Pretending To Be Royal

Vanessa stared out the window, her gaze fixed on the small servant child playing in the courtyard.

The child's laughter, light and carefree, echoed through the glass, a stark contrast to the heavy silence of her room. 

What wouldn't I give to be just a regular girl again? she thought, her eyes tracing the child's movements.

Just a regular face, a regular life.

They had scoured the kingdom for any news of the wanderers who had been burned a year ago, but there were no whispers, no rumors, no survivors. 

Nothing. 

The silence was deafening, a constant reminder of their failure.

A year. A year she had lived with this curse, a year of hiding, of fear, of isolation. 

She turned away from the window, the image of the child's joy fading as she recalled her conversation with Dimitri, his hurt, his defensiveness. 

It was the first time she had seen him so exposed, so vulnerable. 

All because of Fiona.

She sank onto the edge of her bed, her fingers tracing the l patterns of the bedspread.

Fiona. 

Pretty, intelligent, capable of sharing sweet moments with Dimitri, moments that Vanessa could only dream of. 

Jealousy, a bitter, gnawing emotion, coiled in her stomach.

Jealous of Fiona's freedom, her ability to walk in the sunlight without fear, her chance to live.

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. 

She blinked, and a single tear traced a hot path down her cheek, the dampness a stark reminder of her isolation. 

If only I could turn back time, she thought, her voice a silent whisper in the empty room. Make things right.

The memory of her sixteenth birthday, a day that had once been filled with anticipation, now a twisted knot of regret, surfaced. 

She had just received the devastating news that Eric couldn't attend, the months of planning and anticipation shattered. 

Her father, in his anger, had ordered the advisors to burn the supposedly infected wanderers, and she, fueled by her own frustration, had eagerly gone to watch.

The screams, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. 

The smell of smoke, the terrified eyes of the children. 

She had mocked the poor family, her words laced with cruelty, her laughter echoing through the square. 

If only she could take it back.

She remembered the pregnant woman's desperate pleas, the way her eyes had pleaded for mercy. 

She would never forget the sound of the mothers screams. 

The flames reflected in the woman's eyes, a memory that would forever haunt her.

A sob escaped her lips, a raw, broken sound that echoed through the empty room. 

If only I could find a way to make up for my sins, I would. I really would, she whispered, her voice thick with tears. 

She curled into a ball on the bed, her body shaking with silent sobs, and cried herself to sleep, the weight of her guilt a heavy blanket suffocating her soul.

...

"What took you so long?" Dimitri asked, his voice a low murmur as he pulled Fiona into a warm embrace.

"I... I was with Maria," Fiona replied, her voice slightly breathless as she settled beneath the ancient oak tree in the quiet field.

The darkness was soft, punctuated by the gentle glow of a single lamp and the ethereal dance of fireflies.

"I missed you," Dimitri whispered, his breath warm against her ear as he sat beside her, leaning in for a kiss. 

She smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached her eyes, as his lips met hers.

"I missed you too," she whispered back, her gaze drifting to the warm glow of the lamp. 

Her mind, however, was a whirlwind of unspoken questions.

"What is it, Fiona?" he asked softly, his fingers gently entwining with hers.

"Why... why are we always meeting up at night?" she asked, the question hanging in the air, even though she knew the answer.

"Fiona, we..." Dimitri began, his voice laced with a hint of hesitation.

"I get it. I can't be seen kissing my buyer in public," she said bluntly, the words sharp, cutting through the romantic atmosphere. 

Her heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. 

Was this all she was to him?

He looked at her, his brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, a deep sadness etched on his face. 

He truly longed to hold her in the kitchen, in the park, everywhere, even with people around. 

But the fear, a cold, constricting fear of what others might say, of her being hurt, and the weight of the plan, held him back. 

"Fiona, I really want to go out with you, in public," he said, his voice laced with sincerity, his eyes pleading for her understanding.

"Then let's do it! I know it's a big step, but we can start small..." 

She was getting excited, a spark of hope igniting within her, until he stopped her, his hand rubbing nervously against his neck.

"I don't know, Fiona," he mumbled, his gaze shifting away.

Fiona's heart sank. She stood abruptly, her voice laced with disappointment. 

"Forget I asked anyway." She said as she stormed off, her steps heavy with frustration. 

Then, she stopped, spun around, a flash of defiance in her eyes. 

She walked back and then snatched the lamp, her grip tightening around the handle. 

"I'm taking this." And with a swirl of her dress, she disappeared into the darkness. 

"Oh, this girl will be the death of me," Dimitri whispered, his voice laced with a mix of exasperation and reluctant admiration. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.