The weeks that followed Luca's departure were depressing.
I basically shut down.
New guards replaced him, of course, and they were more than capable of protecting me. It wasn't that hard. My waking life was restricted within the palace grounds. I didn't even bother sneaking out anymore. I didn't have the energy or the motivation.
I wanted to keep my promise. I tried, at least. I was simply existing, going about my daily routine as I tried to come to terms with this loneliness.
And then, I got angry.
I began blaming him. Resenting him. It was his fault that I was in this state. He did it on purpose. Maybe he intended to leave me all along. Maybe he will never come back. He was probably having the best time of his life, not having to mind such a troublesome princess.
And then I shifted the blame to myself. Maybe I shouldn't have given him that much trouble. If only I'd been better, more well-behaved, then maybe, he wouldn't have to leave.
I missed him so much.
My mind sort of got into this weird dance of emotions. Anger, guilt, sadness.
Amelia pitied me. She tried talking to me, trying her best to cheer me up. But nothing would. It's not like I didn't want to. I just couldn't.
It took a span of several months for me to finally accept that Luca wasn't around anymore. It was what it was. My rollercoaster of emotions had settled down into a hollow numbing sensation whenever I thought about him. All I could do was wait.
I also met someone new. One day, she suddenly showed up at the palace. She gave me a shy smile as my father introduced us.
Her name was Cecelia Percy.
She was pretty. Her eye color matched her honey-brown hair which ended in elegant waves at her waist. She was only months younger than me, but she was several inches taller than me. She was the daughter of a baron, and my father granted her the privilege to stay in the castle for a while to serve as my lady-in-waiting, and, at the same, further her education.
I didn't need another person attending to me; I already had more than enough. My father must've noticed my unhappy mood and thought that it would be a good idea for me to have a new companion. A girl my age to help alleviate my loneliness. A new friend, I guess.
The palace had many vacant rooms, but Cecelia was given a bedroom that was just down the corridor from mine. I refused to let her attend to me in any way. I was polite to her, but I didn't make any effort to be friendly. She attended all of my lessons. At least my governess didn't have to focus on me all the time.
The royal education wasn't easy for Cecelia at the beginning. She was literate at reading and writing, but the complex lessons on multiple subjects overwhelmed her a bit. Her former education only involved training in domestic skills such as cooking, housekeeping, and sewing. She was from the nobility, but of the lowest class.
I empathized with her, knowing how tedious it was. I felt I was partly to blame for why she had been forced into this situation. She wasn't required to learn all this like I was. So one afternoon after class, I talked to her.
Turned out, she didn't feel forced at all. It was difficult, but she liked it. She couldn't stop saying how grateful she was to me and my father for giving her this opportunity.
I found it hard to understand. Who would want to spend every day of your life obligated to be stuck in a room learning about things that didn't interest you and, in her case, would never be useful in the future?
But anyway, those were her sentiments. Not mine.
As the weeks flew by, we quickly became friends. It didn't completely fill in the hole Luca left behind, but it was enough.
Cecelia — or Cece, as I'd like to call her — was very nice and pleasant. She wasn't like those pompous and arrogant noble children I'd met before. She was humble. And kind. It surprised me how easy it was to talk to her.
Personality-wise, she was the opposite of me. She was ladylike and graceful, whereas I was unsubtle and unruly. She was very pleasant, and everyone took a liking to her immediately, unlike me, who had always been causing trouble. I was often reprimanded for my tomboyish and adventurous behaviors which weren't fit for a princess.
Honestly, I thought she was more deserving of being a princess than I was. Her hair, her face, her poise, her taste in clothing… everything about her was perfect.
During our downtime, she liked staying inside the palace, enjoying afternoon tea, or reading books in the library, while my idea of fun was completely different than hers.
I took her with me once. I convinced her to ditch history lessons to explore the woods together.
She came with me out of respect, but I could tell she didn't really enjoy it as much as I did as we traversed along the prickly path strewn with leaves and branches. She was afraid of bugs and insects. We didn't even make it to the tree house before I suggested we go back for her sake. She was too delicately built for that type of rough activity.
I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, so I indulged in the boring activities she wanted to do. The following months were the longest time I'd spent within the palace without sneaking out once.
Cece developed a fondness for the arts. She enjoyed painting and learning musical instruments — things that weren't available to her before coming to the palace. Frankly, she rubbed off on me. I began enjoying the arts too. Everyone thought she had a good influence on me, especially my father. He was extremely delighted to see me inside the palace, like the well-behaved princess I should be.
I started paying attention to my appearance.
My hair was always neat; my clothes spotless. We would often spend hours in the boudoir, doing each other's hair, playing with makeup, and trying on different dresses. Amelia summoned a dressmaker at once to indulge our whims. I wouldn't have allowed it if Cece wasn't so happy with the idea of designing our own clothes.
I figured I wasn't a hopeless case after all.
It was about time, they said. I finally grew up, they said. Those were whispers I'd often hear around the palace.
More than a year had passed since I became friends with Cece.
Around that time, suitors began showing up at the palace. Unfortunately, my grandmother had decided that eighteen was the right age for me to get betrothed. I still have several months left before that happens, but an announcement had already been put out to the world that the Princess of Ephemere was accepting suitors.
I had no choice. It became like a rehearsed routine for me.
They would send letters beforehand announcing their intent to court the princess, and I was obligated to send back a letter of acceptance to all of them. Then, on the agreed date, I was to graciously entertain them.
They didn't all come at the same time.
I formally received each one in the great hall as they arrived at the palace bearing gifts — flowers, trinkets, fabrics, cosmetics — items that could win the princess's fancy. And after that, we would take a stroll around the gardens while having polite conversations and end it with refreshments by the lake before finally bidding them goodbye.
It started with the nobles. Boys who held the titles of dukes, marquises, earls, and viscounts. I'd probably met them before during my sixteenth birthday, but I remembered none of them. Besides, they looked completely different from before. In less than two years, those gangly little boys had filled out and grown broader and taller. Puberty works wonders.
It wasn't just them, though.
My mind was still the same, but I had grown up physically. Except for my height. The years had only added a measly few inches to my height, which was quite sad. My body had started developing to that of a woman, filling out in the right places. I wasn't a flat, stick figure anymore. The extra weight on my chest makes it a bit harder for me to run or physically exert myself like I used to.
Then again, maybe it's because I've neglected any form of physical exercise for so long that my muscles have turned frail and useless.
They say I've become more and more like my mother. She had long hair, too. It made me pleased, so I let my hair grow out to my waist. The maids loved styling it to their hearts' content.
My suitors were equally surprised when they saw me. The arrogance of being born as privileged nobles was still there, but they'd also been more polite. A little more polite than necessary, if you ask me. They complimented me a lot on my beauty and my eyes. Especially my eyes.
Oftentimes, I would catch them staring at me all over with weird, unsettling, glazed looks. I find it creepy, but Cece says they're besotted with me. Besotted. Ha! What a funny word. It would've been funny if it didn't happen so often.
"Don't worry about it, Lena!" Cece told me. "They're just trying to woo you. They're all trying to compete for your hand. Not only are you very beautiful, you're also the most sought-after bachelorette in the kingdom!"
Exactly, I thought. I didn't know about the first one, but I completely agree with the latter. It's only because of my status.
I had just ended a meeting with my latest suitor, a duke of who knows where, and Cece and I were at the pavilion by the pond. She was giving me a rundown of her opinion of the said duke, as she does with all my other suitors, but I was only half-listening. I wasn't interested. In fact, none of them had caught my eye.
Sure, some of them were a bit pleasing to look at. Features that caught my attention were the eyes, the lips, and even the voice… but it was an immediate turn-off once they opened their mouths and started talking about their ranks and achievements, and how it would benefit the kingdom if I were to choose them.
It was all the same. No one ever asked me about me. It only further proved my point that they only liked my status and not me, Lena.
"Well, anyway," Cece said, looking hopelessly at me when she saw that I had, once again, ignored her analysis. "Tomorrow, you'll be receiving another suitor."
"What?" I groaned.
She grinned mysteriously and shoved a letter into my hands. "This time, I'm sure you'd like him. A prince is finally calling to ask for your hand, Lena! Prince Philippe of Charmant! I heard he's gorgeous and only a year older than you. Heavens, he's going to be a perfect match, Lena!"
Great, I thought sourly. Royalty this time. Princes. Nobles. What difference does it make?