Chapter 1

Calla had learned long ago that silence was her safest ally in the palace, where every word, like every breath, was carefully observed, measured, and often, silenced. Yet, why was it that a gnawing feeling of discontent brewed in her every time she hear a comment which displeased her? 

She was well aware of her position. The beautiful, dainty princess. The oldest, the wisest, and the best. Yet, all she would amount to is a passing pleasure to the man she would be sold off to. Never appreciated. Never known as anything but a gorgeous flower- a role model for all the girls in the nobility. The head of the social circles. A honorary, empty figure of power. Princess Calla Lysandre, The White Rose.

"With your blonde hair and blue eyes, you could charm anyone. It's no wonder the kingdom looks to you as their perfect princess."

"You'll be an excellent bride one day—so composed and refined."

"Look at you—like a flower in full bloom. The kingdom will be proud of such beauty."

"A princess should always look like you—perfectly poised, graceful, and calm."

Her eyebrows creased naturally. She thought she knew better than this, that she had long left these godforsaken emotions buried deep in her heart. So, why had she let her emotions slip through in that moment? Why had she said "I suppose I'm lucky my beauty is so well-documented. It'll make for great portraits when I'm locked away in a tower somewhere."? And when her parents had rebuked her, she told them "I'm not a doll to be admired from afar. If I were, at least someone would notice when I'm falling apart."

Something between a huff and a sigh slipped through her lips. She entwined her fingers and squeezed them, calming herself. 

"Are you so preoccupied in your thoughts that you did not notice the presence of your younger sister, Sister?" her sibling's voice, laced with a kind of mock sympathy, shook her out of her thoughts.

"Of course my thoughts are not so important as to overlook you, Seraphine." said Calla, in a much quieter tone. "But the question is, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in my room?"

"Nothing. I was just here to cheer my elder sister up after she fell out of our parents' good graces. I don't see what your problem is. It must be nice to have everyone fawning over you, yet you behave as though it is an unwanted attention while the rest of us have to work to the bone to be loved."

"They love me, but they don't know me. They love the image I've been forced to wear."

"W-what? What did you say?"

"Something that I shall make sure never slips past my mouth again," said Calla her blue eyes resolute as she she looked at her sister's trembling ones. 

Seraphine looked at her, her eyes narrowed in confusion and lips twitching, before turning around with a huff and stomping away.

As Calla kept her eyes fixated on the door, her gaze caught the figure standing by it—Alden, the young knight who had sworn his loyalty to the crown. "Why don't you become the Empress?"

His eyes, a deep, stormy gray, met hers without hesitation, and for a brief moment, Calla felt something stir within her—a dangerous, unbidden warmth. It was the kind of warmth that made her question what it meant to be a princess, and whether she could ever escape the gilded cage that surrounded her.

But then, just as quickly, she turned her attention back to her room's ornate tapestries, pretending she hadn't noticed the way his presence made the room feel smaller, heavier.

"A foolish thought" she said, her voice steady despite the flutter of unease in her chest.

"Now, perhaps. But who knows what the future has to hold?" Alden replied, his tone as composed as ever, though his eyes lingered just a moment too long. "Ah, I forgot to tell you. The court awaits you, Your Highness."

She nodded, resisting the pull of his gaze. It was easier to focus on the duties that came with her title than on what he had just made her feel.

But his throwaway remark had stirred something deep within her. Something she had long wanted to acknowledge. "Perhaps the future may contain some unexpected variables after all." A small smile found its way to her lips.

As the weight of the crown pressed against her, Calla turned towards from the window, unsure whether she was ready to claim it—or if it would claim her first.