OPHELIA

chapter one ~ disobedient and disrespectful

Bustling through the corridors of the castle, lady-in-waiting Mary shuffled up the mahogany stairs and turned left, all the way down to a wooden door. On the other side found an almost comatose princess. Drowned in bedsheets, curtains drawn and sunlight creeping in, Mary made her way into the bedroom and began setting up for the day. She tied the bed curtains up to each of the four posters and opened the windows. The princess let out a quiet groan, seemingly aware that her day had started.

Ophelia's POV

I felt a slight breeze flutter across my exposed skin, my left leg that was wrapped around the light blue linen. I pulled my leg under the cover and nestled further into the bed. The pitter patter of sweet Mary's footsteps followed from one side of my bed to the other, the side where I was resting. Unfortunately, this means waking up. She cleared her throat.

"Princess, it's time to wake up. The King is waiting for you." Mary said. I remained in a sleeping position, hoping that if I kept my eyes shut a little longer, I could stay in bed. "Ophelia."

"He can wait a little longer, Mary."

"You will miss breakfast if you spend any longer in a slumber, Princess." She persisted.

"If my father is so determined to interrupt my sleep every morning, he should have my bed removed and fill my chamber with only dust. In that case, he would get his way and I would be only a princess, not a person, a girl who needs her sleep." I retorted, feeling anger at the mere thought of being removed from my bed. I had yet to open my eyes.

"We both know that even if you were to lack a place to sleep, you would make us both late every morning." I struggled to hide my giggle, peering at her through one opened eye, only to see her smirking. I pulled my blanket up to cover my face. Mary let out a small chuckle before stripping the sheet from my body.

I was awake.

OPHELIA'S POV ENDED

Back down the stairs and into the informal breakfast room found the King and his wife waiting impatiently for their daughter. At one end of the comically large wooden table sat King Alfred, the other sat Queen Catherine. His eyebrows fell into a furrow as he became increasingly annoyed with his daughters tardiness; one could say infuriated. As the King began to speak, he slammed his glass onto the table, garnering the attention of all the staff filling the room.

"I am going to have to find a way to discipline that girl! Her time keeping is disgraceful." Alfred exclaimed. His words condemned the princess, but Queen Catherine couldn't help but feel his anger slap her across the face.

"You mustn't stress, Alfie, she is just a girl. She will learn." Catherine replied in a calming tone, an attempt to soothe her husband. She didn't want yet another blow out at breakfast between her iron fisted husband and rebel daughter.

The King shook his head. "She is the princess, Catherine, next in line and soon to marry. No respectable man would want to court a lady who has yet to learn such basic manners!"

"Alfie, please, I wish to go a day without you incessant shouting. There is no need."

"Do not order me, Catherine." Alfred rose from his seat, pointing a finger across to his wife. The distance between them made no difference, Catherine felt that finger on her chest, sinking her into the seat."Know your place."

Soon enters Ophelia, wearing nothing but her sleepers, a short sleeved, creme cotton, long dress. She casually sits in the middle of the bench on the side of the table facing the fireplace.

"Now, in what kingdom would a girl want to awaken so early just to arrive and find a King degrading his Queen?" Her parents were appalled at the state of their daughter. Ophelia's long, brunette hair was not even combed.

"Ophelia, are you in your night dress?" Her mother exclaimed.

"I will not tolerate such behaviour much longer, Ophe-"

"Oh, would you two just try to be calm for once? I simply did not want to delay breakfast any longer. In fact, I believe the concept of eating the first meal of the day in the clothes one has awoken in, ones night dress, makes the utmost sense. The idea of a meal as informal as breakfast being eaten in a designated dress is nonsensical. We do not even have guests! I believe you should try my idea, mother, you might find it most comforting. And-"

"Stop with this nonsense at once! Ophelia, you must stop with you efforts to change the way things are done. You will get nowhere with your attempts, except, perhaps to be deemed of the undoing mind." Alfred pommeled his fists into the table, creating another loud bang, the princess snapping her head his direction as a result. The Queen was further uncomfortable, but her daughter felt no fear at the hand of her father.

As if to slice the tension with a knife, a frumpy lady dressed in white and blue entered the room, followed by a queue of ladies carrying stacks upon stacks of breakfast foods. The plates were laid out in front of each member of the family, as well as jugs of water and juices. "I hope this mornings spread is to your liking, your Highnesses."

"Everything looks delicious, thank you Anne."

The King hated that his daughter addressed the staff. It was his belief that the staff were there to serve you and nothing more. He was raised under a King much stricter and crueler than him. When he was a boy, if he behaved even a fraction similarly to Ophelia, he would face severe punishment. His father, the King before him, was not a kind man, and isolated Alfred from everything, training him to be the perfect leader. Times had changed and although Alfred couldn't do the same to Ophelia, he still had the ultimate dream of her being the perfect monarch. Unfortunately for him, it seemed the princess had no interest in following her father's lead, and had befriended most of the palace.

Alfred dismissed the room full of staff with a simple hand, focusing in on his daughter. She was gracelessly smushing fruit onto a piece of bread. He was almost disgusted by her carelessness. It was as if the countless etiquette classes had minimal change on the princesses behaviour.

"So, Ophelia, have you been thinking about your wedding?" The Queen cautiously asked, pre-empting her daughters reaction. The princess promptly slammed her bread down on the plate, glaring at her mother.

"I do not even know any boys that do not work in this place, and Lord knows I would never be allowed to marry them. There is no one lined up to stand at the altar with me so no, Mother, I have not thought about my wedding."