Desired Fate

Independent Princess

•Elay•

Walking barefoot and with her arms outstretched, she traversed the narrow ledge atop the high wall. To her side, the wall descended at least ten feet, culminating in the lush greenery of the palace gardens. The white stones of the wall reflected flickers of green from the soft moss that had grown increasingly thick on the tiles over time.

Basking in the warmth of the bright spring sun, she felt its rays caress her face and envelop her body, thawing the chill of the past winter. After enduring the biting cold of the icy wind for so long, she was relieved that it had finally subsided, and the sun had been shining for several weeks. She extended her left hand towards the radiant light and peered out from the shadows into the gardens beyond.

In the distance, her sisters strolled together, linked arm in arm. Petra carried a wicker basket while Madeleine deftly snipped a flower here and there from the vibrant gardens with a sharp knife. Their sweet laughter echoed on the wind and brought a smile to her face.

She fixed her gaze back on the narrow ledge of the wall and carefully put her left foot in front of the right, keeping her balance with her arms.

“That could be a nasty fall,” a voice heard from nowhere. Startled by the unexpected noise, she nearly lost her balance, but managed to steady herself at the last moment. Slowly turning around, she spotted her uncle standing nearby, his elbows propped against the wall of the white marble first floor of the royal palace. His piercing gaze fixed upon his niece as he observed her closely.

“If I fall,” she corrected him. “And I'm not falling.”

“You didn't look very balanced, Elayzabeth.”

With pouting lips she glared at her uncle. “I was balanced, until you snuck up on me.”

He laughed and shrugged. “Snuck…snuck…” he repeated her word, shaking his head.

With a quarter turn, Elay faced her uncle and decided to show off. She leapt backwards, executed a somersault, and landed gracefully on the soft grass with bare feet. Challengingly, she gazed at her uncle, who responded by clapping his hands in a slow, deliberate manner.

“If you fall, you fall nimbly,” he said. She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

“What is your business, Uncle?” she asked him, wiggling her toes in the grass. “I bet you didn't visit me without a reason.”

“Isn't an uncle allowed to visit his nieces?”

Trevor nodded his chin in the direction of the two girls, who were walking carefree in the sun. Elay followed his gaze.

Petra's dark curls danced around her face while the sun reflected in Madeleine's straight, red hair.

“There are only three of us here,” she replied to her uncle. “There are seven more inside. Why don't you do yourself, and us, a favour by visiting them instead?”

She smiled unintentionally, brushed a lock of hair from her face, and turned away from her uncle.

There were ten of them at home. She herself was the eldest of the royal daughters. After her came the twins, Madeleine and Petra.

Despite numerous attempts, Elay's parents, who were the reigning king and queen of the Ubrena kingdom, were unable to produce a son, resulting in the birth of ten daughters. As the eldest of the siblings, Elay was set to inherit the kingdom, but only after she found a suitable match.

It was apparent that not everyone in the kingdom supported Elayzabeth's claim to the throne. Despite her lifelong efforts to prove her worthiness as the rightful heir, there was always a faction opposing her, consisting of those who rallied behind her uncle, Trevor Luminus, her father's younger brother.

Ever since she was ten years old, her parents had taken into account the possibility that they would not have a son. There was about one and a half to two years between each child, and with two sets of twins that meant that she already had seven sisters when she was just about ten years old. Her parents had her train daily, with sword and shield, bow and arrow and even physical training. They wanted her to be a good wife, to attract the right match.

But what was the right match? The match the kingdom wanted most was with the crown prince of the neighbouring country, the Lapis Kingdom. But the Lapis Kingdom was the kingdom of the wolf shifters; a special people who did not accept magic and certainly not a marriage match with someone who was not a shifter herself.

And no one in her family could shift; neither wolf, nor cat, nor any other animal. They, like most of the inhabitants of their kingdom, were magic users. But except for their magical abilities, they were human. Mortal and physically weak. Except for their speed and beauty, they were almost indistinguishable from normal humans. Most magic users were a bit taller, but she wasn't one of them. Even by human standards, she—and her sisters—were not the tallest.

“Have you decided on a theme for your upcoming twentieth birthday?” Elay's uncle abruptly changed the subject, his brisk strides carrying him down the palace slope until he was standing beside her in the garden. Hoping to shake him off, Elay quickened her own pace, but to her dismay, he matched her step for step, determined to keep up with her.

“Uncle, you and I both know my birthday party is of no interest to you. Why don't you ask me what question you really want to ask?”

From under her long eyelashes she gave a sweet smile, which her uncle returned with the same kindness. The man was ten years younger than her father and she and he were only fifteen years apart. Where she was almost twenty, he was in his mid-thirties. He had dark locks that showed no grey, and a big beard. His charm and handsomeness went a long way in convincing the people that he was the true heir to the throne and not one of the royal daughters.

“And what question is that?” asked her uncle wisely.

“Whether there will be a suitor waiting for me,” she said without hesitation. “Or maybe several. Rows, and rows of suitors.” She shrugged. “Wouldn't that be nice?”

“Even if twenty came,” her uncle replied. “Then that's not even half the number of men you've already turned down.”

She stopped walking abruptly. “Uncle, I don't feel like having this conversation. Please leave me alone,” she growled. She crossed her arms and looked at him with a grumpy face.

He, on the other hand, kept his smile politically correct. “Marry… don’t marry… It does not matter,’ he continued. “You remain a woman, Elay.”

The sound of her giggling sisters came closer and closer. As soon as she had the chance, she grabbed Madeleine's arm. “Maddy,” she said in a sweet voice. “Uncle Trevor here just asked for you.”

“Oh yes?” Madeleine said in surprise. “Why?”

“He'd like to know all about your dress for tomorrow's party.”

Madeleine let out an excited squeal. “Oh really,” she began, then clung enthusiastically to her uncle's arm.

Elay bowed curtly to her uncle, who looked back in amusement. “See you later, Elay,” he said. But it felt more like a threat.

“Looking forward to it, Uncle,” she lied, before sprinting away from the trio.

Barefoot, she felt the warm grass tickle. The light dress fluttered around her body as she weaved her way through the flower bushes of the royal palace gardens. She didn't stop running until she felt her breathing getting heavier; and that took a while.

After a while, Elay finally reached the small, dark-wooden Gazebo situated at the heart of the palace gardens, which wrapped around the entire structure. As she approached, she noticed Charles, a close friend and the royal family's gardener, seated on a small bench to her left. He was engrossed in a book, studying its pages intently.

As Elay gasped and approached, Charles looked up and a radiant smile spread across his face. “Elay!” he exclaimed eagerly. “Have you escaped from the clutches of the devil?”

“Something like that,” she replied with a laugh, then sat down next to him on the bench. She leaned the back of her head against the wooden canopy and felt the sun's rays on her face. “Looking forward to tomorrow?” she heard her good friend ask.

“No,” she answered immediately. “All four invitations have been declined. Not a single suitor will attend; if it continues like this I will really lose the throne.”

Charles playfully nudged her shoulder. “I still remember your sixteenth birthday,” he added, teasingly. It had been the year when men were first allowed to propose to her, and there had been no less than eight suitors vying for her hand, including the youngest prince from the werecat kingdom, the eldest son of a prominent noble family from across the kingdom, and even a prince from one of the neighbouring human kingdoms.

One of them had travelled for eight months just to ask for her hand in marriage.

But she had not accepted any of them.

And with good reason. They were all haughty, arrogant, and each of them sought a woman to give birth. To produce heirs.

She was not a showpiece. She was a queen. She was a better swordsman than anyone in her own kingdom and often attended contests and tournaments to show off her powers to whoever wanted to watch. She was a strong magician, made the purest tonics and potions of her entire family, and on top of that she knew everything about the political affairs of the palace and the nobles in Ubrena.

And despite all of that, they were still looking for someone with a p***s.

It was a terribly old-fashioned custom and she hated it.

“If only Trevor would not have allowed people to see him as a contestant for the throne,” she muttered.

“Then what,” Charles continued, grinning. “Then they would have looked further into the family. Your father's sister has three sons.”

“Rowen?” she exclaimed, as if bitten by a bee. “Rowen is not yet eight years old,” she mocked her oldest nephew. “And that's a better match than me? Or one of my sisters?”

Charles put his book on his lap and raised his hands in defence.

“Hey, I'd like no one to be my queen more than you,” he said. “Or maybe Madeleine,” he teased her with a lie. Playfully, she crossed her arms. “Okay, not even Madeleine,” Charles continued. “But you will have to accept the way things work. You must find a match, or the kingdom will go to Trevor. The sooner, the better.’

“Soon?” she repeated him with a pout. “You mean within now and ten years?”

He shook his head.

“Five years,” she went on bravely.

He shook his head again, with a wide smile.

“I would say this year. Even if you find a match, you still have to give birth. And what woman gives birth within a year of her marriage? Only few, let's be honest. And do you remember how old Queen Isabella was when she had you?”

Elay sighed deeply. “Nineteen,” she muttered against her will. “But what options do I have?”

Charles shrugged again. “You know that better than I do. I'm just a gardener. You are the princess.”

“I'm not a brooder,” she grumbled dissatisfied. “I am a strong, independent woman. I do not need a man. I am born of royal blood and it is just unfair that such a large part of the people think that women need a man to be good leaders.”

Charles took his book from his lap, opened it again, and focused his gaze on the letters. “I don't,” the boy said as he read. He had always been good at multitasking.

“You could be my king,” Elay dreamed playfully. “Then you stroll through the garden during the day, enjoy the flowers and read your book. I'll do the rest. The ruling and stuff.'

Chuck chuckled and nodded softly. “I can do that now, without wearing a heavy crown.”

“Now play along,” she insisted. She pushed him against his shoulder and then jumped up from the bench.

“I wish,” said the boy, putting down his book again. “But I'm not princely enough, Elay. You must marry a prince or nobleman.”

She crossed her arms. “I wouldn't have wanted to marry you anyway,” she said with a pout.

“Look, that solves two problems at once,” Charles continued. He smiled sweetly. “Can I read my book now?”