Chapter Text
The palace was ablaze with people all around, preparing for the royal ball to be held in honor of the young princess coming of age. Everywhere one looked, servants and guards and cooks and maids could be seen doing whatever it is they all do. Meanwhile, Princess Iris was in her room being prepared for the night.
So, this is it? This week, either my father or I will choose whom I shall lose my freedom to… as if I had any to lose in the first place. Princess Iris thought to herself as her handmaid arranged her attire for approval.
"Is this to your liking, Your Royal Highness?"
Iris looked upon the gorgeous gown set before her. It was a lilac silk dress, the silk imported from a far-off land. Fabric flowers and other ornamental designs popular in her kingdom were strewn tastefully across the bodice and skirt, making it look like an elegant, wearable bouquet. I suppose if I must choose a husband over these next few days, I can feel pretty doing it…
"Yes, thank you," Princess Iris responded with a nod.
As the ball drew closer, Iris recalled the months following up to this news.
"Your Royal Highness, His Majesty King Bram requests to speak with you," one of the servants said. The author had spent over three days on this one line, unsure of how to respond to such a request. Princess Iris recoiled slightly at the mention of her father, but obeyed. After a journey through the hallways that the author refuses to elaborate on, Princess Iris found herself in King Bram's office.
"You called for me, Father?" Princess Iris asked 2 weeks later. King Bram stood stoically in front of the window in his office, the light casting his shadow over his daughter. The towering figure turned to face her, expression unfeeling.
"I trust you won't cause any problems this weekend?" He asked.
"Define problems," Iris responded curtly. King Bram groaned as he turned away from her.
"You will choose a husband whether you feel like it or not. It's time you grow up and stop living in a fantasy land where all your insipid dreams magically come true. Life is cruel, so you must be more cruel. A dainty little princess is nothing without her king. Do not forget that, child."
"I'm hardly a dainty little princess," Iris retorted.
"Climbing the odd tree and wearing trousers when riding does not make you any more like a prince," King Bram said.
"I'm not trying to be; I'm just not some helpless damsel in distress!" Iris corrected.
"Don't you talk back to me, young lady!" King Bram snapped, appearing only inches from Iris's face in an instant.
"None of these shenanigans, no slouching, no burping, no talking back, no talking at all, actually, and certainly no rolling your eyes! You're no prince, but you're certainly no princess either. At least act like royalty for one night, or I will make you pay for it! Have I made myself clear?" Iris stood obediently as she only nodded and gave a polite bow. Once she was permitted to exit the room, Iris went to the gardens to vent to the lilies.
"Does he honestly think he can control my entire life?! I'm sorry I'm not who you want me to be, but I didn't ask to be your daughter! I didn't ask for a life following the orders of a bunch of stuck-up, good-for-nothing, sorry excuses of-"
"That's quite a lot of improper words to describe nobility," Queen Orchid laughed lightly as she came up behind Iris.
"I uh… I am sorry, Mother; I spoke out of turn," Iris tried to save face. Orchid just smiled at her headstrong daughter and ran a hand through her hair.
"You did, but you are not all wrong. I know it is stifling, all the rules and regulations and ceremonial rituals, but it is a reality we must live with."
"What if I don't want this?" Iris pouted, starting to sit down on a stone before her mother gestured for her not to, so that her skirt did not get dirty.
"We do not always get what we want in life… but do not rule out this entire week. I have seen the guest list, and I do not think you will hate them all. Some of the suitors are your age! That is quite uncommon."
"So we're all doomed to be pawns for the good of the kingdom?" Iris sighed.
"Perhaps you can at least make the most of it. Try to have fun tonight. Do not worry about finding a husband just yet. You have a week after all. Being a woman alone in this world is harder than you think it will be," Orchid advised. Iris just slumped, then straightened her posture as a servant passed by, asking if they would like to come inside for tea. Princess Iris agreed to join her mother for tea before the ball.
As the night drew near, several coaches of royals of various ranks came in by the droves either to enjoy the first night of the ball or to court the Princess. One of the carriages was red and strong-looking, built more for battle than for nobility. The young Lord who came out of it looked only just old enough to be courting and trying his best to act like he wanted to be here. At least Princess Iris wasn't the only one not looking forward to tonight…
The next coach of interest was blue with many delicate embellishments of gold, crystals, and iron. The prince who descended from it moved with the grace and calm of a gentle river, standing tall but not imposing. He seemed to understand he was here to fulfill a duty, nothing more, nothing less.
Another coach came in, colored yellow and girded with various functional metal gadgets. The door opened without anyone touching it as the lanky Lord nearly tripped out of his carriage while writing something down in his journal. He cursed under his breath, low enough that no one heard him, as he begrudgingly put away the notebook to enter the palace.
The last of the colorful caravan to arrive was arguably the most elaborate of them all, an emerald green carriage girded in beautiful gold finishings, intricate wooden carvings, and nods to musical instruments or notes tastefully built into the design. A charming young prince with deep green eyes and the melodic voice of a clarinet thanked his footman as he waltzed into the palace along with the three other prospective suitors.
As all the suitors were brought before Princess Iris, she sighed at having one after another brought for her to consider. Then, the deep ruddy-haired Lord Rowan was introduced.
"Son of Duke Byron, House of Morpheus, Lord Rowan!" the crier announced.
"Wow, for a stupid princess, you're really pretty!" were the first words to come out of Lord Rowan's stupid mouth.
"I beg your finest pardon?!" Princess Iris nearly choked on nothing.
"Uh, I mean… shoot…"
Things are off to a great start…