à bas le roi ❦ ORIGINAL STORY

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◇ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

◇ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 𝟒𝟖𝟗𝟓

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For so long, I, Risette Pelletier, watched my life slip away from me, as though I was not the one in control of it. My father, the most powerful man in the country of France, could do as he pleased with me. Send me away or keep me as a prize to show off. His beautiful daughter, tamed and diminished as though I too did not have a soul. His was gone by choice, and mine was taken away. However, no matter how much he beat me and forced me into unwanted situations, I am not like the others. My four younger sisters let themselves be pushed around, but I was seen as the one who couldn't be disciplined. For most of my life, I have been hidden away, for my father didn't trust me in the eyes of the public. He did everything he could to make me obey him, and by the time I was fifteen, it seemed he might have succeeded. Until he revealed to me that I was to be sent away and married off to some rich old man in eastern Portugal. That was my last straw.

I left under the blanket of darkness provided by nightfall on the eve of my sixteenth birthday, carrying only money and a weapon. I wandered through France and nearly made it to Belgium on multiple occasions, whilst doing my best not to get caught by the onslaught of royal guards sent to bring me home. Wherever I could stop and take up camp, I spent my time there training. I found that I was rather skilled with a dagger, and whenever I was caught, I managed to slip out. But not without leaving a mess behind for my father to clean up days after I'd already disappeared.

Over time, after almost a year of running and constantly looking over my shoulder, they stopped coming. They stopped trying to catch me, and I soon found out that my father sent one of my younger sisters to Portugal in my place. It made me beyond angry, but I knew I had to bide my time before confronting my father.

After I was sure they were no longer after me, I 'borrowed' a boat from a wealthy merchant, and sailed the short distance to England, where I bought a small one-room house off of a dying old man, who couldn't be bothered by my reason or my strong French accent. I rarely left the small cottage I now called home for anything other than short trips to the market. Whenever I did leave my home, such as today, I left with a hood over my head attached to the small brown coat I wear every day, as well as plain black pants and almost-knee-high brown boots. I tied up my long, dark brown dreads before sliding on my boots and placing my hood on so it nearly covered my eyes, then I set out to the town market. The marketplace nearest to my home was never held far from the castle. Walk down a few blocks and you'd be on the front doorstep of the English king.

I bought a small bag from a young woman at a fruit stand, also tossing her a coin for an apple off the top of the stack before heading farther down the aisles of food and trinkets. I brought the apple to my mouth to take a bite, but a loud noise directed my attention away from the food. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to the handle of my dagger sticking out of my pant pocket, but I soon discovered it was only the sound of an obnoxious trumpet coming from in front of the castle gates. I merely shook my head and turned back to the stands of goods, but when the volume of the crowd increased, I figured it would be worth taking a look. I pushed my way through the townsfolk, my small frame squeezing through the dozens of people blocking my view of the palace entrance. I pulled up my thin black scarf over my nose and mouth to remain unidentifiable in the sea of people. I was met with a sight I hadn't seen in the whole of my time I had been living in this area of England; the king was being marched through the street with his two children in tow.

The princess, Charlotte, was a young girl, seemingly a year or two younger than I, with dirty blonde hair braided into elaborate plaits falling over her shoulders. The blonde girl's bright blue eyes were pale and shining with curiosity and happiness as she scanned her people before her.