ii. royalty: a prison

━ ❝ too kind for this world ❞

━━━━★✼☆｡━━━━

EVERY SINGLE DAY the sun would rise, announcing that a new day had begun. And every single night the sun would fall, announcing that the day would be ending soon. It was a cycle that never ended and a cycle that started with or without you. Arabella never paid much mind because time seemed to blend together. She did the same routine every day. However, the next morning after she went to the village, Arabella felt different. This time, the sun greeted her and she welcomed it by springing out of bed and barreling toward the bell beside her bed.

The bell was attached to another that connected to one in the servant quarters. It was how the maids, cooks, and the other workers knew when they were needed. Their quarters weren't the best, but they were certainly better than the village huts that were infested by bugs and were steaming hot. The stone surrounding the entire palace kept the place cool. And when winter came around the corner, the fireplaces would start up and the palace would be warm.

Fireplaces were another thing that Arabella felt her people deserved. During the winter, the only thing they had to cover themselves and their children were fur blankets. Fur blankets weren't cheap. So, most of the population didn't have any and they made do with what they had. Arabella forced herself not to think about the young children clinging to their parents for the least bit of warmth they could find. It was awful.

Alice and Lucy, Arabella's maids, appeared in the room not long after she rang the bell. Now, Alice was a petite girl, much like Arabella, and had identical brown hair (just not as luscious) and brown doe eyes. Lucy was different and was bigger than Alice with sun-kissed hair and cornflower blue eyes. Both of them were quiet, haven being taught not to talk to royalty unless spoken to or for greetings.

"Good morning, Princess," they both greeted, curtsying.

Arabella curtsied back and laughed when she saw their shocked faces. "Good morning to the both you two."

"Miss..." Alice trailed off with wide eyes.

The Princess put a finger to her own lips. "Shh. I know." She dropped her hand and glided to her window. "Can you two wonderful girls help me for a trip to the village?" Her maids were still in shock at her kind gesture.

Lucy nodded, her mouth still agape. "Of course."

Arabella was ready in under five minutes. She thanked the two and ran down the steps to the front gate as quickly as she could. This entire time, she's wearing heels. Ivy used to say that a girl that can run in her royalty entire should be feared, especially if she's wearing heels. The shoes would dig into the owner's foot as they sprinted, making bruises and blisters form, no doubt. But it never hurt Arabella when she ran, in a way, it made her feel powerful.

The same man from the previous day was there by the carriage. He smiled when he saw her. Once he bowed, he said, "The same place as yesterday?"

Arabella nodded. Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird's. She wondered if Malcolm was expecting her. If not, then she'd surprise him. Malcolm was someone she knew for a fact she'd never forget. She couldn't forget him. Perhaps it was nothing but a childish crush. Arabella didn't even really know if she fancied him or not. Love was something she never understood or seen.

"Yes, please." He held out his hand and helped her into the carriage. She was safely seated when the carriage began to move. Her hands intertwined themselves only to unravel and do the same motion. Soon they reached the town square and the carriage door opened.

Arabella didn't even take the man's hand as she jumped down, her heels digging into her skin, said a quick 'thank you', and hurried to Malcolm's small hut alongside the other identical cottages.

She worried that his father was there and he would be upset at Malcolm for her showing up again. Their families were something neither of them discussed in their time together. Arabella didn't question it. In a way, they were both trapped by their parents. Only, Malcolm's father was not as kind as her parents were to her.

When there was no answer at the hut, the Princess concluded that he must be at the blacksmith which is where Malcolm and his father were assigned to work. Nearly everyone in the village had a specific job. Once children are old enough to work, the royal family send guards to assign each child to a job they would be stuck with for life. There was no getting out of it unless you ran. And if someone were to run, they'd never get very far.

There were men working at the blacksmith and one of the older men saw here and stopped working so he could bow. "Princess Arabella, what brings you here to the village this fine day?" he asked.

"I'm looking for someone," she replied, gazing around. "Is Malcolm here?"

The man turned around to the small building. "Malcolm! The princess is looking for you," he called out.

Within a few seconds, Malcolm appeared from the doorway that led into the room where they made bows and arrows. Arabella noticed how his face almost immediately began to heat up. It was like he was embarrassed that she asked for him. "Ar-Princess," Malcolm corrected before bowing.

Arabella smiled with grace. She kept her hands together in front of her. "Malcolm. Join me for a walk?"

Her beauty was still the utmost unbelievable to him. The dress she wore complimented her just as well as the one from the day previous. Colors of black and white matched together so elegantly that it was almost like angels made it just for her. And the way she used no powder for her face and no crushed petals for her lips only went to prove that her glamour was natural.

Malcolm looked at the man to see if it was ok. The man nodded, telling him to go on. Malcolm looked back at her, the blush still on his cheeks. "Su-sure," he stuttered.

Arabella still smiled, this time at how shy he still seemed to be with her. Royalty took pride in their effect on others, most of them at least. Deep down, the Princess knew her whole entire being was terrible. She hated how she could lure a man with a simple glance. No one would love her for her. It would be nothing but wealth or to quench their thirst for power.

The boy hastily wiped his hands off on a rag (to at least clean himself off a little bit) and followed her.

———

A meadow lied near the castle where Arabella would take long walks when she wished to be alone. The girl had taken Malcolm there and claimed that the place was their place. She told him that they would always come here when they talked. Of course, he presented no argument.

"I'm surprised you came back," Malcolm said suddenly.

Her eyes went from him to the ground. "Well, I said I would."

"I know. It's just... royalty aren't usually nice. I didn't think you'd show."

She made a thoughtful noise that sounded like a scoff. "That is the sad truth that I am forced to live with." He frowned and went to apologize, but she cut him off. "My entire life I've been forced to live with the weight of being from the line of powerful beings. I was cursed from the day I was born. I am nothing but a weapon, a devil that was transformed into a girl beautiful beyond belief." 

Arabella looked at him. "Do you have any idea how many people I've met? And not one of them loved me for me. They were all in awe of my looks and my power. But not of who I am. Being a Princess is a curse. I would trade anything to be normal. This is not the life I wanted for myself." She wiped a tear that nearly fell. "I want someone to care for me. Not because of my magic or my looks, but of who I am on the inside. I want someone to love Arabella. Not the Princess of Drishia, the next rightfully heir." She paused. "Is it really so much to ask?"

Malcolm looked guilty. He shook his head. "No. It's not. I'm sorry if I upset you-"

"You didn't upset me." She smiled sadly. "You just reminded me of how much I want something else. Something more." Arabella sighed. "Do me a favor will you?" He nodded. "Don't treat me like a Princess, treat me like I'm another girl in your village. I want us to be friends and not have to worry about any silly status."

He agreed and said he'd like that. Arabella smiled contently and then went to lay her head on his chest. Her head barely even rested on him when Malcolm let out a wince. Her head shot up. "I'm sorry."

Malcolm shook his head. "It's fine."

Arabella saw how his one hand was on his stomach. "You're hurt," she observed. She reached for the fabric of his shirt to see the damage.

Malcolm became antsy and moved away. "I'm fine."

She saw tears in his eyes and Arabella knew something was going on. Crying. Plenty of times she had watched people cry but never experienced the phenomena herself. It wasn't just because she had nothing to cry about. But it was because she almost couldn't. Like something in her body would not allow her to. It was inhuman, another thing she hated about herself.

"Malcolm, let me see," she spoke softly.

He looked at her hesitantly before lifting his shirt slowly to reveal bruising covering his stomach. She would've assumed it was from when she first saw him when his father had hit him. However, the bruises would've started to heal by then. But these bruises... they were new.

Arabella ran her fingers across them and Malcolm winced, hissing in pain. Further to the side, there were the bruises from yesterday. Those ones had begun to heal. For the first time in her entire life, Arabella allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks. It was the first time she had ever cried. "This is my fault."

Malcolm lowered his shirt and shook his head, putting his hands on her cheeks. "No, it's not."

She clung to his arm as she cried, "When?"

"He did it after you left, and this morning before we left to go to the blacksmith."

Arabella felt her heart sink. The first time she cried was for someone else, not herself. Heaven above was in wonder because this girl was truly selfless. The feeling she got while the tears fell was different, almost unreal. "How long has..."

"Since I was 6," Malcolm answered.

The number made two more tears fall. She was thinking so quickly. What could she do? Ivy wouldn't care, Leo would. But he did anything her mother asked him to so there was no use. There was nothing she could do to help. An evil thought crossed her mind and Arabella pushed it away. She couldn't resort to something like killing. Why had that thought even occurred to her? "I have to do something. I can't just leave you now that I know what he does to you. He'll just hurt you again when he finds out I saw you again."

"I'll be fine," he said reassuringly. He kissed the top of her head. Both of them knew he was lying. "I'll be fine," he repeated. "You better get going. You have to get back to your parents."

Arabella put her head in the crook of his neck as she sniffled. She shook her head. "I wish I could do something about it."

Malcolm rubbed her back soothingly. "Me too, love. Me too."

———

The sight of her carriage awaiting her made Arabella want to cry again. She had made sure her eyes weren't red and that any trace that indicated she'd cried was gone. Malcolm had assured her he'd be fine thousands of times but it still made the Princess wary. She did not want to leave him alone with his father.

Arabella turned back to Malcolm who stood beside her. She hugged him and he was taken aback for a moment before hugging her back. He laid his head on her shoulder while she spoke, "I'm afraid I can't come tomorrow. I have training."

They let go and she held his hand. "You promise to come to the castle if you need anything?" she asked.

Malcolm nodded and put his hand on her cheek. "Yes, I promise."

Arabella smiled softly and then pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The smile fell as she imagined what might happen to him when she was gone. More bruises would appear on his skin. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

With all of her might, Arabella let him go and then turned her back to him. She walked to her carriage and entered, forcing herself not to look back. Malcolm smiled until her carriage was out of sight. The trip back to his hut was excruciating. He already knew what was going to happen. He'd pay the price for spending his time with a royal.

He opened the door and saw his father waiting for him. "Where were you?" his father asked in rage, an empty bottle in his hand.

Malcolm gulped. "I was helping in the field," he lied.

In one stride, his father was up and slapped him across the face. "I know you were with that disgusting piece of filth," he spat.

Malcolm felt his blood boil. He started to feel the need to defend the girl he had met just the day before. But why? "She is not a disgusting piece of filth," he yelled at his father. "She is amazing and is beautiful. She's kind, caring, honest, and loyal. She's different than the other royals."

"What? And you come as low as to have feelings for her? Oh, my boy, she doesn't love you. She never will. You're just a peasant boy in a village. Her kind doesn't feel love. Her kind aren't human."

Malcolm said nothing. Maybe his father was right. Maybe Arabella didn't care about him. As soon as that thought appeared, another one did. No. She does care. "You're wrong," he told his father.

"Oh really? Then why she is marrying Prince Alistair from the Kingdom of Horan next month?" his father asked.

Malcolm's face fell. Arabella never told him that. Then again, she never told him much of anything. Her life as a Princess was quiet, she never spoke a word of it. His father became amused. "She's a royal. And royals care about no one but themselves, she, her mother, and many other Princesses to come as well. She doesn't love you."

Malcolm felt his eyes fill with tears. He felt betrayed. Arabella didn't love him. The kindness she showed like a ring was nothing but an act. She was no better than her mother.

His father smirked maliciously. "Now, since you are stupid enough to have feelings for a royal, I'll just have to take that away."

Malcolm felt tears stream down his face as he waited for the first hit. His father punched him, sending him to the floor. This time, unlike his other beatings, he felt nothing. Because all he could think about was how stupid he was to care for someone like Arabella.

———

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