Chapter Text
Uzi woke up slowly, squinting at the ceiling like it had personally offended her.
A knock came from the door.
“Your Royal Highness, you must wake up. Your father requests to see you,” a woman’s voice called politely.
Uzi groaned into her pillow. Fantastic. Consciousness. My favourite part of the day.
“I’m awake,” she mumbled, very much not awake.
She dragged herself out of bed and shuffled to her closet, pulling out a light purple dress. It fell just below her knees, tied with a thin white belt. She stared at it for a second.
Wow. Thrilling. Screams ‘excited to be alive.’
She got dressed, pulled on socks and shoes, brushed her hair into a half-up, half-down style, tying a small bow at the back. Brushed her teeth. Stared at herself in the mirror.
Yep. That’s a princess. Looks calm. Looks normal. Definitely not someone about to have their life ruined before breakfast.
She left her room, closing the door behind her.
“Good morning, Princess,” the young butler said, bowing way too formally for this hour of the day.
Uzi squinted at him. “Thanks, Thad. But don’t call me that. You’re my best friend unfortunately, not my employee.”
“I know,” he said, straightening up again. “I just do it because it annoys you.”
Uzi sighed dramatically. “Wow. Betrayed by my own best friend before breakfast. Incredible. I haven’t even had time to be in a bad mood yet and you’re already helping.”
She crossed her arms. “You could at least pretend to be supportive. Like, ‘Good morning, Uzi, you’re doing amazing, sorry your life is a disaster.’ Is that too much to ask?”
Thad smiled. “You’re doing amazing.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That was very unconvincing.”
“I’m a butler, not an actor.”
“Same outfit, different job,” Uzi muttered. “You still Look terrible in that uniform, has anyone ever told you that”
“Yes,” Thad replied cheerfully. “You and Lizzy. Frequently. Loudly. With hand gestures. But you should really get going.”
“Probably, but I was thinking—”
“No buts,” he cut in quickly. “If you’re late, your parents will kill me. And I would like to continue living’ thank you very much.”
Uzi tilted her head. “Wow. So dramatic. They wouldn’t kill you. They’d just stare at you like you personally ruined the kingdom….. Which is honestly worse.”
Thad winced. “Exactly. Please go.”
Uzi started walking past him, then paused. “You know, for someone dressed like a fancy lamp, you’re very bossy.”
“And for someone who just woke up, you’re very talkative.”
She rolled her eyes. “I talk more when I’m stressed. It’s a survival skill. Like yelling, but socially acceptable.”
“Go survive in the living room,” he said, gesturing down the hall.
“Whatever,” Uzi muttered, walking away. Then she called back over her shoulder, “If I don’t come back, tell Lizzy I died doing what I hated.”
Thad shook his head. “Walking to a meeting?”
“Yes”
I love how everyone in this palace is afraid of my parents. Except me. I’m just mildly terrified.
After a short walk, she reached the living room. Her mother and father were sitting on the couch like this was going to be a calm, casual chat.
Her father tapped the chair in front of them. Uzi sat.
“So,” he began carefully, “your eighteenth birthday is coming up, and… you know the rule.”
Oh no. The Rule voice. I hate the Rule voice.
He slid a folder across the table.
Uzi picked it up and flipped through it lazily. Page after page of perfectly posed boys with perfect titles and perfect smiles.
She closed it.
“So you want me to choose one of these people to be my husband?” she asked, glancing between them and the folder.
“Yes, Uzi,” her mother said gently. “You know the rule.”
Yes. The rule. The magical, ancient, life-ruining rule no one ever explains.
“Okay. I’ll look over them,” Uzi said, forcing a small smile that felt like it belonged on someone else’s face.
She grabbed the folder and went back to her room.
The second the door shut behind her, the smile vanished.
She leaned against the door and stared down at the folder.
“Pick a husband,” she muttered. “Like I’m choosing a dress.”
She walked to her bed and sat down, opening the folder again—this time slower.
Neatly organized profiles. Portraits. Titles. Alliances. Accomplishments.
Brave. Loyal. Wealthy. Perfect.
She flipped pages faster.
None of them felt real.
None of them felt like a person.
Uzi dropped the folder beside her and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
Eighteen is supposed to mean freedom. Not… this.
Uzi dropped the folder beside her and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling like it had personally caused this problem.
A knock came at the door.
“Go away,” she said flatly.
The door opened anyway.
“Wow,” Thad said as he stepped in. “That’s how you greet your favourite butler?”
Uzi turned her head slowly. “If my favourite butler comes attached to a folder full of strangers I’m apparently supposed to marry, then yes.”
Thad shut the door and sat on the floor near her bed, leaning back against it. “So… they told you.”
She nodded once. “Eighteen years old. Time to pick a husband. Because nothing says ‘happy birthday’ like lifelong commitment to someone whose personality is listed in bullet points.”
Thad glanced at the folder. “You looked at them?”
“I speed-ran it,” Uzi said. “Page one: perfect. Page two: perfect. Page three: suspiciously perfect. It’s like they were all grown in the same royal laboratory.”
He laughed quietly. “They’re probably nervous too, you know.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Uzi said, sitting up. “Somewhere out there is a guy going, ‘Wow, I can’t wait to marry a princess I’ve never met because of ancient paperwork.’ Romantic. Truly.”
Thad tilted his head. “Do you hate all of them already?”
“I don’t hate them,” she said. “I don’t know them. That’s worse. You can’t even be mad at someone when they’re just… a picture with a résumé.”
She hugged her knees to her chest. “They all sound the same. Brave. Loyal. Skilled. Wealthy. I want to know if one of them snores. Or trips over their own feet. Or laughs weird. Something human.”
Thad smiled. “You want flaws?”
“I want real,” Uzi corrected. “This feels like picking a new cabinet, not a person.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to decide right now.”
“I kind of do,” she muttered. “That’s the problem. The rule isn’t exactly flexible. It’s more like… ‘smile and obey or disappoint several centuries of dead people.’”
Thad winced. “When you say it like that, it sounds worse.”
“It is worse,” she said. “I just say it with sarcasm so I don’t start screaming.”
He studied her. “You’re scared.”
Uzi blinked. “Excuse me? I am dramatically inconvenienced. Very different emotion.”
Thad raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”
She sighed and looked away. “I just wanted one thing to be my choice. One. Not planned. Not arranged. Not written in some ancient rulebook nobody bothered to explain.”
Thad nodded slowly. “Then make it your choice.”
She looked at him. “What?”
“Don’t pick the ‘best’ one,” he said. “Don’t pick the one your parents obviously like. Don’t pick based on titles or alliances. Pick because you want to.”
Uzi stared at him for a long moment.
Her expression changed slightly. Not panicked. Not sad.
Thoughtful.
“…That sounds dangerous,” she said quietly.
Thad grinned. “You love dangerous.”
A small, real smile appeared on her face.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I kind of do.”
He stood up, brushing off his uniform. “Just… don’t rush it. And don’t let them make you feel like you’re picking from a shelf.”
Uzi glanced at the folder again.
“I won’t,” she said. Then, after a beat: “I might actually surprise everyone.”
Thad paused at the door. “I don’t know if I should be excited or worried.”
“Both,” Uzi replied.
He laughed softly and stepped out, leaving her alone with the folder.