A Rose speaks of Love silently in a language known only to the Heart.

Grace Windsor

“If he doesn’t like me- well neither of us get much of a say in anything anyways.” Annabel stops her pacing immediately. “I would give anything to not get married to him. But I have no say in my life.” Annabel’s beautiful light pink eyes look at me, trying to read my expression.

“I wish you didn’t have to get married either.” Annabel looks down, hiding those beautiful iris’.

“Don’t you dare take a bullet for me.” I say which makes Annabel laugh, her sweet and perfect laugh.

“Let’s hope I don’t have t-”

“No.” I interrupt Annabel which makes her look back up to me. She seems scared by my tone, “If a bullet is coming for my head don’t you dare step in front of it.”

She will not end up like Elenore, my mother died inside the day Elenore jumped in front of the gun. “I- Okay.“ Annabel is the only thing that I love in this horrible kingdom.

Well not love as in- Platonic love, that’s what I feel. I platonically love her. Not- No. “Then let’s go.” Annabel goes to the door, her light hair shining off of every small candle littering my room. She is just absolutely glorious.

I can feel my long dress trailing on the dark wooden floor as I cross my dressing room, as I exit through the large doors I feel Annabel grab my hand but immediately let go. “Will they be in the entrance hall?” Annabel asks, her cheeks flushed.

“Should be.” I pick up the fabrics of my dress as to make it easier to walk.

Annabel’s dress is much thinner and easier to walk in, mine is basically a large ball gown.

In a few moments we arrive at the stairs that lead down to the entrance, “I’ll go first. If I scream, run.” She smiles and picks up her skirt, Annabel steps down the stairs and I can hear my mother explaining whom Annabel is.

And then it is my turn. I pick up my long gown and step down the stairs, as I do I see the man I am to marry.

His dark pink eyes go wide at the first sight of me. He is wearing a kingdom worthy suit that doesn’t succeed in masking his seemingly perfectly male figure. His jawline seems sharp enough to cut wood, but as handsome as he is, I feel no attraction to him.

“Hello Princess.” His voice is smooth and perfect, but there is nothing there. “It is nice to meet you.” As I reach the end of the staircase the Prince grabs my hand and kisses the top of my palm. His lips are extremely soft, almost like Annabel’s.

“Yes, I have heard so many good things about you.” I curtsy with my large gown and he bows to show respect, and considering he will be underneath me, power wise. I assume he would be a--what would you call it-- a top.

“And I assume many bad ones as well?” The Prince jokes although he is not wrong. He is said to be very intimidating, and indecisive about his emotions at times. But again, I can’t control my future.

“Well I would like a moment to speak with Annabel.” I say and my mother turns to me, seemingly irate. “Or I could go with Durham without consoling the one person I listen to.”

“Annabel, go into the ladies library. I will proceed to you in a moment.” My mother says, her nearly white iris’ gleaming. “Be nice, otherwise you will not become queen.”

“Yes, and then the kingdom falls. Because father’s bastards don’t count. As I am sure you know.” She glides off, following Annabel’s last movements. “I apologize for my behaviour.” I say to Prince Durham.

“Oh it is perfectly alright.” Durham says as he grabs my hand, “Your eyes, how did- They’re beautiful.” He is speaking of how I have one teal and one golden iris. They say I got it from witchcraft which is just foolish.

“Oh thank you.” I smile as he guides me into the main ballroom.

“Do you know how to dance?” He asks as he takes my hand in his and places his other one on my waist. “Ow, god.” He quickly pulls his hand back, blood draws from it.

“Sorry.” I take a step away, releasing his warm palm from mine. I remove the belt from my waist. “Thorns.” It’s a pure gold belt with golden torns circling it as if they were vines of a rose.

“I see.” He says and grabs my hand, his other hand takes the same position that he had intended before. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He dances with me in the empty ballroom, it is amazingly romantic and his movements are perfect. He is a tremendous dancer. But even still, I loathe having to marry this man.

As he spins me my dress flows, the gown spreading nearly larger than our wingspans combined.

I wish I didn’t have to marry Knox, I don’t find him attractive and nor do I have any romantic feelings. But as he pressed himself against my body I can tell all he can see is my body without the silks and gold.