Betrothed to the Prince

Prologue

☾Prologue☽

5 years ago

"Stop fidgeting Isabelle! Remember how we practiced," that was the fourth time my, and I say this term very loosely, mother told me off about fidgeting.

“Yes Mother. Back straight and head held high. How could I ever forget such a key principal after you’ve repeated it what? A hundred times?” suffice to say my sarcasm was not appreciated by my mother.

“Don’t you dare show me attitude young lady, especially considering all the letters I’ve received from the headmaster. I wonder how your father would feel about them?” I immediately silenced myself after that. My mother knew how to play her cards and she plays them well. “Very well, I’ll be off now. Remember Isabelle, back straight and head held high.” I had no doubts that mother knew my smile was as fake as the spray tan she favoured so much.   

“I don’t know why you egg her on,” I turned to see my younger brother Isaac leaning against the wall. The suit he was wearing, which normally made boys if his age look stuffy and spoilt, made him look even wiser. At the ripe old age of ten, Isaac was breaking hearts in the Wolven Academy. People flocked towards him because he had that inviting aura and charm that was undeniable.

“Yeah, well you try wearing a dress Isaac and then tell me how it feels,” I wanted to tear this dress apart and then throw it to the dogs. But it wasn’t the only reason why I couldn’t stand still. Today was my 13th birthday which meant only one thing- I was going to meet the Elders. My palms were sweaty, my hair was sticking to my nape and it was getting hard to breathe. Unlike Isaac, the idea of being out in the open and scrutinised didn’t appeal to me. Being the King’s child certainly did have its perks and Isaac used those perks to his full advantage. He drank the attention up like, excuse the pun, a dog laps up water.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining. They’re practically crowning you Queen of the Wolves,”

“We’re Werewolves Isaac. Not Wolves. And I’m not Queen. You never know, they could crown you King.” The look of contempt that crossed Isaac’s face cause me to break out in an outburst if giggles. For some unknown reason, Isaac abhorred the idea of duty and was quite the troublemaker.

He shuddered dramatically and said, “If they do that, there is no hope for the Dominion. We shall surely perish and be reduced to nothingness!” Isaac was a first class Drama Queen, or should I say Drama Prince?

“Nothingness? I’m not sure that’s even a word.” I raised my eyebrow in questioning.

“Eh,” he waved his hand in dismissal. “That’s beside the point. Do you really think they’ll crown me King? I don’t want to have that pressure on me,” his chocolate coloured eyes stared into my pale, green ones with a startling intensity. I honestly didn’t know what to say. It’s not like I want to be Queen myself but I don’t hate the concept of it as much as Isaac does.

“Dear Good Lord! Of course not.  If they ever chose you, the Dominion has no hope,” the grim expression on his face disappeared and was replace by his signature smile.

He shoved me light heartedly and proceeded to call me childish names. Our sibling banter continued going back and forth until the smile was wiped clean off Isaac’s face. An ominous feeling filled me and I knew the inevitable had come. I turned slowly to find a beautiful, petite woman with shocking red hair and kind green eyes.

“Princess Isabelle, the Elders have called for you.”

It was time.