š¾š¼šš¼šššš¼ šš¼šæ ššššš šš¼ššššæ the crown, it had always been her brotherās burden to bear, not hers. as second in line, she lived in the shadow of duty without being shackled by it, her life a balance between privilege and freedom. her parents called it a modern monarchy, but what it really meant was that catalina could go study in america, throw herself into nonprofit work, and fall in love with the crazy city life and late-night diners with friends who didnāt bow when they saw her. the blonde lived fully and freely - but all of it vanished with a confession from her brother: i'm giving up the throne. one press conference later and everything changed. before she knew it, catalina was back in a palace she once ran away from, preparing to marry a man sheād only met briefly prior to their engagement, her life now scheduled and painfully boring.
tonight, almost exactly one month later, she was dancing barefoot on the lawn of someone's estate, glitter clinging to her cheeks and a cocktail spilling in her hand as she twirled through a haze of laughter and cigarette smoke. the music pulsed like a heartbeat under her skin, and strangers spun around in a blur. she was tipsy and reckless, utterly desperate to feel something other than the crushing weight of what awaited her: a throne, a crown, and a marriage to a man who would never truly love her.
if she'd been paying more attention, she might have noticed the phones pointed in her direction-- the flashes and the recording, people capturing every glitter-dusted twirl. but she didnāt. not at all aware that her small moment of peace would surely make it's way to the press by tomorrow morning.
