As the sun bids the sky goodbye and stars emerge from the vast space above, Ariya took a little stroll to ease her mind. Soft cold wind kisses her cheeks as it guides the leaves and twigs from the old tree to dance so subtly. She began to pounder whether the things she's worrying about are actually worth troubling for.
I am the Sultan's daughter, and I must do what is good for my people even if it means sacrificing my own happiness. She thought. That is what the elders never cease to remind her.
"Right! This is nothing," she mumbled, trying to give herself the confidence she so desperately needs. Self-talk, as they say, greatly boosts one's beliefs and trust. But will it be enough? For Ariya's case, it seemed to her that all of her rights and opportunity to prove herself worthy as her father's successor was snatched away. She felt helpless. All her life, there was nothing more important to her than to obtain her father's recognition. To finally name her as the successor. And so she trained herself well. She guarded her heart and taught herself how to be strong and how to be a good ruler. Strict. Rigid. Sharp like a knife. But she knew deep inside, no matter how she became, no matter how hard she tried, she would never receive that kind of recognition. And she knew very well why.
Not because she is a woman. Not because she is young. It was because, Ariya, is a bastard.
Her heart betrayed her. The wall that she built crumbled into pieces. It felt like someone stabbed her chest so deep that hurt is no longer the word that can describe it. Maybe it was better if someone just stabbed her right here right now. Maybe she is better off a candle with no light.
She looked up, and the light from the stars in the moonless night reflected to her silver green eyes. And without her consent, tears trickled down her cheeks, and a smirk formed her lips. Her feet were glued to the ground, and the silence of her cry was loud. She didn't sob nor trembled. Perhaps she is a stone-cold woman, as they say. Perhaps it is true. Or maybe she simply forgot how.
A rustle from behind snapped Aria into reality. She quickly wiped down her tears and breathed so heavily.
"Princess," a man's voice addressed her.
"Kiriam," she acknowledged.
Kiriam was her personal guard. He was 5 years older than herself. Loyal and honest. A man of few words. Traits, which made him Ariya's favorite among all the guards.
"The Sultan wishes to speak to you." Ariya didn't turn to face him but rather continued to walk ever so gently.
"At this hour?" Nonchalantly, she answered.
"I'm afraid so. There seems to be an urgent matter that requires your presence." She nodded.
Kiriam wondered what was going on his master's mind. Throughout the years he served her, he never saw the princess this way. She seemed lost. The normal Ariya was as he would describe, a lioness. Regal. Always carrying an air of supremacy. Never boastful or arrogant. But this, this Ariya seemed uneasy, laid back, and melancholic. But then again, it wasn't his place to ask. His duty is to safe guard her life. To protect her from any harm that might come. A guess from the back of his mind tells him that he already knew why his master is acting this way. Ever since few weeks ago, everything in the palace seemed to be chaotic. Ever since that boy came.
Arriving at the Sultan's quarters, Ariya stepped inside quietly. Her father, the Sultan, was sitting at his desk looking out the window.
"Father, you asked for me," Ariya glanced at his broad shoulder. She was reminded of how she admired her father ever since she was a little girl.
"Yes, I wish to speak with you. Privately." He turned to face her as he spoke.
His glorious face was now lit by the candlelight. Ariya stared at her father. Tan skin, prominent nose, and hawk eyes that can see through you. There was a time when she felt very little whenever her father would look at her. But now, things are different. The scar on the Sultan's left cheek was a reminder of his fearsome experience during the war. This scar made him who he is today. This scar painted his image. Lethal. A dire wolf.
"The Sultan of the East wishes to establish a truce, now that his father is dead. He wishes to end the feud that has been going on for centuries with our kingdom."
"I am aware." She spoke with a firm voice. She looked at his father's eyes without any signs of weakness. The Sultan stood up from his chair and walked right in front of his daughter and said: "In order to establish that truce, a proposal has been made" he paused and dared to look at his daughter's eyes intently.
"He asks for your hand in marriage."
Ariya didn't answer.
"I guess that you are already aware of that too, right, my daughter?" he pats Ariya shoulder and returned to his seat.
"What do you think, Ariya?"
Ariya felt like she is being mocked. But she shouldn't show that she is crumbling inside, not now.
"It is my obligation to do what benefits my people, father"
"Right, after all I raised you to become a princess of this kingdom. It is only just that you perform your duties well."
"Yes." She answered quietly.
"Especially now that you have find the suitable heir, you need not to hold back as to send me far away, isn't that right? Father?" Her rage reflected in her voice as she spoke these words. All the emotions the she was bottling up until now escaped.
The King was taken aback at her words. He knew that Ariya would find it difficult to accept that boy. Nor acknowledge him as her brother even as potential successor. But the universe seems to mock him. He was ready to accept Aria to be his successor. He was aware of his daughter capabilities. Ariya was already a leader. However, now he must choose between his daughter and his kingdom. It was a place no one would ever want to be. However, as king, he knew that the Kingdom of the East was much stronger than them and if they do not accept this truce, it would possibly mean another war. Death and destruction. The possible end of his kingdom.
"Ariya!" His voice echoed the room, anger and frustration was heard. "You know very well that it isn't the case! You are the princess of this kingdom and you have a duty among your people!"
It was the first time. The very first time that her father ever raised his voice to her. And his constant reminder of her duty shattered her bottle of emotions. Ariya clenched her hands into a fist and she trembled. Looking down, tears flooded her eyes. She felt like all of her efforts were thrown away the instant that boy came. She was insecure, so insecure thinking that no matter how hard she tries, she will never be acknowledged by her father. And now she will be sent off to the enemy's den and will become a wife whose only purpose is to give birth. Her pride was wounded. The composure she desperately tried to maintain was now shattered. She felt small. Vulnerable. Insignificant.
This image of Ariya will forever be plastered in the King's mind. It pains him to see his one and only daughter suffering. But he must be strong. For his people. For his family. And for Ariya. The princess wiped her tears and looked directly at her fathers eyes.
"Then so shall be it. I shall marry the King as you wish. Good night, your majesty"