The Royal Love Game

Prologue

Before my father passed away, he would always tell me,

"Lorelai, love has both its advantages yet consequences, no matter who and what the mortal is."

I never understood what he meant, and I still don't. In my kingdom of Methia, I was always illustrious to be such a beauty in the crowds, not because I was the royal highness, but because of my great diamond-like eyes and golden hair. I was notable for being "an angel from heaven" or "a great goddess of all the world's beauty." Many of the townspeople knew that I never failed to get their attention, especially the gentleman, who grew feelings towards me, but the truth was that I developed no true taste for any males in the kingdom, even though it is mandated to marry someone who later emerges to his majesty of Methia. I never fell in love with any male being in the kingdom, not even as a child. When I received gifts from the nice men in the town square such as roses, chocolates, or jewelry, is just a reinforcement for being her highness. Both my mother and father told me delightful stories of Romeo and Juliet and told me that I would have my very own love story, but I agree with them. So why my bitter sense of love? It was simple: I had no interest in falling in love and did not believe in "love at first sight." Plus, being her highness was more important. I had to focus on my studies and academics to be the soon-to-be majesty.

After my father's death, my mother (her majesty of Methia) grew distant and separable, towards her own daughter. and do not speak a word to each other and when we do, it all goes downhill. Me and my mother would argue day after day about me not being sophisticated or refined. She wanted me to be perfect, not simply good, perfect. I already knew that anger and grief got the best of her, and she would put it all on my chest. My reputation was wrapped around her fingers, and I felt like her puppet on strings other than her own child.

Back when my father was still alive, my mother and I used to grow close and loved each other dearly. I remember the times we would go into the royal garden and pick out roses and taste honeysuckle. Some days, we would sit under the cherry blossom tree and stare at the tropical colored sunset with bright shades of red, pink, yellow and orange, our favorite colors. When I was 3 years old, I climbed up the tree while my mother was silently reading a book. I then stepped on this loose branch which broke off, causing me to fall 10 feet from the ground. My mother immediately heard me land in the dirt and rushed to me as I cried, knowing that I must have broken my leg. Tears poured down my face as the pain ran all over my left leg and my mother hugged me as I cried. This was a memory I keep looking back on since I remember how my mother's hug was so soothing and gentle. The way she rubbed my hair and calmly shushed me made the anguish fade away. It was as if my mother could heal me like magic and her kindness and generosity made my tears dry out. The stitches on my leg still stand to this day which remind me of the hero she once was.

My father's funeral was one of the worst days for both of us. An hour after his coffin was buried, I would peek through her bedroom door of her crying for what seemed like hours. I remember walking up to her and patting her on the shoulder, saying that it was going to be . She kept crying and whispered, "Lorelai, please.... let me be...."

"No mommy, I want to stay here with you," I complained.

"Lorelai....," my mother said.

"I'm not going to leave you here in a bad state," I said.

"Lorelai....," my mother said as she started to lose her patience.

"Mommy, I want to help y-," I said.

"I don't need help Lorelai! Do as I say! Get out, get out," my mother suddenly snapped.

I was quickly shocked by my mother's outburst that it scared me to the core as this was the first time my mother made a fuss at me. I was shaken and tears dripped and formed in my eyes as this was the worst pain to feel from the person I relied on the most. I ran out the door, crying and this was just the beginning of our cold isolation.