Caspian

1

The Kingdom of Prothabia has been ruled for many years by one family line of blood and one family line of blood only, and each heir to the throne has been a man who reeks of male superiority and delusion. If I do say so, for years they have thrown their people into wars and bloody times while they sat in their little towers and watched as their people spared their blood.

I was taught from a young age by my father that those people who live in the shiny, golden encrusted bedrooms and dance on marble-painted floors are evil and deceitful, and that they took my mother's life and love from us, and for that, blood will always be on their hands.

I don't have many memories of my mother; I have distance snapshots that cross my mind from time to time—how her brown hair cascaded down her back, how her blue eyes would stare at me from outside the window as I struck havoc with the local town folk with my town friends, even how I would poke fun at how pale she was compared to my tanned skin.

One day I was running back from the local market, where I had gathered up some fruit, vegetables, and material for her to sow one of her many dresses in the hopes one day I'd grow into them. She was the Royal Prothabia's seamstress, and though she was not fortunate enough to live in those confined walls of royalty, when she did have to deliver and alter, she would always bring me along so that I could know what it was like to feel like a princess myself. 

I remember the last day I went to the palace, The month before my mum disappeared, she was set to alter a dress made for one of the queens sisters, left me to sit in the room and fly away with the fairies until a bang hit one of the windows and knocked me out of the daze, The bang followed a loud shout of the name "BLAINE HENRY THOMAS PROTHABIA What on earth are you doing, young man?!" I rushed to the window as fast as my 12-year-old legs could take me, and there I saw him. 

Blaine Henry Thomas Prothabia standing in the middle of the grass, frozen to his spot, his slick black hair shinning in the sun, without being too clued up on what boys were and how they were supposed to make you feel, I would say now he was beautiful, he stood freakishly tall compared to his friends that were standing next to him, even the girl that had her arm wrapped around him broke her neck to look at him.

It wasn't until him and his friends disappeared from the grass that I got down from the windows and started nosing around at the room I was left in. There is nothing too overly fancy about it, especially when you think how rich they are, You would think, If you have money, then why not make sure the guest rooms are just as lavish.

As I walked into the closet that was bigger then anything I had ever seen, I was met with a loud crash, bang and wallop, I spun on my feet and slowly crept to see what had caused it; it seemed far to close in proximity for it to have come from anywhere but inside this very room.

As I peered over to see what was happening, I was met with giggles and laughter. Two voices whispered to each other to keep the noise down and be quiet. I froze to my spot, subconsciously holding my breath. They obviously couldn't see me as I was still very much in the closet.

"Are you sure nobody will barge in unexceptionally, I don't want to get on your mothers bad side," the woman's voice said as I stepped a little closer 

"There are 6 or more different guest rooms; why would this be her go-to? Have you seen the state of this place?" The males voice chuckled as giggling from her escaped her mouth. I stepped one step closer and slowly as I could stuck my head out.

As I did so, I caught the familiar-looking man from outside in my view as he slowly panned around the room with his eyes. I quickly snapped back, taking a deep breath in and shutting my eyes tight. 

Silence fell on the room for a few minutes; nothing was said or done, and the giggling had disappeared as fast as it had arrived.

Someone then cleared their throat, too close to being from outside, far far too close to not being standing right in front of me.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at the tall build that was now shadowing down over me. I gulped pretty audibly and gave the pair of blue eyes a smile.

From this close, I could confirm that little 12-year-old me had a massive, boy band comparison crush on this presumedly older man. From this close, his build was obvious, though not massively sculpted by the gods; there were some definitions; and I could make out that his chest had been the main focus when working out.

"Hi," I barely audibly got out as his arms folded across his chest and his eyebrows knitted together, frowning down at me.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in here?" he spoke sternly as he stepped aside and ushered me out of the closet that had slowly started suffocating me 

I walked out and into the brighter room, blinking a few times to readjust my eyes before being greeted by a blonde, blue-eyed, very socially beautiful girl who was sitting on the bed with her hands placed on her knees, staring at me as if I were a rat.

"Out with it then, child, who are you and what are you doing snooping in the closet?" He asked as I spun back around to face him, gladly giving the blonde woman my back. I looked up at him and tried as best as I could to give the most innocently motivated child-like eyes you could ever give someone who just caught you out.

Before I spoke, I took a minute to really get a good look at him—his chiseled jaw and now curly black, messy hair, his arms that had just started protruding with veins—not that I knew what they meant then. His blue eyes were captivating; he was gorgeous. 

"Sir, I was told to wait in this room for my mother. I got bored, you see, in a big bedroom with no toys, sir." I innocently spoke, looking up at him through my eyelashes, giving them a flutter, don't know what for; I was literally 12. 

He narrowed his eyes and scanned my face, trying to look for a word of a lie. "If you are trying to find a lie that lies on my face, you won't find it, sir; my mother is the queen's seamstress, Lettie Lovett." 

And from that day on, I was never to step foot in the Queen's palace unsupervised to the full extent ever again, not by the rules of the queen but very much by my own mother, who told me all the way home that I had embarrassed her and the family name by being such a snoop. "They will think we are Klepto's Cass."

It didn't take long until a month or two later for my mother to disappear, gone with no trace of where or why, left with no note of reason or no goodbye. See you soon, just left her 12-year-old and her love all by themselves, just before the war of all wars. 

The battle of Clyvfe summoned my dad before we could properly register the disappearance of my mother. I wasn't sure if he was being forced to live with me to fend for myself or if, of his own accord, he decided that losing two parents was better than losing one, but off he went. 

The war went on for 2 years, and by the time it was over, I wasn't the same little girl my dad was going to walk back in and be greeted by, except he didn't walk back in, he didn't wheel back in, he didn't hobble back in, and I got no communication from anyone, and that's when I knew I was truly abandoned.

Now you are all caught up on the matter, shall we?