𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐜

↳ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Her gown looked like sails as the wind blew it ahead of her in puffs. The original pristine white now appeared cream as the salt of the cliffside and the dirt of the earth tainted her flawless image. Her brown locks now curled around her face, fallen from its restrictive updo the instant she fled toward the rocky crag.

She could hear the whiny of horses and the shouted orders of their riders as they searched for her, but the wind offered a favor of muting them from their original volume. The rain seemed to encourage her decision to flee as the torrential downpour washed away her footprints and erased the scent of her trail.

It was only once she reached the end of the road that she stopped running, but the sails of her gown still called her forward, blowing out over the edge of the cliff. Appealing to their desire, she sat and allowed her feet and the trim of the gown to dangle over the side.

She then closed her eyes and tilted her head toward the heavens as they cried from above. She knew she couldn't escape forever, but even an hour more of freedom was worth everything before she found herself locked away in a golden cage for the rest of her life: a sparrow with nowhere to fly.

Time crawled for her, but not slow enough. The breath of the horse and the rider that approached were equally heavy. She ignored them for as long as she could before finally breaking the unspoken agreement of silence.

"Have you come to take me back to the market?"

"What?" her brother asked in confusion, knitting his brow and stopping in his tracks from the trench of pacing he'd created. "The market—come now, Anne. It's simply a wedding, and yours at that. This should be the happiest day of your life."

"Ah yes," her eyes fluttered daintily but her voice dripped with the venom of sarcasm, "I'm overjoyed to be wed to a complete stranger with the intention of strengthening foreign relations."

"You're being a touch melodramatic—"

"On the contrary, brother, dear," Anne interrupted and lifted a single finger in the air, waving it about wildly, "I don't believe I've been dramatic enough yet. Perhaps I'll simply seal my fate and leap from this ledge and risk fate's outcome below."

"And leave me at a loss for your wise council?" her brother gasped, then mockingly placed a hand to his chest, appalled at the very thought. "That shan't do."

He then took a seat beside her, hanging his muddied boots over the ledge beside her bare feet, as she'd shed the weight of her heels moments after she fled. Noticing the small quirk, he shook his head but couldn't conceal the smile and gentle chuckle that emerged from his lips.

"I don't belong," Anne bitterly admitted. "I hardly manage to keep my wits and dignity about myself back home. How could I possibly deceive the commoners of a foreign power much less its nobility?"

Her brother was silent, but as she glanced in his direction and noticed the wrinkled line along his forehead, she could tell he was deep in thought. That line would only deepen as he accepted more responsibility that came with the duties and obligations of the crown.

"You're really that unhappy?"

She took a breath then nodded her head in agreement with a sheepish shrug. "I thought I could simply smile and bear the burden of my role, but I'm not as strong as you, Freddie... I can't spend the rest of my life as a glass doll displayed on a shelf, forced to watch but never act."

Her brother's face remained stoic and the lines across her forehead deepened. She didn't expect him to solve her problems for her... but that didn't stop him from the obligations and responsibilities he felt toward protecting her. He was her older brother after all, it was the only job he ever really felt successful performing.