Chapter 2 - The Princess Returns 2
800 Words
Her name was Seraphina Ashbourne. She was twenty years old—the cherished daughter of King Reginald Ashbourne of the Kingdom of Arvenia.
Seraphina had been born with every advantage: noble blood, wealth, and striking beauty. Fate had clearly favored her, blessing her with a legacy few could rival—and a face that turned heads wherever she went.
There’s an old saying about being “pampered and spoiled,” and if anyone fit that description, it was Seraphina. Her life had been crafted from birth to be one of luxury and endless indulgence.
When Seraphina was born, her mother was eating a grapefruit when her water broke unexpectedly. Amidst the frenzy of that moment, watched by a nation holding its breath, Seraphina came into the world.
King Reginald planned an extravagant celebration to announce his daughter’s arrival to the kingdom. But the queen wanted otherwise. She longed to protect Seraphina from the public eye—to give her a normal, peaceful childhood away from gossip and prying eyes.
They argued for days. In the end, the king relented.
Soon after, he issued strict orders to the court and the press: no photos, no stories, no invasions of their privacy. Everyone knew the king had a daughter, but no one knew what she looked like—or even her name.
Seraphina was a vision—porcelain skin like fine china, eyes deep and dark as ripe grapes, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings, lips soft and pink as cherry blossoms. She had inherited the finest features from both her parents.
Though her mother wished for her to live quietly, Seraphina’s life was anything but ordinary. She grew up in a world of opulence, surrounded by the kingdom’s wealth—a little princess in a gilded cage.
Her mother had once been told she couldn’t have children. After years of hardship, Seraphina was their miracle. Her father’s love was fierce and boundless—he would have plucked stars from the sky to make her happy.
But this love came with consequences. Seraphina grew up spoiled and headstrong. At school and at home, she was known for her sharp temper and stubbornness.
When she was two, a servant accidentally pulled a hair from her favorite doll. Seraphina cried and immediately fired the servant.
At four, a boy touched her cheek because he thought she was cute. She dragged him to the playground and punched him until his nose bled. After that, no one dared get close to her.
At five, she developed an aversion to the color blue. Anything blue in the castle was removed, and servants caught wearing blue were promptly dismissed.
There were countless incidents like these.
At eight, she discovered a love for shooting. On weekends, she made servants hold apples on their heads while she practiced with a water pistol. Once, she accidentally hit a servant’s eye with such force it almost caused permanent damage.
Her mother finally saw the danger in spoiling her daughter so recklessly. But her father refused to listen—he believed as long as Seraphina was happy, nothing else mattered.
Their argument escalated into the fiercest fight they’d ever had. In frustration, the queen stormed out—and tragedy struck.
That afternoon, her carriage collided with a heavy wagon on the road.
Seraphina was eight when her mother died.
Her father held her close, mourning by her mother’s grave for three days and nights.
At that age, Seraphina didn’t understand death. When the servants told her, “The Queen has passed away,” she was confused.
“Passed away?” What did that mean?
Seeing her father’s grief, she asked, “Dad, why are you crying like that in front of Mom’s picture?”
He had always been strong and steady in her eyes.
But now, seeing him broken shattered her world.
He pulled her close and whispered, voice trembling, “Seraphina, Mom is gone.”
“Where did Mom go?” she asked, pouting, thinking maybe her mother had just gone out to play.
“Seraphina, Mom won’t be coming back.”
She frowned, still unable to grasp the finality.
The truth didn’t fully sink in until Seraphina was nine years old—the year her father brought home a glamorous woman and a girl around her own age.
It was then that Seraphina finally understood: her mother was truly gone.
She never imagined the storybook tale of Cinderella would play out in her own life.
She had always admired and revered her father, but now she learned he had found a new wife—and with her came a stepsister.
At nine, Seraphina didn’t yet understand heartbreak. But when she saw the apologetic look on her father’s face, she knew the mountain of love she had built for him had shattered completely.
- Writer
