Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

The Banquet

There is a hurricane inside of me.

The lightning was just the expelled air in my quaking lungs and the crippling winds that thrashed upon my erratic heart, made the storm only strengthen in my misty fears.

Waiting in a hidden room by the great hall of the palace, my mind played constant loops that smothered my conscience with reiterated and fabricated scenarios of what could happen in the next couple of hours.

Ruby told me that I should be fine if I remember the courtesy and manners of a royal, which she had skimmed lightly over with me today – But to most importantly, stay quiet with anyone who tries to talk to me. It's the easiest way I can refrain from giving away my imitation and false portrayal of someone that I was clearly never meant to be, despite how similar we look – Ruby had even drawn on, that famous birth mark of the Princess, below my eye.

But that doesn't stop those blood-thirsty scenarios, which keep clawing their way into my nerves and feeding the roots of my fears to watch them grow. Sitting on a plush couch, lonesome in my extravagant gown, my stomach heaved and every cheer or brush of laughter that passes by the thick door, feels as if the banquet quests were unknowingly, arriving to my own execution or grave.

My knuckles whitened and my face lost all sense of colour or life in the flesh. Ruby told me to wait here patiently until she comes back to bring me into the banquet, after the elite guests who were invited, had settled into their seats. But that was almost forty minutes ago, and though they all might be, I am definitely not settled.

In the sensory overload that is, the quiet room, my limbs tingle and my brain races in the most unhelpful way as my eyes become wild, searching for anything to distract me in the flowery wallpaper that wraps around this small space.

But in the forty minutes, I have grown the ability to remember where every flower blossoms upon the paper and when there's no distraction in their pastel petals, is when I wrap my hands around my knees beneath the heavy fabric of my dress and begin rocking.

The swaying eventually becomes faster and faster until I explode into motion again. Jolting onto my trembling feet and pacing the room like a horse would pace a stable.

The hurricane inside my chest, swirled as if it has been restrained for time and it was determined to outrun any light that tried to shine within. Above the heavy beat of my heart, the sounds of the banquet, with loud conversations, glass and porcelain clattering and the sounds of strange songs being played in the background of it all, burns into my eardrums as if howling with distaste of my soon arrival.

The sound of it was a strange song, and the true melody was played by strums of guitars and heavy beats upon drums, which played a tune that I had never heard before. The change in atmosphere was abrupt and startling, and I haven't even entered the hall yet. It was surprising to my fear, which was as welcomed as the soft knock on the door.

Her head pokes in and so does her curling hand, "Come. It's time."

I gasp softly beneath my breath and look at Ruby with wide eyes of apprehension. But she doesn't care for my nerves or dismay, for she only grabs onto the sleeve of my dress and tugs me out of the small room and into the now, empty hallway.

As she leads me to the hall, my heels click on the surface of the floors and my ankle nearly caves at this new angle, which the tailor had forced my foot to stand in. The thoughts are accelerating inside my head and I want them to slow so I can breathe, but they won't.

"I-I don't want to do this." I stuttered to Ruby, who's hair was carefully braided once again and her dress was a deep crimson which clashed against the green of my own, but never-less, they were both crafted with hands that were used to the gold which would replace the expensive fabric they had used to create these wonderful dresses, which swayed by our sides.