The Fake Bride

The sun was shining high in the sky the next day when Trinity roused the princess from her deep sleep. Princess Farsiris groaned from under her cover but finally pulled herself up, and yawned.

“Trinity, my head is pounding,” she wailed, clamping her head between her hands.

Discretely, Trinity smiled. “That must be the wine from last night, Your Highness.” She had foreseen this and had prepared a cup of hot chamomile tea for the princess.

“I was too caught up in the moment,” she recalled, sipping the sweet, warm liquid.

Trinity grabbed a brush from the mirror table and began unraveling the princess’ curls. “The king expects you to meet him in the Study as soon as you are finished with your meal, Princess.”

The princess glanced over her shoulder at Trinity; her blue eyes sparkled, catching light from the window. “Father wants to see me? Why?”

“Hmm…I’ve heard that the earl was summoned here earlier this morning,” Trinity informed dedicatedly. “Perhaps …it concerns your engagement.”

The princess’ cheeks turned a shade of red, but she soon recovered and sprung out of bed. “Please don’t tease me, Trinity. I am nervous enough as it is,” she chided shyly. With her eyes casted slightly and her cheeks flushed, Trinity had to wonder at the power of love. How the presence, or merely at the name, of the earl could make her glow, radiating with joy.
The love between a man and a woman was something sacred and intimate, something she could only perceive through accounts of love stories in books and the palace’s young women’s words and never expected to experience firsthand.

“One day, you will meet that special someone, too,” the princess had once said. “The lad who wins your heart will be the most fortunate one. He will declare his love for you. You will accept it, for you also love him. And then, one day you will wed. You will grow old together, and though you know death is inevitable, the love you share is eternal.” The young princess had laughed. Trinity had only blushed.

Even though she knew a woman role was to settle down and care for her family, Trinity didn’t need anything else beside the princess. Her happiness was only second to her master’s.

“What would you like for breakfast, My Lady?” Trinity inquired.

The princess shifted, patting her skirt and fixing her hair. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry…Say, does this dress make me look plump?”

Trinity, standing at her back, stared at the princess’ reflection in the mirror, her lips twitching for a smile. How could this beauty of a princess be insecure about her appearance? She never used to concern much about her looks, but when it came to the earl, she could be quite meticulous.

“You look perfect, Princess,” Trinity commented. “The earl will not find the slightest fault.”

Princess Farsiris glanced at her friend through the mirror, smiling timidly. “You always know the right thing to say, at the right moment.”

Earl Parlem and his parents were waiting in the Study when they arrived minutes later. The princess’ expression softened at the sight of him. He and his parents rose, bowing modestly.

“Good morning, everyone,” the princess said in return.

The king sat at the head of the rectangular table, nodding at the princess. The queen settled next to him, and the other two princes smiled slyly at her from their seats on the side. The earl’s parents were opposite to the princes, and earl Parlem was at the end of the table, an empty seat waited by him. Princess Farsiris slipped into the arm chair, grinning at the earl.

The king cleared his throat and the attention shifted to him. “Thank you the Parlem family for arriving on such short notice. It was only yesterday that I had seen you.”

“Oh, not at all, Your Majesty,” Madame Parlem giggled into her spread fan. “My husband and I are delighted to be in your presence…and, of course, our son is more than delighted.” She wagged her eyebrow at the earl, her eyes glinted teasingly.

Her son only frowned, but his lips formed a small smile. “Mother,” he said gently.

“It seems the day has come, Sister,” one of the princes said.

“Finally we will not have to hear her complain all day: ‘Damon, oh, Damon, how I miss you,’” the other prince imitated in a shrill voice, batting his eyes like how a woman of the court would to a suitor.

“I do not sound like that,” the princess protested, appalled. Though, it was quite true. “You two are such pests!”

They both guffawed at her now puffed-up cheeks. All through this childish exchange, the king, Trinity noticed, was eerily silent, his face stiff with grim. The queen placed a tender hand on his arm, her kind face a melancholy.

“May I have a word now?” His voice was unexpectedly composed in contrast to the dreariness Trinity sensed emitted from him the moment she entered the room. “And, you two please behave yourself.”

They were immediately hushed, their smirks faded so suddenly that Trinity was alarmed. In fact, everyone was alarmed. Though the king was subtle with his words, something still couldn’t be missed in the tone of his voice—he demanded obedience.

“Father, is something the matter?” Princess Farsiris was the first to break the stillness. She leaned over the table, as if to reach out to her father.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and for a fleeting moment, the saddest look crossed his face. And it was gone once he turned to the earl.

“I have an announcement that concerns the future of the both of you,” he addressed.

“Yes?” the princess asked uncertainly. Now that she had realized the change on her father, she was convinced that this was not simply a discussion regarding her marriage with Damon.

“As you already know, our kingdom has been at war with the neighboring kingdom, Elithianora, for quite a long time.”

“Yes, of course, Father. I’m aware of it.”

He put his elbows on the table, clasped his hands before his face, and peered at his daughter thoughtfully. “We are on the brink of losing the war, Daughter. That much is clear. But last night, a messenger from Elithianora came to the court and offered an armistice. The agreement is not without conditions. If we were to continue fighting, I’m afraid we won’t hold, unless…”

“Unless what, Father?”

His eyes avoided hers and he sighed. “…Unless we send them one of our princesses.”
The princess froze in shock, a cold feeling course through her body, paralyzing her. The blood drained out of the earl’s face. Trinity could only stare wide-eyed at the king.

“How…how can it be?” the earl recovered, but his voice cracked. “The princess is promised to me.”

“I am remorseful to disappoint the Parlem family with my change of words,” he said sincerely. “However, I do not have a choice.”

“No! This is wrong,” he raised his voice, a rare thing coming from him. Trinity had never seen him so angry before. “This is no different from sending the princess off to the enemies and become a hostage.”

“Silent!” the king roared—a thundering voice that made Trinity cringe. “Watch your words, Damon. I will not tolerate such impudence in my court.”

“I will not do it,” the princess muttered, her eyes had suddenly gone cold.

“Farsiris, you must realize your place as the country’s princess. You can’t continue to behave like a child. I have allowed you to have your way for too long.”

The princess blushed, humiliated. The king had hit her where it hurt—her pride.

The first prince rose, slamming his hands on the table, his eyes glinted with a wild flare. “How dare they underestimate us?” he barked. “Do they think we will silently submit to their tyranny? What right do they have to order us around like we’re their servants?”

“Farsiris is our sister, this country’s princess, we cannot give her to them,” the second prince agreed. “The least we’ll do is declaring war against them.”

“Enough of your blind arrogance!” His Majesty bellowed, fuming. “You both speak well, but you have not the resolve to carry out your thoughts. This is the kind of behavior that will bring us to ruin. How do you expect me to hand over the throne to someone who is so reckless and immature?”

The both princes looked hurt. “But father—“

The king held up his hand. “No. This matter will be decided by me, not you boys.”

“In that case, I decline, whether you approve of or not,” the princess said smoothly, her tone strangely distance. “I will not marry someone I do not love.”

Her father heaved a sigh—a very long sigh. “It is not as if I hadn’t expected this reaction from you,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “But,” he said, his tired eyes glowed with fierce intensity, and they were fixed on the princess, whose eyes were rigidly wide, “there is no other way for us. Only you can save us all.”

The princess stiffened, sitting up straight with a jerk of astonishment. The king had—a great shock to everyone in the room— pleaded to the princess. Not once had Trinity seen him lose his dignity let alone witnessing him cast it aside and humbly asked for a favor. A king hadn’t the need to ask, only command.

She inhaled shakily, as if she had difficulty breathing. “Is it…true? Is there no other option?”

Her father shook his head. “I am afraid so.”

Upon hearing those final words, the princess, unexpectedly, merely hung her head dejectedly, her hands folded together on her lap. No one might have noticed, but Trinity, standing beside her, could see the tremor in those thin fingers that she fought hard to contain. The air felt thick and ominous with an unspoken sense of dread that stretched on with the princess’ silence.

When she finally regained her voice, her face was a blank mask of emotions, her eyes no long sparkling with life—they were dead.

“I understand, Your Majesty,” she said, her song-bird voice now empty, as if it had came out of a stranger’s mouth. “I will gladly oblige to your demand.”

“Thank you, Princess,” the king said. “You have done us a great deal.”

“Now that this matter is discussed, I ask to be left alone to prepare myself.” She rose and pushed her chair back, stepping away from the table.

“Farsiris!” It was the earl, calling out to her. The desperation in his voice was hard to ignore.
The princess stopped at the door, but she did not look back at him. She was on the verge of tears, Trinity saw, and she did not wish for anyone to see her in her vulnerable moment—especially not the man she loved.

“Don’t go,” he begged in the most sorrowful way that even an outsider could tell just how much the princess meant to him.

Princess Farsiris stifled a sob, biting the bottom of her lips so she would not give it away. The door opened and she walked out, never looking back. Trinity bowed hastily and trailed after the princess.

“Your Highness,” she started, finally matching her step with her mistress. “Don’t be disheartened. I’m sure there—“

But the princess wouldn’t hear it. One look at her desponded countenance, and Trinity knew nothing she said would make a difference. They reached the princess’ room, and as Trinity was about to enter, the princess turned to face her at the door, which she held on her sides as if to block Trinity’s way. She didn’t look at Trinity when she uttered.

“Trinity, you’re dismissed. I want sometime alone, if you don’t mind.”

Her throat tightened rendering her speechless. A pain stabbed at her heart, and she thought she would eventually bleed out and die on the spot. The rejection hurt like no other physical pain she could ever experience. She didn’t think there was a day when the princess would disregard her as if she was a tool that had gone rusty and no longer usable.

“Good bye,” she said, as if that was the last time they would see each other. She shut the door, building a wall between them. Trinity stared at the hard surface of the wooden door, her feet rooted where she stood. She could feel the hot tears threatening to spill. But she wouldn’t let that happen. No doubt now the princess was weeping herself, all alone.

Sometimes, she hated herself for being so powerless.