The Fake Bride

“Do you truly intend on conceding to the marriage proposal, Princess?” Trinity asked, as she pinned a flowered ornament into the princess’ hair.

“Yes,” she said calmly, eyes closed. “Yes, I am. Why do you ask, Trinity?”

The maid placed the brush down and put the additional adornments away before replying. She knew it wasn’t her place to do so, but she felt impelled to. After all, she had been in high spirit for naught after bumping into Lorena, who, unnecessarily, had informed her that the packing was taking place for the princess’ soon to be departure.

“I don’t understand. Did the earl not come to a solution with you last night?”

Her eyes only softened at the mention of his name. “Damon,” she said absently, as if she only wanted to feel the taste of his name on her tongue. “He was sweet until the very end.”

“What do you mean?” Trinity inquired with more force, turning to face the princess.

Trinity instantly regretted her curtness when her mistress’ expression changed into undeniable hurt. Then she sighed. “I knew this is how you will react. I dread telling you, since you are obviously against this.

“Damon and I—we have made a decision together, and he understands my predicament. I must marry the king of Elithianora for the sake of this country. I cannot follow my selfish wish and sacrifice those that I love, Trinity.”

Sacrifice. How ironic it was that the word could come out of her. She, the princess, was the sacrifice.

“But you love him, don’t you,” Trinity said, for a lack of better argument. “You will not be happy with a man you don’t love.”

The princess smiled ruefully and did not make an effort to hide her longings. “Yes, I love him. Always have and always will.”

She took on a more adamant tone. “But Father is right. The war has to end, and he entrusts that responsibility to me. I do not want to disappoint him.”

“What about your happiness?”

At this the princess smiled. It was a smile from the heart. “I’m doing it for love, Trinity. I’m protecting those dear to me. That is my sole happiness.”

Faltering, Trinity could only gaze upon her mistress with admiration and fear for her. She swallowed, down her throat, the words that she knew would be useless against the princess’ resolution. “Didn’t he try to stop you?” was all she could utter.

“He did, and I almost fell for it,” she admitted with a light chuckle. “The point is, I will follow through with the wedding. There is only one thing…” Seated in her chair, the princess suddenly turned her eyes on Trinity; she grasped for Trinity’s hands and squeezed them.

“I know it is greedy of me to ask you of this favor, but I hope you can continue to stay by my side.” Her blue eyes were large and pleading, as if it wasn’t already clear what Trinity would choose: stay here and be apart from the princess or follow her and continue serving her.

Of course she would follow the princess, even to the farthest corner of the Earth.

“You must not ask me of such a thing. Even if you didn’t want it, I would still stick to you like a shadow.”

She grinned then, a carefree smile that made her unfazed beauty so captivating and pure. “You don’t need to be a shadow; just standing next to me will suffice.”



The tailors for the wedding dress had arrived in an escort coach two hours after the half-day mark. Though the princess appeared cheerful, even eager, Trinity suspected she was distracting herself by thinking this was only a normal outfit fitting that came every month. The chief tailor, a somber-faced old woman, didn’t seem to enjoy Trinity’s company while she was at work, so she had chased Trinity out before any protest could be voiced.

With nothing to do while waiting outside, she decided to pay Wren a visit. She suddenly had the urge to confide in the older maid. As she rounded a corner, a familiar voice crept up behind her with a distinctive sneer.

“Well, well, well,” Lorena said. “Haven’t we met quite often?”

Trinity turned around, holding her ground against whatever insults that were sure to follow afterwards. “Yes, Lorena. It is quite unfortunate that it is so.”

The round-faced maid shot her a glare. “Since when did you grow an attitude?”

“Lorena, I don’t have time for this. I—”

“It always has to be about you, doesn’t it?” she snapped out of the blue. “The princess coming out of her room, and now she is having a wedding gown made. What is so special about you?” She specifically spat out the word you as if it tasted sour in her mouth, and scrutinized her down from head to toes.

“I bet you are coming with the princess, too. Well, I won’t have a problem with that! I’ll be happy with you out of here, even.”

Of course, you are, Trinity thought. But before she could give a retort, Lorena continued. Her mouth couldn’t seem to be shut even with one of the seamstress’ sewing needles.

“All that you will do in that country is rot. Rot into an old hag, lonesome and husbandless until the day you die. Why would the princess allow such a thing, if she truly favored you? The way I see it, she only wants to drag someone down with her.” Her tone dripped with mocked pity. “And that someone…is you.”

At her sides, her hands had curled, instantaneously, into fists. She could hear something crack—a mental wall, built of her patience. It crumbled and collapsed in a furious rumble.

“At least I have someone to live for,” Trinity said quietly, but warningly. “Unlike you, Lorena, who is only content by affronting others. I pity your insecurity.”

All the muscles in her face scrunched up into shock, her face red with humiliation. She gritted her teeth, her grimace penetrated Trinity with invariable loathing. “How dare you speak like that to me?” she barked.

“I know I am an eyesore to you, so I may as well leave now,” Trinity said. “Good bye, Lorena.”

As she ran along the hall, she could still hear Lorena’s frustrated grunt chasing after her.

This is the last time.



As she seemed to always know exactly where the princess would be at the moment, she could always find Wren in the same way. Perched on a stool at a long table in the kitchen, Wren was biting into a slice of bread, accompanied by a bowl of steaming stew. As of noon time, the cooks weren’t quite as busy, which explained why Wren was allowed to eat idly in here. Trinity watched as Wren finished her meal and moved about to put the dirty utensils into the sink.

Before leaving, she went up to one of the cooks, a young man in his twenties, his back was to her. Wren opened her mouth to speak, but Trinity couldn’t hear what she had said because of the background noises of clattering plates and sizzling oil. But he certainly had heard and turned around with a grin. Wren casted a shy glance on the ground and blushed. Trinity felt a smile tugged at her mouth. She knew what it was between those two.

Their lips moved some more with Wren nervously tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears, giggling with those prominent blush on her cheeks. Then she turned and left, still glancing over her shoulders secretly at him. Out of the corners of her eyes, she finally noticed Trinity standing at the entrance. Confusion crossed her features; then it turned into embarrassment.

“Have you been watching all along?” Wren asked with a pout.

Trinity laughed with good humor. “It wasn’t intentional, I swear in the king’s honor.”

“Oh, no matter. What does it matter if you saw?” she pushed it aside. “By the way, were you looking for me?”

Trinity gave her an unbelieving look. How could Wren tell? “Yes, I was, actually.”

Instead of continuing down the corridor that connected the two buildings, Wren made a veer into the open garden, leading Trinity along. “All right, now speak. What is on your mind?”

“It’s about the princess,” she began.

Wren’s nonchalant expression, when she stared at Trinity, sunk with a gloomy change of atmosphere. “I see. You will be leaving soon.” It wasn’t even a question; she simply knew what Trinity had chosen.

Trinity nodded. “I wanted to tell you before anyone else. This may even be our last conversation.”

“Are you certain that this is what you want?”

“I’m certain, Wren,” she said with conviction, and felt every bits of it as those words rang in her own ears.

The older maid smiled wistfully, shaking her head in a loving manner. “I worry about you. I know the princess is the world to you. I don’t doubt that you would risk your life for her—and, perhaps, that isn’t for the best. But what about your happiness—your own life? Haven’t you ever wanted to marry a nice man and settle down? Will you live without a companion all your life?”

Wren had said what she had heard came out of Lorena’s mouth a few minutes ago. But from Wren, Trinity felt the concern she held for her and not the maliciousness Lorena had exuded. She meant well without Lorena’s ill will.

“To be honest… I’ve never thought about marriage. I’ve made a promise to myself to put the princess first. I am perfectly content with that.”

“I know, I know.” She threw her arms in the air exaggeratedly. “You’ve always been that way ever since you first came. You are a tough nut to crack, my friend.” Wren smiled mischievously, placed her hand on Trinity’s shoulder, and gave it a light squeeze.

Trinity smiled slyly back, wagging her brow at Wren. “What about you? When will you and your…fella get married? It has been awhile, hasn’t it,” she asked with pretend innocence.

As if Trinity’s statement had hit the mark in the eye, Wren blushed a shade darker than any crimson-colored flower. She whipped her head away and her hair fell down in a curtain to conceal her fluster. “What…what are you talking about,” she stammered, fidgeting.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about,” Trinity pressed on. “You and the cook. There’s no need to hide it; everyone already knows.”

“What?” she exclaimed suddenly; her eyes bulged out with a wild flare. “Who knows?”

“Hah, so you admit to it.”

Wren covered her mouth instantly, regretting having running her mouth recklessly. Her flustered expression reminded Trinity very much of the princess’, for they were both, Trinity realized, young women in love. It was a wonder what love could do to a person. It was hard to believe that a girl as staid as Wren would even be transformed into a besotted version of herself under the arrow’s most potent spell.

She wasn’t her usual confident self being around the object of her affection, but Trinity thought seeing her demureness wasn’t so bad once in a while. Wren, nibbling her bottom lip, eventually turned back to Trinity, regaining some of her composure back.

“All right, so you’ve found out,” she said. “He is, indeed, my suitor.”

“Has he planned on marrying you yet?”

Her friend glanced around, as if trying to avoid to subject. “It will probably take place next year.”

Trinity gasped, and it came out louder than intended—almost a shriek. “Truly? Oh, my. Congratulations, Wren.”

“It is not definite yet,” she cut in. “He said he wants a grand ceremony, but I don’t mind a simple, humble wedding in my family’s cottage.”

“So he pampers you. He must love you very much.”

Wren smiled then, very tenderly. “I know he does. He is trying hard for me—for our sakes. He told me he will not bind me to him unless he is confident that he is capable of supporting a family of his own.”

“A family.” She contemplated. “You will have children, too. Will you work here still?”

Wren shook her head. “I would have to retire sooner or later. It doesn’t matter much to me,” she said. “I only regret that you will no longer be here when the time comes.”

“I am, also,” Trinity replied apologetically. “I would have loved to be a witness to your wedding. I am quite saddened that I will not be able to make it.” By then, she would be long gone—off, with the princess, to a country foreigned to the both of them.

They had stepped out the open brightness of the day, back under the roof of a wide corridor. Wren announced that she must return to her assigned task. Trinity offered to accompany her half way before branching off to a different hall to meet with the princess. A thought that lurked behind her mind all this while suddenly came to light and tickled at her curiosity, begging her to question it aloud.

“Do you, by any chance, know why Lorena acts…hostile toward me?”

The other girl raised her brow and made a face that said that she had better things to do with her time than bother with the topic that was Lorena. “Eh? Have she done something uncouth again?”

Trinity was reluctant to answer. She didn’t want to defend her, but she also didn’t want to retaliate against the girl. “Well, she had said something of the like,” she said in a meek voice.

Wren snorted. Her face was an expression of derision. “That girl…will she ever grow up? I swear I will give a lecture she will not forget for the rest of her life.” Wren, with her personality, would do just that. Oddly, she almost pitied Lorena. Wren’s explosive nature, which was rarely released, wasn’t anything one would want to see. Ever.

“Is it…something I’ve done? Have I offended her somehow?”

“No, no. It is definitely not your fault, sweetheart. Believe me,” she assured quickly. “Your only problem is that you are too lenient. Lorena takes advantage of your good nature to push her tantrums over the line.

“I don’t think that is all there is to the story.”

Wren looked at Trinity for a long while, and then she looked up at the ceiling, ruminating. “I think I know the reason. It is only my own opinion, though.”

“Yes?”

“How should I say this? Hmm…well…Before you came along, Lorena’s mother was one of the head maids of the palace. Lorena was, at the time, a playmate to the princess—Come to think of it, she was much more tolerable than she is now.

“The point is,” she resumed. “I think she would have been the princess’ personal servant had you not already taken that position.”

“So she hates me because she wants to serve the princess?” She was still confused. Was it worth it to hold a grudge after all these years?

“Jealousy. Envy,” she named a few. “That is the truth behind her wild behaviors.” But Wren merely shrugged, disregarding Lorena as a problem.

Half of Trinity felt guilt toward Lorena, half of her was glad and proud that she held the title as the princess’ closest confidant despite being a stranger. She could only ponder how different life would be had she never met Princess Farsiris. Would Lorena be a gentler and more approachable person than she was now? Would she be a different person—someone like Lorena who always brood over what could have been? Would their relationship be an easier one?

Those thoughts formed, circled in her head until she was dizzy with the millions of possibilities, and vanished only too quickly. Only one thought remained: she would not change a thing.