal commenced, I struggled to maintain my composure, my appetite all but gone in the face of the suffocating tension that permeated the room. Once the meal finally drew to a close, Queen Althea cleared her throat, her gaze lingering on me with a mixture of disdain and resolve. "Thia," she began, her voice cold and distant, "I called you here because there is a matter of utmost importance that we must discuss." My stomach churned at the ominous tone of her words, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. "What is it, Your Royal Majesty?" I forced myself to ask, though I already dreaded the answer. The queen's lips curled into a cruel smile, her eyes gleaming with malice. "I have arranged for you to marry Lord Maelstrom, the Earl of Quire," she announced, her voice dripping with contempt. "He may not be of royal blood, but he is a suitable match for someone of your... stature." A wave of shock and disbelief washed over me at her words, the reality of my situation hitting me like a ton of bricks. I had always known that my stepmother harboured resentment towards me, but I had never imagined that she would stoop so low as to condemn me to a loveless marriage with a man I barely knew. "And what of my feelings in this matter?" I demanded, my voice trembling with anger and frustration. "Am I to be treated as nothing more than a pawn in your political games?" The queen's gaze hardened, her contempt undisguised. "This is hardly a political game. You will marry Lord Maelstrom, and you will do so without complaint," she declared, her tone final. "It is your duty as a member of the royal family, and you will obey." "And what of my sister's marriage?" I interjected, my voice trembling with anger and frustration. "She is already twenty years old. Why is she not the one getting married?" The queen hesitated for a moment before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have arranged for Tyra to marry a crown prince, though I cannot disclose his identity at this time. Rest assured, he comes from a reputable lineage and will make a suitable match for our dear Tyra." A bitter taste filled my mouth as I absorbed her words, the unfairness of it all weighing heavily on my shoulders. While Tyra was to be wed to a crown prince, a match befitting her status as a princess, I was to be married off to an Earl of Quire, Lord Maelstrom. It was clear to me that despite the queen's words about not being a cruel stepmother, she was one. Even though I was angry because I was going to be wed to a man I knew nothing about or had ever met, what angered me the most was that the queen was still drawing lines between my sister and I. "I see," I said as I tried to force a smile. The queen's gaze hardened, a flash of irritation crossing her features before she composed herself once more. "My dear Thia, you must understand that as members of the royal family, we all have certain duties and responsibilities to uphold. Lord Maelstrom is a fine match for you, and I have no doubt that you will grow to appreciate his many virtues." Despite the queen's attempts to justify her actions, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that coursed through my veins. My heart hammered in my chest as I struggled to maintain my composure, a tempest of emotions raging beneath the surface. "And what of my sister's feelings in this matter?" I pressed, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. "Does she share your enthusiasm for this arranged marriage?" Queen Althea's expression hardened, her disdain palpable in every word. "My daughter understands her responsibilities as a member of the royal family," she replied curtly, her tone brooking no argument. "She will marry according to my wishes, just as you will." The bitterness of her words cut through me like a knife, a stark reminder of the gulf that separated me from my family. "And what of my wishes?" I demanded, my voice shaking with anger and frustration. "Am I to be denied any say in my own future?" The queen's gaze hardened, her eyes flashing with barely concealed contempt. "If I wasn't clear earlier, your wishes are of no consequence, Thia," she declared, her tone icy. Her words hung heavy in the air, a cruel reminder of the powerlessness that defined my existence. I was trapped in a world where others dictated my fate and all I could do was resign myself to the inevitable. As I turned to leave the dining hall, a pang of betrayal twisted in my chest as I glanced back at my father, who sat comfortably, seemingly unaffected by the conversation that had just unfolded. His eyes were fixed on his plate, his expression unreadable, as if he were oblivious to the turmoil that churned within me. At that moment, the realization struck me like a bolt of lightning — my own father, the king of Lavera, had abandoned me to the whims of my cruel stepmother just like he's always done. His silence spoke volumes, a damning indictment of his complicity in the decision to marry me off to a man I only knew by name. A surge of anger rose within me, threatening to consume me whole. How could he sit there, indifferent, while his own daughters were condemned to a loveless marriage?