waning moon : chapter one
Description
Princess Enid Sinclair is far from being the heir to her family name. She was brought up to be married off to some nice Prince that could bring greater fortune to her family. The thing is, really, she kind of hates her family. And she most definitely does not want a Prince. Enter; Wednesday Addams, heir to the Addams name, Lady of the House of Shadows and Macabre.
It started very simple. One very annoyed and lonely princess, the cliche of the century, to the point it didn’t warrant a tale or a song. Her brother, not the eldest, but the one in the middle, had gotten married a few months back. It was only a matter of time before Esther Sinclair became annoyed with her only daughter not having a husband at the old age of 21. A travesty, in their time. She thinks that it shouldn’t matter. She was not the heir, she held nothing. No title, no name that mattered. Of course, that’s never how things worked.
Enid was a pawn. She always had been, and always would be. Marriage was not some arrangement of love, or devotion. It wasn’t what the bards sang of, or those people who danced through the street drunk off their asses. Not that Enid ever saw that, but her brothers sometimes whispered to her about what happened out there. They might not be the heir, but they were Men and that gave them more freedom.
Issac, tall, broad, pretty brown eyes and dimpled cheeks was the heir. He wore suits like they were descended from the heavens, just to rest upon his skin. He talked with a firm, but soft voice, that commanded his people. He had been brought up to be the proper and strong king of his people. One who could fight, but also dance and cheer when the time called for it. Esther had always said he was a gift from the moon goddess herself, born under its light, and destined to give them a time of peace.
He was the child that mattered, and every son after that was a backup. They were similar to Enid in the sense they would all be married off, for power, for some gain for their family. To garner a new ally, or strengthen an old ally. They had some sort of say in their wives, from a lineup of Princesses who giggled when they smiled, and fainted when they met their gaze.
Enid was the last. She could not be heir, not even if all her brothers died, and their sons with them. She could not run a kingdom, she could not be given a hand of power. That’s not, nor had it ever been, how it was meant to be. Because she was a Princess , and they were somehow the lesser. When she would marry, unlike her brothers who might become kings of neighboring kingdoms, or hold some sort of power and business in their palms, she would never have the opportunity. Her words meant naught. Her thoughts were rocks.
Tis to say, Esther Sinclair had waited long enough to marry her daughter off. She had waited for every offer, few that there were. The Sinclairs already married off nearly every son, the last daughter had not been the top priority for anyone. But, after a while it did become a burden to take care of someone who couldn’t do anything, and was just meant to one day bear children and be done with it.
And here she was, the ball. Under the surface it was to find her a suitable Prince with money and a flourishing Kingdom that could drown them in even more wealth that they already had. Her parents talked trades, what rich soil grew in the west, or what fine gems had been mined from the south east. Enid was there, of course, sitting around and looking pretty. Feeling bored out of her mind and a growing disdain with every smile her mother gave the man she was talking to. She watched her father laugh, big bellied and loud in that way he faked when he truly desired something.
“I would have thought you would be more inclined to enjoy this setting.” Enid could recognize that voice from a thousand. She hasn’t heard it often, but each brief moment, all the few hours that stacked together had been the highlight of her life .
“Monseigneur Le Dauphin!”
Wednesday Addams, wearing what has to be the most beautifully crafted black gown Enid has ever seen, smooths down her dress and sits right next to her. The chair is angled towards her, yet the heir apparent still scoots her chair closer towards Enid. It leaves them with the privacy to speak without having to talk too loud. Their voices could be low whispers, or hushed tones and not be heard.
“Your Highness.”
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