"Please endure it a bit more Princess,"
Vilda pleaded, right before pulling on the sash of the princess's corset for what felt like the fifth time. Ophelia gasped, the tapered bodice squeezed her stomach to the extent that it was nearly impossible to breath, but as the handmaiden had instructed, she patiently endured it.
Today was the meeting and marriage between her and her intended, so she needed all her wits about her.
Unlike other princess's, she would leave the imperial palace alongside him as soon as the wedding formalities were carried out.
There would be no ceremony, no bridal gifts, nothing. It was a simple and dull event that couldn't even be compared to a low class debut.
Despite it, Ophelia wasn't complaining neither did she feel bothered that the king was cheating her out of everything, what simply mattered to her was getting out of the palace and altering the events of her dreams.
Even if it meant marrying the northern duke.
As soon as the adjustments were finished on the bodice and the crinoline, two other maids who quietly stood by brought the main dress forward.
It was a cream coloured gown made from embroidered Kesmian silk. The dress itself was embellished with gold and cobalt blue designs, which complimented her bright azul eyes and made her look even more enchanting.
Dutifully the two maids aided Vilda in dressing the princess. Much unlike the chatty Vilda, these women didn't speak as they carried out their task, and while Ophelia appreciated it since it gave her room to mind her worrying thoughts, she did not miss the dry and distasteful looks they shot her way, when they thought she wasn't looking.
She chuckled softly.
'They still see me as a powerless person. No fancy chamber or dress can change that.'
The thought resounded in the her mind like a faint echo.
None in the palace, not even the servants respected her. Although they did not often show signs of open disrespect, she had always been treated more like an unwanted guest by them, and even worse by her aunt the queen.
While the behaviour of her cousins were simply detestable.
However Ophelia had come to accept it, even to the extent of accepting the political marriage without any complaints.
She once fostered the thought that marrying some stranger was far better than living like a ghost, abandoned and forgotten in the lower quarters of the palace, while enduring constant humiliation from her cousins and other members of the high aristocracy.
Now she just wanted to do to survive.
'Not that I ever had a choice otherwise.' she thought bitterly.
The issue of any princess' wedding usually ended with politics, and her's wasn't any different.
Betrothed at the tender age of six, her young intended had died a year after her parents did, and since then there was no word on the subject of her marriage.
Afterwards, none wanted to be affiliated with her in any way.
In the end, she was the one who carried catastrophes and ill-omens everywhere she went, nothing good ever came from being her person.
And so the aristocracy avoided her like a plague, as did her uncle and his family.
From amongst the many nobles, Duke Adlad Vladimir was the only one who honestly cared for her before and after the passing of her parents. Her late father once agreed to unite their families through the marriage, because of the brotherly bond they shared.
But after the death of duke Adlad's heir, the duke quietly returned to the north and remained there. He stayed away from the capital as well as the high society, silently ruling over his territory for years.
However all that changed just months ago, when his riders brought news to the palace of his intention to proceed with the marriage, one which everyone had assumed to be null.
'But if my intended really is the duke, then he should be well over fifty.
Am I striving to change the future, only to live as the wife of an old man? Is that really what I want?'
The question that nudged on her mind remained unspoken and unanswered.
Ophelia's consent wasn't an issue, as her uncle prided himself on the fact that he could get it from her whenever he pleased, and besides, he would never have returned the fortune which the royal family received as the princess's dowry.
So the king saw it as an opportunity for the nuisance of a child to finally be useful.
Meanwhile Vilda retrieved an ornament box from the gilded mirror table, then returned just as quickly to her lady's side, completely ignorant to the myriad of thoughts that swarmed her mind, thoughts which she masterfully hid beneath an unwavering serene disposition.
A fourth maid, Bessa skillfully groomed the princess's midnight black hair into a rich loose part-braid, while the handmaid donned a weighty golden necklace on her person, one which was embellished with several, delicately carved reddish-black opal gemstones, as well as a set of earrings that matched it perfectly.
"Take them back,"
Ophelia instructed, casting an angry glare at her reflection and the breathtaking jewels that rested on her slender neck and small ears.
The necklace felt cold on her pale skin, and far heavier than what worn jewelry she was accustomed to wearing, it was undoubtedly beautiful so she didn't hate it, what she hated on the other hand was the thought that came with it.
It was a betrothal gift from her uncle. And although he'd taken a great deal from her, this was the among the first few things he'd given back in over thirteen years.
A gorgeous ornament set, one that sealed an unexpected union.
The upset frown Ophelia wore seemed very out of place on the face of the refined lady who stared back at her in the mirror, her imposing beauty made the hateful expression look more like a distasteful pout as she glared at the lavish accessory.
"I do not wish to wear this, bring me something else. The simplest jewelry you can find."
At this point one of the maids, Bessa the one who tended her hair, couldn't help give an irritated huff at the her behavior.
Everyone knew quite well that the princess was only receiving the king's favor because of her impending marriage. It was a hot topic amongst the maids of various houses, what was also a curious issue between them was how arrogant she'd become after moving into the pearl chamber weeks ago.
Unfortunately for Bessa, Ophelia wasn't in the best mood, and she did not miss her rude huff or the impolite smug look on the servants face afterwards.
That's when all the anxiety and frustration that the princess had locked up inside spilled to the surface. She'd finally reached her limit with these servants.
The entitled maid instantly pressed her hands to her lips when she realized Ophelia's cold gaze was fixed on her through the mirror.
"Pardon me your highness, I-I didn't mean to,"
"Get out." Ophelia said, her silvery voice held it's ever calm tone.
"And ask the guards to escort you to the dungeons."
She continued looking at the at the maid who stood rigid, staring at her feet in fright in surprise.
Bessa honestly didn't know why the princess's attitude had changed. This wasn't the first time she'd been openly rude to her, many of the other servants were often like this as well, and they had done far worse things, but she'd always ignored them.
'So just why is she being like this all of a sudden.'
Bessa bit her lower lip, the fright she initially felt gave way to anger.
'She's not even a real princess, so how dare she think to punish me.' She thought.
Bessa Geoffrey was the fourth daughter of a wealthy Barony, and also a handmaid to princess Eloise, the first daughter and second child of king Jonas.
This was the reason why Ophelia's punishment annoyed the the rude maid even more.
A punishment to her meant an insult to her mistress. Plus there was no greater insult to the prideful Eloise.
So Bessa resigned to refuse the princess's punishment and instead, return to her own mistress for protection. But her plans were shattered by the command she heard next.
"And you'll be confined there till the sun sets. Vilda, ensure the guards are aware of this"
"Yes your highness," came Vilda's response.
"Guards!"
"Your highness I apologize, please pardon me,"
the formerly arrogant Bessa pleaded, her head inclined in a small bow.
Ophelia cast a tired glance at her, but impatiently looked away.
"Get her out of my sight."
The two guards who were called in immediately obeyed the order and held unto the maid, then proceeded to escort her out of the chamber forcefully when she refused to cooperate.
"I apologize, forgive me your highness!"
Bessa's appeal grew even more desperate as she was dragged out of the room. She was anxious not because of Ophelia's punishment, rather it was quite the opposite. The maid thought of what princess Eloise would do to her when this was discovered, and that thought was far more frightening than being confined in the cells for a day.
"Princess! Princess! I beg yo..."
Her cries were silenced as Vilda pushed the oaken doors shut.
"Now get me a simpler necklace."
Ophelia instructed calmly looking over her reflection in the mirror, as though she had not just thrown a maid out. The two maids turned to each other, eyes wide in shock.
"Are you done?"
Her question caught them off guard, and they both bowed in unison then answered.
"Yes your highness."
"Then you may leave."
That was all they needed to hear as they bowed again then exited the room in haste, shutting the door a bit too loudly behind them.
Ophelia turned to a surprised Vilda, and the two burst out laughing.
"Now hurry after the guards Vilda, ask them to release her." The princess said as their laughter died down.
"What? But Princess...why?"
Ophelia wasn't a fickle person, no one knew this better than Vilda herself. However she had just taken back an order she gave moments ago.
The handmaid got confused.
"You seem to forget she's Eloise's servant, the last thing I want is that entitled fox breathing down my neck,"
She explained, personally wearing the much simpler golden chocker Vilda had given her.
"And i'm not Stefan. I couldn't have a person punished so harshly for a simple huff, even if she was rude."
Her older cousin, crown prince Stefan had done worse to servants and surbodinates for less offenses, so it wasn't unusual for his name to pop up in such conversations.
"Well I think she deserves to be flogged and then locked up."
The princess clicked her tongue then laughed.
"You're such a cruel woman. Now please go inform the guards, hurry."
"Yes your highness."
That said, the maid went hastily after the guards.
Finally alone in the opulent Chamber, the princess's genteel demeanor slowly morphed into one of childish excitement.
Almost as though taking off a mask, she pushed aside the countless troubling thoughts and allowed herself to relax. Happily she spun around in front of the gilded mirror which stood tall.
Ophelia giggled innocently at herself and the angelic young woman in the mirror reacted the exact same way.
"I look so beautiful in this dress."
She gushed, pulling on the skirt of her embellished crinoline gown to admire the heeled slippers she wore underneath.
And then the moment ended.
Two firm hands snaked around her slyph waist and roughly pulled her back. She shrieked in fear as her back struck a firm chest, and the much bigger hands pressed their bodies together in a forced hug.
He was here again!
Like before, she felt her throat tighten while he held her firmly, caressing her stomach and chest through the embroidered folds of her dress.
Ophelia wanted to scream.
She almost didn't care about what would happen if her cries for help reached the guards stationed at the corridors, or the servants that moved along carrying out their duties.
The princess almost didn't care if they came bursting into her room and found her entangled in the arms of this man. She wanted nothing more than to get away from him in that instant.
But like before she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Ophelia knew quite well what the consequences of her actions would be. If she was caught in his embrace, horrible rumors would definitely be spurred on by the scene.
And she understood what devastating harm the gossip that would follow would do to her virtue, as well as the facade that was his noble reputation.
So in bitter disgust, she bit on her tender lip and held in the scream.
Still his revolting hands wouldn't let go.
"Did you miss me Princess."
He whispered the words into her ear.