"Smile, my Queen."
King William Vaughn the third, whispered to his wife.
"It's a celebration of our love, not a funeral from Christ' sake!" He continued speaking through his teeth.
To which she, Rosella Hightower, did as she was told. Just for the sole purpose of giving the vultures called journalists; that have hounded her- her whole life, what they wanted.
She had figured in the earliest years of her life, that sometimes the easiest way to get rid of a problem was to not fight it at all.
But to go with the flow.
Or at least pretend to, just until it blew over.
"The King and Queen will be taking a few of your questions now."
Ronald, the man specifically handpicked by the King himself to act as compere- announced to the group of journalists with both glee and warning.
Cameras snapped their photos from every angle.
A few hands shot up shortly after the announcement; with which upon being chosen by Ronald, allowed each of the journalists the opportunity to fire their questions.
"My Queen," a middle aged woman began.
"As you're celebrating your fifth wedding anniversary today, how would you describe your marriage and life with the king in the duration of all the years that have passed?"
"Uhm," Rosella cleared her throat.
"It has been five years of wedded bliss, truly." She stated with the smile that she had managed to practice and muster over the years; one that looked radiant to whoever happened to be watching from afar.
But also, one that failed to reach her eyes.
More questions came; not only just about their life together, but even ones about when they would be having an heir to their throne.
Which she and her beloved husband handled with the poise and grace, that's always expected from royalty.
And upon getting a subtle nod from the King, Ronald put an end to the journalists' line of questioning.
Which put an official end to their long day of entertaining guests, and smiling until their cheeks hurt too.
"I hate you so much William Vaughn." She muttered to him under her breath, as she continued to plaster a smile on her face for the benefit of the rest of their now leaving guests.
"You've been singing that song for five years now," he sighed heavily and in a utterly bored manner.
"Don't you think it's time you accepted that your hatred towards me, will do nothing to change your situation?"
He asked, before storming off without waiting a single second for a response.
"And just like that, the monster's back."
She muttered to herself this time around, before she stood and headed to her designated wing of the palace.
With the members of other near and dear Royal families; and the rest of their esteemed guests gone, they didn't have to put up pretences for anyone. Time for wearing masks for the benefit of others was over.
Their stuff around the palace were fully aware of the hostile situation between the King and Queen.
But the non disclosure agreements that they all signed just before they began working for them, forbade each one of them from airing their dirty laundry.
To both their small circles of friends and families, all the way to the public at large.
So each time they acted in a questionable manner around one another, they knew that all they had to do was just turn a blind eye or just look the other way.
The elegant gown she had been wearing during the commemoration; was the first thing she got rid of, when she got to the privacy of her bedroom.
She changed into flannel pajamas and sat before her still opened sketch pad.
When life in the palace got too much for her, she always found an escape in drawing.
Closing her eyes and allowing her mind to wander across her wildest dreams and imaginations, has always been her saving grace from the thorns that came with living her life.
She heard a soft knock on her door, just as she was tying her hair into a ponytail.
"Come in," she excitedly responded.
Thinking that it was Emmeline, one of their helpers.
Who had been a caretaker of hers, since she was a baby.
The only thing she had ever had a say in, in her marriage to King William was having Emmeline continue to work for her- when she officially moved from her parent's palace to his.
To her; she wasn't just a helper, but the closest thing she had to a best friend too.
After her parents were brutally killed, she started considering her as the only one she was left with in the whole wide world.
She usually had a lot of talks in the evenings with her.
Where she confided in her.
And thoughtfully listened to every piece of advice that she may have for her, especially when it came to navigating certain politics that came with living in a palace.
Since she was well versed on a lot in that department, especially after beginning to work for her parents when she was just a young woman herself.
"You sound better than earlier," William noted upon pushing her door open.
Which instantly soured her most recently jovial mood, that had just been caused by the thought of Emmeline coming over to check on her.
"It's you," she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"You sound disappointed," he observed with slurred speech.
Which made her instantly realize that he had not only been drinking, but still had a drink in his hand.
"What do you want William?" She closed her sketch pad and stand and placed it in her whole bedroom sized closet. No inspiration could strike her after her husband's visit, that was for sure.
"I want you, Rose."
He placed the glass of the amber liquid he had been drinking, and threw himself on her bed.
"I want you to act like my god damned wife, for once in your life!"
"That's not going to happen," she said in a calm yet final tone.
When she was just twenty years old; her parent's palace was attacked by a still unknown army, which even led them to their untimely death.
A few months later; she was surrounded by their army of lawyers, who sadly informed her that if she didn't consent to marry King William she would lose everything that was rightfully hers.
The mines that her parents had, the real estate across the kingdom and all their investments too.
Damning paperwork showed an agreement that they had signed with King William the second, while he was still alive. Her life went from being a recently orphaned princess, to being an instant sacrifial lamb. Happily tied and handed to a man that she didn't and couldn't love, by her now dead parents.
The disappointment she felt in them sucked all that was left of her strength and happiness for life.
And instead of putting up a fight and digging deeper into the genesis of their wicked dealings and unpleasant plans for her life, she sat still.
In the large and beautiful palace.
Living a lavish life, with a man that she despised with every fiber of her being.
"I've loved you since you were a little girl," William who was only five years older than her said.
She didn't have a hard time believing his words.
Because she remembered him making a nuisance of himself, at every single one of the dinners and many royal interactions that her parents had with his.
Except what he believed to be love, was nothing close to it at all to her.
All she's always seen in him was a megalomaniac boy turned man, who treated her as his possession.
Way before and after she signed on the dotted line.
She saw him as a man who treated everyone around him like pawns.
"You don't know what love is, all you've ever had towards me was this obsession of yours." She stated matter of factly.
"Obsession that so many people would kill just to be showered with," he retorted furiously.
"Oh yeah?" She folded her arms across her chest defiantly.
"If that's the case, then why don't you get the hell out of my room and go to them?"
William seemed to be at a loss for words as he sat up and quietly studied her.
And when she walked over to the door and held it open for him, he must have realized that she meant business.
Because he stood and slightly stumbled his way out without a single word coming out of his mouth.
She immediately locked the door, the second he was out. And then found a pair of jeans, running shoes and a sweatshirt to change into.
Rosella was used to being driven by a chauffeur to places. But with time, she started protesting it.
Especially during moments where she wanted to be alone.
And over the years; everyone around the palace, got used to her driving herself to whatever place she needed to go find sketching inspiration from.
She drove aimlessly tonight.
Not a single route she took led to her usual spots; by the lake or even by the foot of the mountain.
If anything, she found herself stepping on it until she finally slowed by the Mall's parking area.
She knew how risky it was for her to be in such a busy place without her security detail.
But instead of feeling scared and alone, she felt so free.
Such that she pulled the hoodie over her head, to avoid being easily spotted.
And decided to take an even bigger risk, by walking all the way to the entrance of the mall.
Her curiosity further landed her in the fruit and vegetable aisle of a large grocery store.
Where she founded herself getting creatively excited by the amount of options she now had in mind, for her next sketch.
"Excuse me, Miss?" A man's voice came from behind her.
She had been pinpointed, she thought.
A journalist had identified her. Or just someone who considered themselves a fan. She so didn't want to turn around and confirm the man's suspicions, but she knew that by keeping her back on him- she just might be fueling his curiosity further.
"Yes?" She slowly mustered the courage that she needed to turn and face him.
"Are you looking for something in particular?" A handsome man in his late twenties or probably early thirties asked, with a small smile on his face.
"What?" She frowned.
As she realized that the man didn't seem to have the slightest idea of who she was. She was slightly shocked and amused too, to find a small bag of kiwi fruit in her one hand and berries in the other.
"Do you need any help finding something?" The man's smile grew, as he slowly repeated his question.
As if talking to someone partially deaf.
"Oh, no." She politely smiled back at him.
"I'm just browsing. Why? Do you work here?"
"No," he shook his head.
"I was just grabbing fruit along the aisle, and noticed that you had been frowning at those two for quite some time now. So, I guess I couldn't help but ask." He shyly explained.
"I probably saw it as an opportunity to overwhelm someone with my culinary knowledge too." He joked, and she laughed.
And was pleasantly surprised to feel herself letting loose and freely laughing, for the first time in what felt like ages.
It felt good, despite the moment being with a complete stranger.
"You're a very kind man," she said.
"But no, I'm just here looking for inspiration." She took the fruit in her hands and headed to the cashier with them anyway.
"Inspiration for what?" He curiously asked.
"My next sketch," she grinned up at him.
"Interesting," he mentioned as he fell into step with her.
"So, did you manage to find something?"
She noticed that they both headed to the same parking lot where she had left her car.
Normally; she'd be scared of walking into a dimly lit and quite deserted area with a stranger.
But something about this man was strangely inviting, warm and comforting.
In a way that made her feel safe too.
"I did," she stated excitedly.
"It's so good to know that it wasn't a wasted night trip to the grocery store then," he grinned.
"Give it up already, what do you have in mind?" His curiosity excited her.
Because she couldn't remember anyone in her immediate circle ever being interested enough to even ask about her sketches.
But the stranger here, was. Which was oddly validating.
That's why without a single hesitation, she told him. "I'm going to draw you."