Thwack! Dust sprayed up into the air from a forceful impact. Soon after, pained groans wafted lazily through the air, whining for condolences. They were drawn out, slurred, and seemingly planned.

"Oh, stop being a child," Ariella scolded, rolling her eyes. She was positioned proudly and confidently over her knightly friend, Sir Kane. With her hip popped, her hand menacingly stood atop it. At her side, her other hand gripped the hilt of a wooden training sword with the tip pointing at the ground.

Sir Kane, handsome in his own ways, cut the act and shot his partner a wicked look, flashing his signature crooked smile. Kane then pushed himself back onto his feet, humorously holding his back with added groaning effects, as if he were elderly.

With another roll of her eyes, Ariella lurched forward, trying to swipe Kane's feet out from under him. The princess was almost able to pull off her stunt, but Kane was just a little quicker to parry.

"Oi! Whatever happened to good sportsmanship?" he interjected, fending off more annoyed sweeps of her sword.

"But I've not ever been a man but rather a lady." She batted her eyelashes innocently. "It seems sportsmanship is something I just wasn't taught," she said, smirking.

Her friend scoffed. "You're not much of a lady. . . " he grumbled, relaxing his stance. "What's wrong? You're in one of your moods," he stated, flatly. There was no malice behind his words, just facts. His features were flat and stoic, staring down at the princess as if waiting for her to open up. He knew she would, eventually.

And with a sigh playing on her lips, Ariella did open up. She carved her sword through the air in a downward-diagonal motion, nearly chipping Kane's shoulder. Almost as if dancing on the tip of her toes, when Kane would retaliate, she'd easily sidestep, slipping out from the attack. In her mind, she followed an intricately planned formation that she was masterfully rehearsing. As if the world was blending into a motion blur, her only feeling was the wooden extension of her arm. The pounding in her chest echoed through her head, while her breathing became soft and shallow, collected. A snake coiled up in hidden sight, observing her unsuspecting prey's move sets. The blood began rushing violently through her ears. "You already know why I'm upset," she started, "it seems like it's all anyone can talk about right now."

Ariella was no fool, but she felt like one as she passed by gawking servants with fiery mouths, spreading word of her fate. She had become a display of a sellout in the eyes of her people; her ears flushed as the giggling of ripe gabfest ambushed her back. Everybody's fool, that's what she had become overnight.

"You shouldn't let them get to you like that," Max Kane, the gallant knight, had stopped fighting, holding the wooden sword by its blade like a halfwit.

The princess shook her head. "The servants don't bother me. I just never imagined this for myself. . ."

"It certainly isn't a normal circumstance," Max agreed, shaking his head as well.

"It's not just that, Max!" she exclaimed with one hand before reinforcing her solid stance, gripping the hilt of her weapon harder than before. "I'm only 20. No, not even yet! The western king is my father's age and devours me like I'm a tender steak, ready to sink his teeth in me!" This time she thrust forward at such speed that Knight Kane barely registered the assault.

In a desperate attempt to save himself from being speared, he jumped out of the way, slashing his sword upward. He watched as Ariella's sword flew from her hand as he nicked the base of the blade, grazing her in the process. "You're the princess, Ari, soon to become a queen. Why wouldn't you want that?" he asked as she picked up her weapon.

Turning around, a new blaze burned in those eyes. A blaze lit by anger and pointlessness. Kane was not the source of her problems, but the princess couldn't help but become angry at his words. She began relentlessly attacking him from all angles; the sides, the air, the ground. They all became pawns in her plan to bring her opponent down. Nothing could stop the drive within her. Nothing could reach her now.

Sir Kane and Ariella soon fell into a one-sided waltz with the princess as the lead. Thrust, parry, thrust, slash, sweep, parry, thrust, thrust, parry. "Would you want to shag a spinster?!" Ariella asked, almost yelling with blind fury.

It was Kane's turn to roll his eyes, parrying another attack from her. "You're no Spinster, Princess," he said.

"Answer the question, Sir Kane," she demanded, staring up at him with such intense ferocity. They had stopped their relentless fighting for a brief moment to catch their breath.  Kane felt proud, inwardly. She'd make a great queen. Though, it was a shame that she wouldn't be their queen.

Feeling scrutinized under her commanding glare, the knight averted his eyes and stammered, "W-Well, Princess, I wouldn't. . . shag a s-spinster."

Seemingly content with his answer, she broke away from him to give him some space for her next barrage of attacks. "That's what I thought. When we were kids, you always made fun of the elderly, and now you want me to marry one?" she asked, baffled.

Kane looked embarrassed and even ashamed. "It's not that I want you to marry an old man, but what other choice do you have?"

Groaning loudly, Ariella threw her head back in defeat. "I don't know, Max. . . I wish Father would have married me off to the son," Ariella stated, immediately regretting it. Her face heated up as she slapped her hand over her mouth as if that'd take back her statement.

It was too late, though. A crooked, sinister smile wove its way onto Kane's face. "The son?" he repeated. "Has the princess Ariella finally found someone she fancies?" he teased, wickedly.

Her face became a more vibrant shade of red. "I do not fancy him!" she seethed, jutting forward raising her weapon over her head. Kane, expecting a full force overhead drive, stepped toward his attacker, bracing for the powerful blow. He parried it successfully with the forte of his sword, watching as Ariella gathered up strength behind the same blow. He smirked, thinking he had her. She's letting her emotions get the best of her, he thought to himself, ready to counterattack.

However, just as she swept her sword down in a graceful and fluid form, her feet side swept past Kane's counterattack, dropping her sword onto his foremost leg. Buckling from the pain, Sir Kane rested on one knee with furrowed brows. Ariella then pressed the tip of the wooden sword against her opponent's throat, using it to guide his gaze up to hers. Give up, the action seemed to command, causing Kane to sigh in defeat. "I'm not fancying Xavier. I'm already spoken for," Ariella said, leaving no room for argument. She then glared hard at her knight before releasing his chin from her sword's imprisonment. "I regret saying what I did," she said, diplomatically holding her hand out for Kane to take it. He did, easily pulled back onto his feet.

"I'm not fancying Xavier," he mocked her afterwards, doing a crude impersonation of her with his hands held up and prancing in place. "Sure, you don't, Princess Spoken For," he then replied to himself.

Ariella should have been offended, but she just couldn't find it in herself. Instead, she cackled like a drunken cat. "You look good as a princess, Lady Kane," she shot back, playfully, before falling silent. A cloud of thick dread formed over her head, raining down heavy misery onto her shoulders. "I really don't see him like that. . . Hell, I don't even really know him. He could be worse than his father for all I know. Though," she stopped to think, "he didn't really seem the type." With her arms crossed and hip popped out, Lady Ariella absentmindedly played with her bottom lip, lost in thought.

Kane sighed, running his hand through his disheveled hair. "If you don't want to marry the king, if he truly is as bad as you believe, then why don't you tell the king and queen?" he asked. "Why don't you tell them how unhappy and uncomfortable you are?"

Ariella shook her head, rejecting that notion. "Before they came, I told my father multiple times that I didn't want to do it! No, I screamed at him, told him I would never marry without at least some semblance of love. . . he didn't care, Max." A shiver ran down her back as a cold breeze angrily blew into her. Red, curly locks slapped her in the face, obvious allies of the wind. She had to tuck the strands behind her ears for them to stop their siege.

"His majesty cares," Kane reassured, "he'd listen."

She shook her head more vehemently this time. "He wouldn't. I know my father."

"Why are you being so adamant?!" Kane confronted his friend. "You say you don't want this, but you won't even try to stop it! The worse his majesty will do is yell at you, and you're used to that!"

"Y-You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Ariella sighed, walking over to a wooden bench. She threw herself into it, relieved to finally be resting. The adrenaline was seeping quickly from her body, only leaving the pain from the spar. "My father kept telling me that we needed this alliance, and I thought he was just being difficult, stubborn. You know! We were arguing almost every day." Her hands flew into the air, expressing her frustrations.

Kane, who had followed the princess, just nodded his response.

"Well, he wasn't lying, Kane. He wasn't being difficult or stubborn. Our kingdom is a scam. My father's been using his own finances to help the other nations, writing it off as "national" assistance because our kingdom barely has enough money to take care of itself!" She was breathing heavy. When she collected her breath, she continued, "The western nation is said to be richer than any other nation and filled with enough resources to support all the nations for years. If I marry into the western monarchy, I will be able to provide for all of the nations," she explained. As she bore holes into her friend, an intense determination lit up her face as she spoke. Her own explanation only served to motivate herself more, but it was short-lived, shattered by the truth hidden in plain sight.

"I already knew all of that," Kane stated. There were no emotions on his face.

Ariella was dumbfounded. 'How? ' was the only thing running through her mind. Nobody was supposed to know. . . "Well," the knight started, "I mean, I didn't know about our western counterpart, but I knew about the North's finances. I'm not like you, Ariella. If not for knighthood, I'd be living as a commoner with my family. . . the nation's dire circumstances were only nonexistent to the nobles. For everyone else, it's just their reality."

The princess hung her head low, staring into her lap. She couldn't believe it. Her people have been struggling so desperately, while she went about her days completely ignorant?! While she was hosting tea parties, ordering dresses for balls, taking trips to the beach, her subjects were starving, burying loved ones, struggling to even afford life. . .

With trembling hands bunching together luxurious fabrics, Ariella began to feel nausea. Sinking her teeth deep into her bottom lip, feeling pain blossom where it once was not. "I-I must go. Thank you for sparring with me, Sir Kane," she quickly said before running away, leaving her friend speechless and alone. Her mind was blank, empty with hollow silence.

✼✼✼

All the princess wanted was to stay locked up in her room, away from everyone, but her soon-to-be husband wouldn't have it. Oh, woe is she, King Zion could be incredibly overbearing. The more Ariella spent in his presence, the more she couldn't stand it. As if he emitted poisonous fumes – she has heard him pass said fumes before, unashamed – Ariella felt sick whenever he came too close.

On the other hand, Xavier was like sweet candies; she just couldn't get enough of him. He came to her chambers frequently to check on her, but he would never step past the door, regardless of how much she insisted. She enjoyed his presence, even when they weren't sharing words. Though Kane's teases resonated in her thoughts, she was very adamant still that she harbored no higher feelings for the prince.

They were simply friends, she would reassure at the drop of a pin.

Today would be a good day, she was sure. Her father had arranged two carriages to take them and their guests down to the ton, Haleston. That was the name of the North capitol, the heart of Northern society.

Natti, the ever so loyal Lady's Maid, carefully selected a dark green gown per the king's order. Ariella had originally dejected the idea, for green was the western color, but she had to admit, she looked good. The dark green complemented her fiery red hair and cerulean eyes. Her father had reasoned that she was soon to become the western queen, and therefore, Ari should start presenting herself as such. The princess hated that ideal, though. Even if she was soon to be the western queen, she was still a Northerner at heart. She hated that her father wanted her to cut away her heritage.

When the Lady-in-waiting was finished dolling the princess up, they both descended down to the ground floor where the majority of the group waited. She immediately recognized her parents and a few of the Western delegation. They were respectful enough, never outwardly shaming her. However, she still couldn't place their names to their faces. Xavier and his father were still nowhere to be seen. She dipped her head as a respectful acknowledgement to the delegation members before turning to her parents.

"Good morning, Mother!" Ariella cheerfully greeted her. "Father," she greeted him, coldly. Her father's face tightened with her response, but he didn't retaliate.

Instead he said, "Good morning, Princess. We're waiting on the western monarchy and your brother."

"Edric is coming?!" Ariella asked, immediately excited. It had been a long time since she and her brother had hung out. After he was crowned the heir to the throne, Edric became busy, yanked from one place to another, never allowed to rest.

"Of course. He will one day be king. This is one of his duties." Leave it to her father to dull a conversation.

"Of course," she said through clenched teeth.

It didn't take long for the remainder of the group to arrive, descending modishly down their grand staircase. Her brother arrived first, and then the western royals followed suit. They all greeted each other and then they were gone, trotting down the road in their ornate carriages.

It was about a twenty minute carriage ride, and it was stifling. Ariella was placed protectively between her parents, while the western king and Xavier sat parallel from them. Edric was in the second carriage alongside the delegation. Ariella believed Father made Edric come to babysit them. Even now, her poor brother never got a break.

"So, King Alexander, you said you and your family visit this 'ton' every sennight?" King Zion asked, trying to break the silence. Ariella noted that he wasn't much of a fan of the quietness that nestled uncomfortably between one's joints. At least, they had that much in common.

"Oh, yes! We, Luminharts, pride ourselves in maintaining good relations with our subjects. Every week, we will visit the upper half of society, those that lead the commoners. Once a month, we take an excursion through the northern lands, visiting the smaller towns to see how the commoners are faring."

A sly glint in the western king's eye. It seemed only Ariella was ruffled by the sudden change in atmosphere as Zion asked, "and how is that?"

King Alexander then suddenly understood. His hooded eyelids sunk with caution, resembling siren eyes. His head dipped slightly, forcing his steely gaze to be cast through his light-colored lashes. "They're faring well, of course!" His voice was hard, stern, almost daring the king to try to continue the conversation. "We already have another excursion planned next month after the wedding," he ended it.

"Ah, yes! The wedding," King Zion uneasily changed the topic, "how is the planning?"

Princess Ariella tensed, sitting rigidly against her father. He seemed to have noticed the strange change but did nothing about it. She softly cleared her throat as if trying to reground herself. "My planning is on schedule. I am due to meet with my dressmaker soon," she lied through her teeth. In reality, Ariella hadn't even thought about the wedding plans. For all she cared, they could be married in the main hall with only those in the carriages as guests. In her mind, her wedding would be the utmost embarrassment, being married to a man her father's age in front of her entire nation. . . the thought was too much to bear.

"Excellent. I, for one, cannot wait for you to be mine. I am very pleased with our welcome to your nation, but I will not lie when I say I'm homesick," King Zion said, dabbing his chapped lips with his tongue. He then slapped his son on the back with a big, toothy grin. "Isn't that right, Prince Xavier?" he asked.

Xavier seemed uncomfortable with the situation at hand. The entire ride to the capitol until now, Xavier said not a word and merely kept his gaze outside the window. Now, although his eyes still lay on the scenery, his attention had been snatched to his father at the mention of the wedding. A small, indistinguishable noise escaped him when his father smacked the breath out of him, causing the boy to turn toward the king. "I'm sorry, Father, I do not know what the topic is at hand," he said, sheepishly.

"I was saying how we're becoming homesick and cannot wait to go home with our new queen."

Xavier was sick, but it wasn't because of an aching for home. "Oh, yes! We simply love our homelands so much. . . lots of good memories," he trailed off, adding a small smile to those in front of him.

That smile didn't reach his eyes though, Princess Ariella thought. No, those eyes were filled with the same emotions that she was feeling. Sickness rolled in their stomachs from being in the presence of King Zion, being dragged deeper into the dark depths, choking, drowning. They both were beseeching for help, for someone – anyone – to notice. They couldn't scream their objections, forced into silence by duty and honor.

The princess, forced into a marriage not of love but desperation with a man who only saw what lay beneath her clothes. . .

The prince, forced into silent submission by a cruel father in order to keep secrets that could crumble their kingdom at bay.

A truly pitiful pair. . .

✼✼✼

How did you like the ending? Were the emotions there? I'm trying to get better at that, so any feedback or advice would be lovely! I'm my biggest critic, though, so I'm probably just being overly critical of my work haha.

I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did consider voting!! It helps so much in getting my book out to more, and it makes my day!! Thank you for reading Princess Spoken For. Until next time <3