I remember falling in love with him so clearly.
I was only 7 years old at that time, in the rose garden of the palace. I was crying because my Presentation had not gone well. No blessings had been bestowed upon me. I was an Unblessed, with neither magic nor Divine favor. This would not have troubled me so much had I not been born into House Nox, and been given the name Lunaria. For as Lunaria of House Nox, I was supposed to be doubly blessed. I was the crown prince's fiancé, chosen for the future king at birth, and also the sole heir of House Nox. I had no siblings. No brother to keep in line, and no sister to dote. My Blessing Ceremony should have given me both power and prestige, instead, I was humiliated and given nothing.
The stares and whispers of the nobles who had been invited cut into my skin as I ran and hid from them. It was then that I discovered the rose garden. The beauty of the place took my younger self's breath away as I sat in one of the benches and wept. I wept for the disappointment on my father's face, for the scorn the ton had given me, and for the humiliation I brought not just into my House, but the Royal family's as well.
Footsteps on the path startled me, and I looked up and beheld him— Crown Prince Adonis Thaddeus Helios Sol. He was still in his ceremonial attire, the white and gold ensemble looking truly princely on him, even at just 10 years old. Being 3 years older than me, he stood taller than I even when I was sitting down.
"Your Highness!" I stuttered, giving him an awkward curtsy.
"At ease," he said gravely, "Why are you crying?"
I hiccoughed, "I'm sorry, Your Highness."
"What for?"
"My Blessing Ceremony… I have shamed both your House and mine—"
"You didn't stay for our dance afterward," the Prince said. There was no expression on his face.
"Pardon?" I asked.
"Our dance," the Prince repeated, extending his hand, asking for mine, "We did not yet have it. Will you give me the honor of a dance with you, Lady Lunaria?"
And in my childish mind, I thought this was the Prince's way of comforting me, of telling me that I need not have left in tears, of telling me it was all right. It was his way of telling me my failure did not matter, that he accepted me regardless of me being Unblessed.
We danced once, but it was enough for me to cement him in my heart forever.
I could not wait to get married to him. In my childish heart, it was all I could ever want. As I continued my lessons to become Empress and as I grew older, I ached to be with him. I ensured that everything I did, I did with excellence, with the utmost care and all with the thought that what I did that day would matter in the future as I reigned alongside the future King. I strove hard to excel in my studies of diplomacy and large-scale management, and all the subjects I needed in order to be a good Empress someday.
In my rose-colored view of the Prince, it took me a while to notice that he… didn't see me as favorably as I saw him.
The Prince didn't love me.
The next time I saw him, it was for my coming-of-age ceremony at 16 years old. 9 years have passed since we've seen each other, and he was a changed man by then. At 19 years old, the crown prince was both taller and more gentlemanly. Or so I thought. Maybe my memories of him only softened him, and that who he truly was was the hardened shell I met on my 16th birthday.
I tried to talk to him, tried to express with every gesture that I loved him, but all he saw was a hindrance. For some reason, the Prince seemed to hate me, instead. With cold eyes, he would watch everything I do as if it amused him.
We spent my coming-of-age in silent contempt (on his part) and morose discouragement (on mine). But the fact that the prince didn't love me was something I thought I was able to change. After my birthday, I swore to myself that I would work harder to polish myself and be a woman worthy of the prince. I thought I could charm him, thought I could make him love me by showing him how hard I worked to be his future Empress.
How wrong I was. It was all for naught.
On his 21st birthday, the crown prince became King. I was barely 18. Three back-to-back celebrations were held: Adonis Sol's birthday, his royal crowning ceremony, and our marriage.
It started out as the happiest day of my life. I was finally married to the man I love. Finally, we were to be united as man and wife. I could begin in earnest to show him that I was the woman for him.
Later that night, after the wedding ceremony, what started out as the happiest day of my life turned into something decidedly… not.
The King was rough with me. I wasn't ready. It hurt.
I tried to push on despite that. Wasn't it supposed to hurt the first time? It was something I had always been warned about, in coy smirks and blushing giggles by my maidservants. But… was it really supposed to hurt that much? I didn't know. But it didn't hurt any less as the days bled on, and I began to fear the time that the King would call for me in his chambers. He was just so… rough with me. There was no love in his actions, just pure animalistic drive. I began to feel like a broodmare for His Majesty's pleasure. I hated it. I hated it.
Then, as the days began to blur into one another, I received whispers that the King had met someone. Someone he considered… special.
Her name was Lady Alleandra Yvonne Aurelius. She was the daughter of a knight, a rank barely above a commoner. It was not that I looked down on her for her status, rather that I would often be appalled by her manners. She acted familiar with everyone, although the rest of the nobles tolerated her simply because she was favored by the King. Trained to be the future Queen, she was recalcitrant during her lessons— lazy, unmotivated, and she was unapologetic about all these things.
I was devastated.
What was I to do? I had thought that I loved him. But his eyes remained cold as he beheld me, his countenance filled with barely-concealed contempt. Why does His Majesty hate me so? What have I done wrong but love him? Was there something contemptible in me? Something worthy of abhorrence? Was I simply unloveable?
That night, when the King called me into his chambers, I resolved to please him— to beg him to deny the rumors I had just heard, that he loved her.
Before he could touch me, I spoke: "My King."
He grunted.
"I have heard rumors… about Lady Alleandra—"
"Don't you dare speak her name in such a fashion. She will be the future Queen, my one true love—"
"If you love her," I spoke with a tremor, just sick and tired of everything at this point. I had waited for him for years, worked so hard to catch his attention, did everything I could to please him. I was pliant in everything, believing subservience to be the ultimate form of love— all for naught.
"If you love her," I said, "Then why am I here?"
What followed was a lesson in brutality. And I had thought he was rough before. It was nothing compared to what followed.
"Make no mistake: you're just a warm body, you fucking bitch!"
I spent a few weeks recovering, and then I heard the happy news:
"Congratulations, dear Empress," said one of my maidservants, her head lowered, her worried expression belying her words, "You are with child."
I cried. My child, the future ruler, born of rape.
"You have a weak constitution," warned the palace physician, "You must spend your pregnancy in bed rest, for the child, my Empress."
The weeks that followed were a peaceful one. My father, a cold man who I had never really felt close to, visited me almost daily. It was only then that I saw him for the caring father that he was, just someone who didn't know how to express himself even to those whom he loved.
"You must reserve your strength," said my father, holding my hand, "Once the child is born, I'll have you moved to the Rose Border Castle."
I looked at him in surprise. Was my misery really that obvious?
"You do not approve of this plan?" asked my father.
Beyond relief, I couldn't help but let a few tears escape, "No, father. Going to the Rose Border Castle sounds marvelous."
He nodded, looking pleased, "We leave the moment the child is fit to travel."
It was akin to voluntary exile, but I didn't mind. It was beginning to look exceedingly clear to me, that life in this castle was taking a toll on me not just physically but mentally as well. I was simultaneously shunned and pitied by the Court, hated by my husband, and my only allies are my maidservants. There was no quarter for me from the nobles, whom I grew up with. I was alone in this place.
Six months into my pregnancy, I received a visitor that wasn't my father.
"Lady Alleandra," I said, masking my distaste, "Welcome. What brings you here?"
"Can't I visit my future co-ruler?" she asked all smiles and warmth. I nearly shuddered, because I could not tell if she was faking or not. What a formidable actress.
"Of course you can, Lady Alleandra," I said, "What's that you bring?"
"Oh! I brought some tea for you, Empress Lunaria," she said, "Let's drink this while we chat. I heard that it has a wonderful aroma, and is especially good for pregnancies."
"So," she began once the tea was served. I took a sip, and she smiled, pleased.
"It's been terribly busy with you here in confinement. It's the reason the King can't visit, you understand. With one royal down, he's been picking up the slack, the poor dear."
"Ah," I said. It sounded like she was blaming my pregnancy for not being able to work as I should, "And what about yourself? Have you been terribly busy, too, Lady Alleandra?"
"Oh me? I'm still taking those horrible lessons, so I can't yet help, of course."
"Of course," I parroted, inwardly disgusted. I had heard rumors that she was as lazy as ever in her lessons.
"Well, that's about it for me, I suppose. I better get back to my lessons," Lady Alleandra said, "Do finish your tea, my dear Empress."
That night, I suffered a miscarriage. I screamed when I saw the blood on my sheets. So much blood. So much blood.
"My baby!" I yelled. Screamed. Sobbed. I was vaguely aware of my father rocking me back to sleep two days later after I failed to sleep due to the guilt.
The tea Lady Alleandra had given me. They said it wasn't good for pregnancies after all.
"We'll leave this place very soon," said my father, bags under his eyes with a wild look on his face, "Soon, Lunaria. We'll be gone from this place. I just have to take care of one thing. I'll be back before you know it, okay? I just have to take care of one thing."
I nodded, weak, "Yes, Papa. I'll see you soon."
He looked stricken for some reason as I said my goodbyes.
I should not have let him go.
The next day, I received news that my father was being tried for treason. A rebellion had been brewing, and he was the number one suspect in leading it. Desperately sick and weakened, I nevertheless made myself presentable before the King, visiting him in the throne room to plead my father's case.
"Oh, Duke Nox? His execution happened this morning," said the King nonchalantly.
Everything went white, and the next thing I remembered, my hair was in disarray, I was holding a bloody hairpin, and the guards were yelling for my arrest. I had attacked the King. He barely looked ruffled. The pin only poked a small hole on his arm.
In my heart, I wished him dead.
"Take her to the courtyard," said the King, "It seems two Noxes will die today for treason."
They dragged me away, and I wondered:
What did I ever do to you? What sin have I committed except loving you?
Later, when the nobles had been gathered, when the sky had broken open, and when my sentence had been read for everyone to hear, I made an oath:
Next time, I'll do things differently. I won't love you again. I won't bother with all this again. I'll be smarter. Stronger. Wiser. Things will be better, next time.
Next time.