Emery was certain that her definition of a "fun family bonding time" was a completely different one from her parents.

A tired sigh made her body shake as she remembered the fake face she had to maintain during those times she spent with her parents. After ten years of silence, a parenting book must've fallen on Tatiana and Rune's Folice hands, so that the two leaders found out that a child was not left on the face of the earth as a trinket, meant to respect and learn silently until one day he would take their place as monarch.

Now, ten years later, Tatiana and Rune Folice found out about the existence of a parent-child relationship that doesn't consist only in the child's bowing head when they meet in the hallway, or a nod of a head as a confirmation that you haven't forgotten about their existence. If Emery hadn't seen what a true parent-child relationship should look like in her friends' experiences, with Constance and Solana's families, she would have thought that that's how it should be. That's what she deserves.

Even so, Emery loved her parents. They used to be the best parents ever. She and her mother used to have an amazing connection when she was little, the woman who was practically an older version of herself gave her all the attention that the little girl needed.

She remembered everything that happened like it was yesterday. She was nine, her mother loved her and her father was the light of her eyes.

Now she was nineteen, she doesn't know her parents anymore, and everything is dark and gloomy.

The dress on her felt like sandpaper on her body with every step she took. Purple was never her favorite color, nor did she look comfortable in it, but it was the color of her family. It meant everything she wasn't, or she didn't think was good enough to consider herself to be. Wisdom, creativity, royalty, power, ambition, and luxury

Wisdom? Never in her wildest dream. Emery started her formal studies at the age of 9, when her mother thought there is no more the little princess could learn from her, and it's time for a serious tutor to put his hands on the princess's education. That's how Emery found herself and her own brain at the mercy of two hands thin and tormented with scars and wrinkles as evidence of all the books these bones had held, and the eyes of the individual have witnesses. Hands forged by the gods themselves to mold the minds of the royal family. Lord Gabrielle was her father's former tutor.

Her father and his brother's tutor.

The young girl was definitely not achieving the man's expectations as the new heir to the throne, constantly comparing her with her uncle or father, who apparently were his pride and joy. Emery hated his lessons. She always wondered why her mother couldn't teach her all the nonsense Lord Gabrielle was indulging her with. Tatiana's lessons were always so fascinating and the pair had a blast every time when her mother was her tutor. She never got bored, wanting to know more and spend more time with her nose in a book back then. Now, she found no joy in studying.

She would rather spend time with her best friend, who Emery thought was going to join her in her studies as soon as possible, but the girl had already chosen her path in life, one rather different from what the two girls knew until the age of seven. Now, while studying with Lord Gabrielle and trying not to sleep at every lesson, Emery only saw her friend on holidays or birthdays. It was surely not what she thought her early teenage years were going to be.

Lord Gabrielle was one of her biggest nightmares. Once he lost his patience, which by the way, happened very fast, and brought a new item with him to his course. His favorite, as he recognized once with his own mouth. She heard stories about it from Constance and Solana, but until she felt it on her own skin, she didn't believe it. The young princess thought that a whip was used on disobeying animals or criminals, not on poor girls who cannot quite understand a mathematics problem like Emery.

Emery once feared losing one finger. An important one in particular of her left hand. From a very young age, the princess wrote only with her left hand, a fact to which her mother did not pay much attention, but which annoyed Lord Gabrielle to the utmost. He made sure to erase every piece of his little student that wasn't perfect. Or at least that's what he thought, because Emery Folice remained the same left-handed, humming and joking that her mother and her friends have modeled.

"You are as wise as a tiger on a tightrope!" the man said to her on her thirteenth birthday. "Myst, have mercy on me and take me to her before you get to rule this kingdom, so I don't have to see the madhouse you are going to turn it into!"

Crown Princess Emery of the Folice Kingdom was not the wise, smart girl who was going to keep the peace her ancestors brought to her kingdom centuries ago. Lord Gabrielle was right with that one thing.

Benji was the wise one in her group. You would think Solana owns this spot, but no. You couldn't be more wrong thinking that. After two glasses of her favorite alcoholic drink, which she herself named a long time ago 'dragon's cry' for some reason, the serious and fierce knight she turned herself into was instantly gone, and Emery's best friend was back in the house being the soul of the party. Benji kept everyone on track, being the mother of the group, since Solana, although wearing the pants in the relationship, is obviously the father who is dragged onto the shits their kids were pulling. Benji was there all the time, with some boring advice which would later make him say "I told you so!" after no one listened to him, but everybody wished they did. Benji came with the rational plan, while Solana came with the bloody murderous one, and after some arguing, they merged the plans into the one that saved their asses. The Mother and Father of the Kings guard. Partners in crimes and stealing the sweets from the kitchen. Even the knights who had a higher rank than them feared the due most of the time.

Emery was very prideful when it came to the two of her royal guards. Her best friends. Her childhood friends. They were raised together. Benji and Solana are her brother and sister. They hated and loved each other, like very siblings would, but they always returned to each other's side.

Creativity? She could literally hear Loris, or how her father used to call him all the time, since he was a little kid who would crack jokes to whoever had the patience to listen, Foxy, laugh in her face, his laughter being even sharpened, as if you had breathed into fire, by the redness so evident in her cheeks. Emery loved to joke around and make people she loved laugh, because they were the only ones who could understand her cheeky humor. No one laughed harder at her stupid joke about pastas than Solana and Loris did. She tried to be herself in the circles full of nobles and impertinent people with their noses up, cracking a cheeky joke when she felt comfortable enough around those people, but she immediately found herself isolated in a bubble of helplessness when her joke was not as appreciated as she would have been if her friends were in the place of the people around her.

As she tried to find something she would be good at in her early teenage years, she tried painting as a possible hobby. It couldn't be that hard, right? She saw her cousin lost among brushes and watercolors all day long, her fingers blue or purple all the time and her face spotted with spots that could sometimes be mistaken for freckles, but who knew her knew very well that they were other paint spots , proof that the little princess spent the whole day with the brush in hand. Her cousin did it with such ease that Emery was left with the impression that painting was the most basic hobby she could choose. the safest option. So, she did. She tried painting, asking for a few short lessons from the said girl, with whom Emery shared her blue curly hair. If it weren't for Emery's brown eyes, the two could be easily mistaken as sisters.

Emery got bored of painting as soon as she was left alone and she couldn't copy every move her cousin did, being too scared to take her chance, to make a mistake or to draw some ugly monster on her sheet of paper who wouldn't let her sleep at night. She wanted to do something beautiful, perfect even. Something that her mother would put in a frame as soon as she sets her eyes on it. When the other princess told her that art is about finding peace and being able to express yourself freely, Emery laughed her stomach out and stopped only when her cousin started to question her sanity.

She was lucky that her cousin still talked to her after the stun she pulled. If she ever found herself in the position she put the bluenette, having someone laugh their ass off when she talked with so much clatter and joy about her passion, she wouldn't have reacted so gracefully. Her quest to become an accomplished artist flew out the window faster than a lover would dive at the front door opening and a possible husband would return home.

Music was cut out of the list long beforehand, as her mother believed that every lady who respects herself must learn how to play at least one instrument, if the voice is not to her advantage, and tried to teach her how to love the keys of the piano as the faithful bowed to some deity. Tried is the key word in every aim Queen Tatiana made, because no result that could make her hum with satisfaction and pride in her daughter came from each attempt. They gave a chance to the flute and violin too, but the whole palace came to an agreement that the one who dared to trust Princess Emery with any kind of instrument from now would have their hands broken, just like Emery broke in two halves the flute made of iron and the poor violin made of wood.

Loris, also known as the sly and clever Foxy, the jokester of the Folice Palace and one of her closest friends, was the creative one. He could even make Solana, the Queen of Seriousness and Spoil the mood. to burst out in laughter like she heard the dad of all the funny jokes, so he was clearly good at what he was doing. Her father loved the jokester like he was his own son. Emery can't quite remember how the pair became so close, since in the stories she heard about jokesters they were always mistreated and ended up having an unthinkable death, but she was happy that wasn't the case of her clown in question. That she was grateful for.

The jokester was the princess's first lover. They were both sixteen, drunk, at 4 a.m. in the morning after they stole from Sir Orlo's good old wine, and very horny. That first clumsy and childish love in which you fool around and get to experience a bit. Learn to know your body and what pushes your buttons, turning you on so you would lose control. Idyll that could literally destroy her reputation and ruin her forever, if she would be a simple lady like Constance was, but since she was a Princess maybe she would get away relatively clean from this type of situation. Maybe that's why she ended the little fling they had going. Because of fear. Loris had no title, no lands or money that could help her kingdom in any way. Jokes can be funny and helpful, but they won't put food on the table for her people. Emery knew she probably won't marry for love, but she didn't care. She was raised to become a wife before anything, because if it wasn't for her title and the fact that she was an only child, this would be the thing on which her entire existence would depend. Marry and breed. Pass the name. Secure the line.

Emery loved Loris. For a long time, she thought she wouldn't be able to love someone else, at least not in the same way. Sometimes, she still thinks that way.

Constance was ambitious. Her mother was the definition of royalty. Her whole family lived in luxury since the beginning of time, the Folice House being considered blessed by the creator of the Folice Kingdom. Solana was the power. She was Emery's sword and shield.

Everyone had a part, one which was supposed to be played by her. Watching her family and friends carry all the things that should fall like a heavy, well-fed horse on Emery's shoulders, the girl couldn't help herself and think that her place isn't here, as she doesn't seem to play an important part besides carrying a name and looking pretty on her balcony meeting with their people. She wanted to do something meaningful with her life. Something that would make her feel alive. Something that would make her blood boil in her veins. Something wonderful.

If she can't have all of that, then she can be happy with the boring and sad life of the Queen too. Being able to have both things is a dream becoming reality. Her mother is doing it, and she seems bored just 25% of the time. The Folice women were raised to play the part of the queen consort. Not many Regent Queens were written in the history books she read, but the ones they got rocked the entire world in their period of reigning. There were two official ones, although some Queen consort took the reins of the kingdom once their husbands couldn't forfeit the part anymore, and their heirs weren't ready to step on the throne yet. One of the two was actually The Folice Witch herself. The one who founded the three realms of this continent. She ruled over the Folice Kingdom for almost 200 years, until one day, long after her sons, the rulers of the other two kingdoms, passed away, the witch found her end killed by longing for her beloved sons, and her lover and left her hard work, the beautiful and peaceful realm she created, on the hands of her most trusted subject. Her ancestor.

They say the Folice royal family had an incomparable and gorgeous blue hair, like the sky from which it was rumored the Folice Witch was born from, passed on generation after generation, and now millions of years later she and her cousin, the current future of the whole family, still carried the long and curly watery blue hair and those aquamarine eyes, who men use to say are like a siren's song when the women baird them. It was said that they were blessed and the Folice witch watched over them, protecting them. And since every ruler who sat on their kingdom throne had that signature hair and eyes, the people couldn't do anything but believe in these sayings, passed on to them by their own ancestors.

Maybe she was overthinking everything again. Maybe she spent too much time between history books, trying to learn the past of the realm that one day would be in her pretty, thin and small hands. She had too much information in her brain, and no people to share it with, since Solana wasn't around at the moment, Benji was being an insufferable prick, and Constance was nowhere to be found. Maybe she needed some quality time with her mother and father, since she can't really remember the last time she smiled around them without forcing her lips to light up. Maybe, even at 19 years, Emery was still a child who craved her parents' love like a fish on land struggling until the water touched its scales again.

Maybe that's why she wanted to run away. To find that parental love, her heart needed so badly from someone who was willing to give it to her, but they were deprived until now.

As she approached the dining room, she hated herself for thinking all of that. She hated the thoughts that made her feel ungrateful, although she is very grateful for every little and big thing that comes and leaves her life.

Sir Benji walked right behind her, only a few steps stopping their elbows from touching. A smug smirk was coloring his lips, as well as annoying his mistress, as he just won an argument they had on their way to the door. That was the unlucky part of having one of your best friends as your royal guard, Emery thought. Usually, she was relieved by the fact that Benji threw away out the window all the formalities and shields a knight should have in front of their sovereign, and acted like what he truly is to her. A friend. A brother. Now though, she wished Dame Solana was here to put him in his place because of his arrogance.

She knew her knight abandoned his position as her royal guard for a few seconds so he could be her friend and help her relax, since it was clear like water, the princess was stiff as a mule, but it was like his teasing stressed her out more. Benji needed to take courses of teasing from Constance, because his word of teasing only consisted of reminding her that she needed a husband to occupy her time so she wouldn't have the stupid idea of ​​running out the window into distant fields. Sometimes it would bring a smile to her face, and maybe that was what encouraged him to continue with this stupid subject, but on times like this, it could only leave her with a sense of unease.

As if a husband could handle her on times like this. Not even she could control herself, but then a husband. She was beginning to think she had made a mistake in calling Benjiro the wise one in their group of scumbags.

Two large doors of a wood so dark that it might easily be mistaken for the black metal of which the thrones of the two rulers, Emery's parents, are made, were opened by two knights, seated before the doors as two trinkets, one of them announcing the coming of the princess into the room.

As if her parents needed to be reminded that their daughter's name was Emery and not Priscilla.

"My King," the princess bowed knee-deep to the man seated at the head of the table, before turning to the woman examining her from the other head of the table to repeat the motion. "My Queen."

King Rune gave the girl a sweet smile, one that she had not seen in quite a while, causing her to immediately look down to avoid the cloudless sky-blue eyes, a pang of anxiety weighing on her shoulders. His eyes looked clear, bright, as if the taint of addiction hadn't hit them in the cruelest ways possible, but Emery still chose to keep the protective shield around her mind.

"Take a seat, daughter." was all he said to her, pointing to one specific chair, right beside him.

That's how every night, when her father decided family bonding time was necessary, went. She was being brought before them, as if she had to be called to account for something she had done, but she didn't know, then the king allowed her to sit next to him, and she spent the rest of the dinner forcing herself to chew the food what was being put on her plate as if the restraint and awkwardness were not in the air the whole time. The anxiety and restraint were always there. They never left her.

She couldn't help herself but be like that, putting a shield around her mind, desperate to protect herself again and again from being touched. From being hurt, not physically, but mentally. Because she truly loved her father despite everything, but being around him openly, without any filler or facade, was not worth the shot since ending up being thrown back again in a merry-go-round with depression and insecurity was a huge possibility with him around.

Maybe she was being cruel toward her parents. Maybe she was the problem, being so stubborn, letting the past sicken her present thinking so that she no longer found room in her heart to forgive and forget. For a new beginning. To be the family they once were again. So long ago. Maybe they are going to finally have that reconciliation dinner, where all that was left to rot and die is going to be treated and her little cold heart will bloom again with all the love and all the care she thought she had lost when she was nine, foolish and a child.

Peace and quiet. That's all that she hoped for, as she took her seat next to the king, giving a grateful smile to whoever just placed the food in front of her in another attempt to avoid her father's prying blue eyes.

"How was your day, my dearest?" he asked the girl, making every wish Emery had of having a peaceful and acceptable time in her books, dinner vanish before her eyes.

Oh, well. A harmless question, right?

"As exquisite as it can be, father!" was her everyday answer.

The safest answer. The one that offers her some peace of mind, because it always works.

"Glad to hear that," his voice was soft, the smile tattooed on his lips echoing in his voice. "Are your studies going well?"

"Yes, father."

"Do you like the new dresses I bought for you?"

"Yes, father."

"How's your food? Do you like it?"

"Yes, father."

Playing safe was the only way Emery knew to play when her father was in the game as the opponent, and in the last ten years, the opponent was the only role he ever took in her games.

"Like you care about how her day went or if she enjoys her dinner and likes her dresses." her mother, Queen Tatiana mumbled from her seat, waking the danger alarms in her daughter's head to reality, who remained stuck in her chair for a few moments, her fork between her fingers and her mouth slightly open.

"Of course, I care, my queen!" he replied, without sparing his visibly irritated wife a glance, ignoring the arrows on fire her eyes threw at him. "She's my little girl!"

"Was she your 'little girl' when you called her a bastard?" the queen dropped the bombshell that made the young princess's appetite disappear into the water of Saturday, as if it had never existed.

Oh, shit. So, it was one of those nights.

'That went down really fast,' Emery couldn't help herself but think.

Looks like one of this trio couldn't play nice happy family anymore.

"Tatiana!" The king almost jumped out of his chair, his eyes widening at his wife's hard and cruel words, as if he never expected her to shoot her venom right in front of their daughter's pretty brown eyes.

Emery could only let out a long, loud sigh, slamming her back against the upholstered back of the chair, ignoring the punch of anxiety and panic that had just hit her guts.

Nothing she hasn't heard before. Nothing she hasn't felt before. Nothing she couldn't carry on her own feet.

Even when it stabs like an ice stake and cuts like a bloody sword on fire.