Lily sat by the tall, arched window in the grand palace library, the heavy silence broken only by the occasional rustle of pages as she flipped through her book. Her gaze, however, wandered frequently to the world outside—the golden sunlight spilling across the lush gardens, the distant sounds of palace life carrying faintly on the breeze. It was peaceful, serene. But inside, Lily was anything but.
She was soon to marry Arthur, the crown prince of Nethreal. A marriage arranged without her say, one of the many decisions made for her, as had been the pattern of her life. She didn't love him. In truth, she barely knew him. But in her world, love wasn't a luxury afforded to princesses. Duty was.
She closed the book with a soft thud, frustrated by her own helplessness. But no matter how much she fought to suppress it, a gnawing dread remained, lurking just beneath the surface. What would her life become after the wedding? Would she be nothing more than an ornament at Arthur's side, moving from one gilded cage to another?
With a sigh, she pushed the thoughts away. They were pointless, futile. She had no power to change her fate, even if she wished to. And wish she did—fervently.
The rest of her day passed in its usual, predictable rhythm. She took a walk in the palace gardens, her maids trailing behind her like shadows. They served her fresh pastries with delicate slices of fruit while she sat by the fountain. Afterward, she returned to the palace for dinner, the table laden with a feast she barely tasted. It was all routine, a series of events that required no real thought, no real feeling. Even the long, fragrant bath that followed, where she was pampered with oils and herbs, felt distant. Everything was distant.
And so the days went by, blurring together in a haze of luxury and suffocation as the wedding loomed ever closer. At first, the thought of it seemed unreal, as though it were happening to someone else. But as the preparations intensified, the reality became impossible to ignore. The maids whispered constantly about the grand ceremony, about the guests who would come from all over the kingdom, about the opulence that awaited her. They bathed her in perfumes twice a day, brushing her hair until it gleamed like spun gold, as if preparing her for some sacred rite. Her mother, ever regal and composed, called her frequently for private conversations on "the duties of a wife"—words that only added to the growing weight in Lily's chest.
As the wedding day crept closer, the pressure became unbearable, suffocating her with its inevitability. The walls of the palace seemed to close in around her, every reminder of the upcoming ceremony tightening a knot of fear inside her. She had never truly understood what it meant to feel trapped—until now.
One evening, as she sat in her room, staring at the bridal gown draped across a nearby chair, the realization hit her with such force that she could barely breathe: This was real. This was happening. She had no choice. No escape.
Panic surged within her, raw and overwhelming. She couldn't marry Arthur. She couldn't give her life over to a destiny she hadn't chosen. It wasn't defiance that made her act—it was survival. Pure, desperate survival. She could already feel the life draining from her, suffocated by a future that wasn't her own.
That night, with the palace asleep under the cover of darkness, Lily made her decision.
She gathered only what she could carry in a small satchel—nothing too heavy, nothing too obvious. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she slipped into a simple cloak, the fine silks of her royal attire hidden beneath the rough wool. For once, she would not be the princess. She would just be Lily, running for her life.
With each step through the palace halls, her pulse quickened. Every shadow seemed to whisper of her betrayal, every creak of the floor a warning. But there was no turning back now. The thought of staying was unbearable. The thought of losing herself completely, of being swallowed whole by the life laid out before her, left her no other choice.
When she reached the side gate, the world beyond beckoned, vast and unknown. For a moment, she hesitated, fear gnawing at her resolve. But then, the weight of her future fell over her again—heavy, suffocating. And with a sharp breath, she stepped through the gate and into the night.
The air was cool, fresh. For the first time in her life, she was alone. And free.