𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞: 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝓇𝓎 𝐼𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓂 𝐵𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓇, 30. 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: f
↳𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭: Young prince has to marry, and so, a bride must be selected from one of the many families at court. Catch is, the lovely lady must pick a ring out of ten, the one that chooses the right one will be chosen to betrothe the sole heir of the kingdom.
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･ﾟ° ☾ ༓ △ A year has gone and not one of many ladies at court has chosen right. Young prince had been excused from choosing a bride since no other has selected the ring he had picked and placed upon a marble altar for all to see. This year, he knows no other will find the correct one... the key to his heart and promise of a future alongside a king. Nine out of ten rings are grand, some, more than others, gemstones and gold, brilliantly placed so none out of nine families picks correctly.
His mother, former queen of the lands, had come from a humble villa. His father had traveled across territories long ago, and so, they met and married, the ring that has placed amongst others is the one that has been gifted from his father at that time, humble... unpretentious, a sincere symbol of genuine sentiments and avowal of affection.
❛ I am telling you, we’ll celebrate tonight... another successful year of being unmarried to some self-seeking, spoiled aristocrat ❜. Henry whispers to his best friend since childhood,waiting as the ladies from court are brought to the mid of the throne room, one after the other walking to chose their ring. No one would ever think a prince would place a frail golden band with stars caved and a single, very small emerald to adorn. ❛ If they do chose, then I promise I’ll give my heart as a whole... then I’ll believe there is fate after all ❜.
"it's hard to breathe," she quietly grumbles, and as she reaches for her back that demands freedom, her gloved hand was swatted away with the feather fan of her mother. ara planned to make a face at the matriarch but with the older woman's steely stare, no words were needed to be uttered. be a proper lady, i beg of you. she straightened her back, smoothened her evening gown, and tucked any locks behind her ear that has probably strayed away from her intricate hairstyle. just one more year and you're out. she kept saying to herself. the stash of jewels her late grandmother has bestowed upon her crossed her mind, the unassuming pouch hiding behind the boxes of her winter clothes. domestic bliss is the last on her list. ara knew what is out there, travelling across oceans and discovering new places and meet people that embody different traditions and cultures is what she had always dreamed of. just like the accounts from her father's journals. alas, a hurdle is blocking her way to reach her long-awaited adventures. a well-known tradition that has shaken the nobility. a chance to become royalty. she couldn't care any less. ara does not see the significance of being one of them. to her, these just pose more cuffs and chains that will bind her down to this place. it is harder to understand her mother. her crazed obsession on power and reputation. perhaps if father would still be around.. her fleeting thoughts were abruptly cut short once their house was called. she was supposed to attend the previous events but has managed to escape by hiding at her aunt's house in the countryside. to save face, she was reported to be too sickly to attend. not wanting to be the next queen and bear the next heir must be too preposterous for her mother's reasoning. ara slowly and carefully walked across the ballroom. she can feel the eyes around her, following her every move. hushed whispers reached her ears but were too garbled for her to comprehend. before her was an opened box, showcasing an array of rings each grander than the last. talks have been circulating that the correct ring varies on the phases of the moon or how the recent harvest has fared. some speculate that the right one is the one that matches the prince's eyes. but so far, none of the houses has gotten it right. impractical is what ara had first thought of on the rings before her. although some of them could probably be more than enough to buy her freedom. away from the critical eye of her mother and the suffocating responsibilities they have imposed upon her. she could just pick whatever, right? but what if she chose the right one? surely, the fate would jest. there is no way that would happen. browsing carefully on the selections, she chose the simplest one of them all. it is simply the one that she would prefer on wearing on a regular basis. there was no need of her to think this through. she merely followed her heart. she presented the ring she has chosen to the surveyors and bowed as gracefully as she can. the classes on etiquette were too strict and rigid when she was young that ara can now be a lady even in her sleep. at least she wouldn't embarrass her mother any further than this. "i, lady ara of the house of moon, present to you the ring that i have chosen." may heavens bless upon her. just one more year.
