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Esther
How to survive royalty: pretend everything is fine while absolutely nothing is fine.
Princess Esther Valedara had read enough romance novels to know that no heroine ever found love between magic lessonsand etiquette drills. Unfortunately for her, thatwasher entire schedule: magic, etiquette, and embroidery.
But first, she had to survive breakfast, a monumental task she was forced to endure every day. Just like her lessons, it never got any better. She took a deep breath, grounding herself, then pushed through the door. It was time for her personal hell to kick off another day.
Morning light spilled through the arched windows in soft pastels, warming the carved stone pillars and the long table set for thirty, though only three seats were ever filled anymore.
Esther slipped inside, smoothing her simple blue morning dress, trying to make her footsteps as quiet as possible. But the moment she entered, her father, King Arcturus, shot up a little too fast in his chair, like he’d been caught slouching. Lupin lurched to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“Good morning,” King Arcturus said, his voice far too formal for a man greeting his daughter. He cleared his throat. “You, ah. Slept well?”
Esther curtsied and replied in her most practiced formal tone. “Yes, Father.”
Lupin nodded sharply, almost military. “Good.” Then he sat, immediately stood again, panicked, and sat once more, like a malfunctioning marionette.
Esther slowly took her seat, doing her best not to look uncomfortable.
“I noticed some military marching out earlier,” Esther commented, trying to pass it off as a random, passing thought.
“Just some trouble at the borders,” King Arcturus said. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Esther nodded, biting her lip. They returned to a heavy, awkward silence that settled in her chest. No matter how long they had lived together, she had never learned how to talk to her family.
A servant poured tea. The King watched the cup with the intensity of someone observing a delicate medical procedure. Lupin stared at the fruit bowl as though it personally threatened him.
Finally, King Arcturus tried again. “Your embroidery lesson is today.”
“Yes.” Esther folded her hands in her lap. “It is.”
“Enjoyable?” His tone sounded like an interrogation.
She shrugged. “It’s fine.”
King Arcturus cleared his throat.
Lupin wiped nonexistent crumbs from his plate.
Esther fiddled with her fork.
“Well,” Lupin said abruptly, pushing a book across the table toward her, “I found this. I thought, maybe, you might…” He froze halfway through, eyes widening. “Not that you’re childish. Or that you need distraction. Or—”
Esther looked down at the worn leather cover. He had clearly picked it with care. Something warm fluttered in her chest.
She pushed it away before it could settle.
She had long since stopped clinging to the small moments of warmth she received from her family. They never lasted.
“It’s nice,” she murmured, stroking the soft cover. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Father,” Esther cleared her throat. “The maids have been talking about a new bakery that opened on Round Rook Road. Do you think—”
“No,” her father said with finality.
