Different birds warbled cheerfully among the leaf strewn branches of the old elm tree. A seven year old Ophelia watched them, amazed by the cacophony of colours and sounds. Although the little princess had learned a lot about trees, plants and flowers from her mother, she didn't know much about birds even though they fascinated her, especially their many brilliant colors.
Beneath her small feet a bloom of white and yellow daffodils flourished, they were lush and almost as pretty as the birds she admired, with butterflies and ladybugs dancing over them.
Bending low, the princess carefully plucked a cluster of flowers, then giggled when a yellow butterfly with brown streaks, perched on them. Daffodils were her mother's favorite, so she didn't need to think too much about what to do with the ones in hand.
However the giddy Ophelia did not realize there was another person there, untill a young boy snuck up on her.
The boy who was a head taller than the chubby princess, had blue down-turned eyes that spoke volumes of his naughtiness, and rich blonde hair which was supposed to be swept back in a dignified manner, but had been roughy undone.
His hands went over the princess's small shoulders as he carelessly tugged her back into his embrace. Little Ophelia shrieked surprised, and the small bouquet of flowers slipped through her fingers.
"Did you miss me princess?"
Asked the ill-behaved boy cheerfully, his voice held notes of mischief as he hugged her from behind.
In all the palace's there was only one person who could hold her like that, and there had once been a time when she loved playing with him more than anything else. But as they grew older his games became less and less gentle, until the little princess decided to no longer seek his company.
He was none other than her older cousin.
"My flowers, look what you've done."
She complained, upset that her efforts had gone to waste.
The governess would definitely scold her for dirtying her hands and beautiful lavender dress, yet he'd come from no where and ruined everything. Peering over her shoulders, she met the excited smile and brilliant ice blue eyes of a ten year old Stefan.
"Did you miss me Princess?"
He asked, the whisper sent goosebumps running up and down the back of her neck, instantly slapping the trapped Ophelia back to the present.
"Let me go. Stefan."
She seethed, glaring at his reflection through the mirror. A smug smile was plastered across his lips, with his rich blond hair neatly swept back as always.
She wanted nothing more than to dig her nails into his skin and leave a permanent scar across his face, a face that many noble lady's considered terribly handsome.
Oh how they would weep!
"Oh come now Lia. I haven't seen you in months, don't be so cold to me now."
He whispered feigning hurt, while nestling his head into the curve of her neck. Ophelia gasped as his slick tongue ran across her bare shoulder, she attempted to twist out of his grip but he was too strong for her, and he only chuckled at her vain struggle to escape from him.
Completely blind to his younger cousin's discomfort, Stefan shamelessly held her closer, fondling her petite curves and lathering kisses on her pale smooth skin, he loved how his touch made her shudder and he couldn't get enough of the frightened sounds she made.
They only fanned the flames of his desire for her.
"I've missed you so terribly."
He murmured his eyes closed as he relished the forced embrace, listening to the steady sound of her ragged breathing. Even though she tried to hide it, she was still scared of him and that thought excited him more.
"Let me go."
She hissed, pulling away from him.
"Don't pretend to be all virtuous. I can tell you've longed for me just as much,"
"Stefan. I. Will. Scream!"
"Now now. We both know that's a lie."
He chuckled darkly, knowing all too well that she would never scream for this much.
Stefan knew she valued her innocent reputation more than anything else, and for this reason she would not taint it with something as abominable, as what he always hoped to do with her.
But what the prince wasn't anticipating was Ophelia's next move.
The princess angled herself as far away from him as possible, then flung her head backward suddenly, catching the unsuspecting prince off guard as the back of her head collided with his lowered face.
"Aargh!"
He reeled backwards, dazed and confused, giving her just enough room to twist out of his hold. Ophelia pushed him away with all her strength, then dashed towards the large canopied bed, immediately grabbing the bronze stiletto she kept at the edge of the bedding.
"GET OUT OF HERE."
She shouted glaring harshly at him. Her deep blue eyes screamed rage as she held unto the seemly harmless stiletto, which hid a blade of pure terrasilver underneath it's blunt silver sheath.
Stefan's confusion only lasted for a moment, he arched an impressed brow at her. Although his nose throbbed painfully, a feeling he didn't like one bit, he loved how daring his precious cousin had grown over the four months he was away.
"Princess! It seems the duke's convoy has arriv-Oh,"
A surprised Vilda paused by the door at the sight of the prince.
She'd only left the princess for a short while, yet he'd found his way into her room, even the handmaids calm expression changed into one of anger at this.
"Put that away Ophelia, I was leaving anyways."
Stefan said irritated, shooting an annoyed look at Vilda, who returned it in kind.
"And before I forget. Your future husband is here,"
he added with a smirk.
Ophelia's gaze faltered ever so slightly as she heard this and he relished In the satisfaction that his words bothered her so.
"The man is even older than my father."
"GET OUT!"
Ophelia screamed, and he finally left.
"Your highness are you alright? You're not hurt anywhere are you?"
An anxious Vilda asked, she held the princess's hands and looked her over for any cause of discomfort, quickly observing how her lady's dress was rumpled in some parts.
The small hand sleeve now rested below her shoulders in a crude way, and the back of her once neatly groomed hair look ruffled.
The maid didn't need to ask what the prince had come to do, yet out of worry for Ophelia's well being, she did anyways.
"Princess did he harm you?"
In all her years the Vilda had never seen anyone quite as horrible as the crown prince.
He was a filthy hyena that wore the skin of a noble lion. Already well aware of what kind of a person Stefan was, Vilda knew all the reasons he ever came to see Ophelia, and she despised him the more for every single one.
The princess's angry countenance finally softened when Vilda hugged her. That's when she realized she'd been crying.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone your highness. It's my fault, i'm sorry..."
Although she appreciated the maids warmth, Vilda's words didn't quite reach Ophelia, who slowly allowed herself to be crushed under the weight of her conflicting emotions and the many years of frustration.
'I just want it to end.'
Was her only thought as she carefully tucked the stiletto into a hidden pocket of her dress.
Mustering a gentle smile, she pushed the maid back and said.
"I'm alright. I think I know what to do, so don't worry Vilda."
Ophelia had made up her mind to end the suffering with her own hands. She would no longer accept this humiliation, not another moment of it.
"Where are you going your highness? "
Vilda asked watching the princess who calmly adjusted the sleeve of her dress, then made out of the room, as though nothing had happened.
"To the gardens,"
"But princess, the the king instructed,"
That she was to head to the main hall immediately, but the handmaiden never got the chance to say this.
"The king, and my marriage can wait...WHY! are you following me?"
Ophelia inquired from the maid who trailed behind her.
"I want to go with you."
Vilda had a bad feeling, something was off about , but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, and so, she did not want to leave her side, especially not after what just transpired between her and the prince only moments earlier.
However with a tired smile, and tears sparkling in her eyes, Ophelia gave the maid what would be a final instruction.
"Stay here, I wish to be alone."