To Love A Princess

Chapter Nine

My mother was able to gather enough energy to eat dinner with my father and I tonight. Since she was eating with us, we silently agreed to not argue for her sake. After she told me she heard us yelling at each other, apparently she had a talk with both of us. I’m not saying that I’m letting my guard down and caving, all I’m saying is that we’re taking a pause however long that will be. 

Since she wasn’t able to walk to the dining room, Hubert had pushed her in here in her wheelchair. She then rose to sit in her seat at the opposite end of the table from where my father was sitting. I sat on the sides. My eyes landed on her and my heart felt as if it weighed a ton. She appeared more hollow today. Her eyes seemed bigger and her cheeks looked more narrow. As if she’s already decaying but without dying. Doctor Owens hasn’t even bothered to come by to see how she’s doing, but my guess is that he’ll come by next week. Probably on the day when she’s getting ready to go. 

“So Isabelle I hear you and Damen are doing well,” my mother spoke, attempting to spark a conversation. 

“Yes we are. We are going to be tasting cakes on Monday. Hopefully it will be done by the time we’re supposed to marry,” I responded. 

“Which is next Saturday correct?” she asked. 

“Yes that is correct,” I responded. 

My father cleared his throat, clearly wanting to be involved in this conversation. Any time anyone discusses the wedding in front of him, he has a dire need of being part of the conversation. 

“Is your dress almost complete?” my mother asked, completely ignoring my father.  

“I believe so but I want to add something to it. I’ll have it done before the wedding,” I replied. 

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad you’re doing this honey. I just wish your life didn’t have to be like this,” she told me. 

“She’s doing a good thing for her kingdom as all princesses her age should be doing. She has responsibilities Abbey,” my father interjected as he took a sip of his wine. 

He looked at me with a smug look on his face. I wanted to scold him for even saying such a thing. 

“Leonard no one at seventeen wants to get married. Don’t even bring up how she has responsibilities. Just because you were put into an arranged marriage and were miserable, doesn’t mean you can take it out on Isabelle,” my mother spat. 

I nearly spit out my water. “Dad you were put into an arranged marriage?” I asked wide eyed. 

“Yes I was but I got out of it obviously to marry your mother. And it’s something I don’t like talking about so let’s just drop it and eat,” he told me using a hard tone as he picked at his food with his fork.

My eyes were set on the food in front of me and I let out a small sigh. I scooped up my peas with my spoon and took a small bite. I was shocked at the fact that my own father was put into an arranged marriage and was able to get out of it. He’s never mentioned it before and I feel as if I know the reason why. 

“We shall never bring this up again, understand?” my father asked. 

“Understood,” I responded. 

He simply nodded and then continued eating. I on the other hand pushed my plate away suddenly feeling full. My mother looked at me and held a worried look on her face. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” I responded. 

“Well you’ve barely touched your food. Should I have the staff prepare something else for you?” she questioned. 

“No,” I replied quickly. “Can I be excused please?” 

I didn’t wait for anyone’s permission to leave. I wiped the corner of my lips with one of the napkins and rose out of my chair. 

“Unbelievable,” I heard my father mutter. “For once your mother has enough strength to eat with us and you ask to be excused.”

“I’m just feeling tired. When you have a wedding coming up in a week, you become more tired than usual,” I snapped. 

“Isabelle! You bite your tongue young lady and apologize to your father right this instant,” my mother demanded, her jaw slightly dropped. 

“For what reason?” I asked.  “Is it because I speak the truth? Because the truth is, I’m honestly so tired of having to do everything on everyone else’s terms. I am forced to do things just to serve a kingdom I didn’t even ask to be part of. I’m being forced to marry someone whom I just met a few months ago, and someone I don’t love at that. Dad has this massive ego and can’t admit the fact that I don’t want this, but instead he has to act like I do when I clearly don’t. And he only puts on this act to please King Harold, so he can be at peace and feel secure knowing his son is married. Mom you’re so sick that you’re barely around to even notice it.” 

I didn’t realize what I had said until it was too late. And suddenly, everything seemed frozen for just a moment. My father rose from his chair, scraping the floor in the process. He looked at me, anger, rage plastered on his face. Right about now, I wish I were in bed, dreaming about Olivia and all the things we could be doing right now. But instead I’m here most likely about to be sent to my room and be locked in there for the rest of the night. 

My father pounded his fist on the table, causing the glasses to rattle. “Isabelle Vivian Reynolds I have had it with this attitude of yours. Your mother and I are doing everything we can to take care of you and this is the thanks we get? I have let it slide because yes I’m aware of how much stress this is on you, but this attitude of yours will not be tolerated any longer. Go to your room and do not come out until I get there!” 

He didn’t have to repeat himself. I stormed out of the dining room. As I walked down the hallways, I began to wish Olivia were here telling me that everything will be okay and then give me one of her warm hugs. I wish she were here to play with my hair and give me a kiss on the cheek, but then I’d move my head at the last second so our lips could meet instead. And then she’d be caught by surprise but kiss me anyways because she’s used to my shenanigans by now. I just want her here by my side at all times. 

Pushing open the door to my bedroom, I slammed it shut and then strided over to my desk. My worn out leather journal was still open from last night’s entry. My fingers brushed against the pages. Fresh hot tears began to roll down my cheek, wetting the pages in random spots. Besides Olivia and Damen, I have no one to talk to and I need someone from the outside to help guide me through this. I know for sure that if a stranger gave their opinion on it, they’d be able to tell me what to do. But strangers here can’t be trusted. If word gets out about this, my family and I’s reputation would be ruined. If only Olivia were here. She gives great advice when I need it.