To have and maybe hold

The rain had been falling all morning, steady and slow, as if it didn’t care that London was in a hurry. Outside her apartment window, the city looked soft and distant, its rooftops fading into the gray mist. Princess Star of Aurelia ran her fingers along the cold window, following the hazy shape of the palace waiting for her return. It had been nearly four years since she’d left—four years of work, study, and a beautiful kind of freedom and independence and while she was grateful for the experience, she could not wait to return home to family and duty; or could she? Her mother’s voice floated from the phone, gentle but certain. “It’s only a conversation, darling. Nothing is decided.” Star turned from the window, managing a soft smile. “That’s what you said about my internship at the embassy. I ended up staying three years.” The Queen, Safira chuckled, setting down her teacup. “And it was good for you. This will be, too. Her father, Harold, seated across from her mother, looked over his reading glasses. “Prince Ryan is a fine man. His parents speak highly of his sense of duty. We would never ask you to consider someone unworthy of your heart, Star. And you must admit—alliances like this are not built every day.” Alliances. The word carried centuries of weight, polished smooth by repetition. “I understand,” she said quietly. And she did. She understood better than anyone, the battle between duty and desire and she had been fortunate enough to have supportive parents who had let her fly and thrive up until this moment, rather than completely dictate a path for her or expect her to follow quietly, to society’s expectations of a Princess. The least she could do is at least consider it. “I’ve got to go now, Mama; I still have lots of packing to do. I love You both” “We love you too, Princess. See you soon” responded, Safira. “Love you baby”, said Harold. Star let herself sink into the sofa. The faint hum of rain filled the silence. She wasn’t opposed to marriage—not exactly. She simply didn’t like the idea of walking into an arranged one, with a stranger; it felt unnatural. She searched her phone for a picture of him, the mysterious Prince Ryan of Dalverra. There were hardly any pictures of him and the few that she could find mostly shows his sides and silhouettes: Until now, she thought she was the only royal who fought hard to stay under the radar. The tabloids called him a model royal, sculpted for duty—he was all about work and responsibilities, with a romantic history that was almost non-existent. Who is this guy? Star sighed. “Wonderful,” she murmured to no one. “A man allergic to love. What could possibly go wrong?” Her phone lit up, her mother’s name glowing across the screen like a quiet reminder.: Dinner at Dalverra Palace next week. Just to meet them. Keep an open mind, my love. She would. She owed them that much. ___________________________________ Meanwhile, within the grand halls of Dalverra Palace, Prince Ryan adjusted the cuff of his ceremonial jacket, ignoring the amused stares of his oldest friend, Adrian. “You look like a man headed to his execution,” Adrian said, lounging on the edge of the billiard table. Ryan gave a dry smile. “You’re not too far from the truth.” “So, it’s true then. The Aurelians are coming?” “Next week.” Ryan poured himself a drink, the amber swirling like a storm in glass. “My parents seem convinced that an alliance through marriage will ‘strengthen the future of both realms.’” He said it in a perfect imitation of his father’s voice “…and more importantly, they say, she is an absolute sweetheart and a proper lady”. Adrian laughed. “And you? What do you think of the princess?” “I don’t.” Ryan’s tone was flat. “She’s probably like the rest of them—spoilt, sheltered, obsessed with gowns and gossip. The type who’s never seen rain without a butler holding her umbrella.” “Charming,” Adrian said dryly. “I’m sure she’ll fall at your feet when she hears that.” Ryan smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not looking for her to fall at my feet. I just need to fulfill my obligations and keep my family’s line running.” Adrian studied him for a moment. “You really don’t believe in it anymore, do you?” “Love?” Ryan took a sip, letting the burn settle in his throat. “It’s an expensive illusion. I’ve already paid for it once and I paid with all that I had.” He turned toward the window, the palace gardens glistening beneath the same endless rain that fell across the sea. Somewhere out there, the princess his parents adored, was preparing to pack her life into suitcases—coming home to meet a man who no longer believed in fairytales. Ryan raised his glass slightly, as if to toast her: “Here’s to duty, Princess Star,” he murmured. “May we both play our parts well and may the force be with us.”