15: Sorrowful thoughts

Heather’s POV

I stood up slowly, the heaviness in my chest anchoring each movement, and made my way to the door. My face was damp, and my throat tight, but I still tried to wipe away the tears before I opened it. My fingers trembled as they touched my cheek. I knew I didn’t look composed but I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.

When I opened the door, it was Lucinda standing there. She looked at me for barely a second before her brows knit together in worry. “Princess Heather,” she said gently. “You have been crying.”

“No,” I answered too quickly. “I am not crying, I just got something on my eyes,” I replied blinking severally.

I hated how unconvincing my voice sounded. Too soft and too broken. My eyes stung again just from the effort of keeping them open, of keeping the tears at bay. Lucinda didn’t press at first. She stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind her. Her eyes moved across the room and landed on the letter lying on the floor where I had dropped it earlier. She walked over, picked it up carefully, and turned to me.

“Is this what is making you cry?” she asked softly, holding the letter like it might fall apart in her hands. “Don’t lie to me Princess, I know you have been crying, there is nothing that had gotten into your eyes.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I wanted to say no. I wanted to show that I am stronger than that and that a single letter couldn’t reduce me to this state but I couldn’t lie to myself, it might mean nothing to others but the letter had the capacity to break me like this.

My throat tightened, and I felt my chest cave in, heavy about everything that was happening, my life, the life I had lived for the past few years.

“It shouldn’t be enough to make me cry,” I whispered, my voice cracking as the words spilled out. “I know that. But I read it and… I just…”

Lucinda took a step toward me, her face calm and open, waiting for me to speak more, but I had no strength in me, I felt weak, my body shaking even. I sank slowly down onto the edge of my bed. My hands were shaking and Lucinda came closer to me, I hated the fact that I was making her worry too.

“You don’t have to let it get to you Princess Heather, I know it’s hard but sometimes you have to be strong and let it be. There are circumstances we can’t change, like an example, me being a maid in the palace,” she said with a playful tone, trying to ease the tension but my lips barely twitched.

“I understand all you are saying Lucinda, I do understand,” I let out a deep breath, “They didn’t even ask if I was okay. Not even once, not even a single line to ask how was I coping in the palace since this was the first time I was staying away from my home. They wrote all those words just to remind me that I’m expected to be a good wife, to smile and please Prince Keith and his family. To not embarrass the family name that I come from, is that all that really matters to them? I do not matter at all?”

Lucinda’s silence wasn’t awkward. It was comforting, I know she wanted to say a lot but definitely doesn’t have anything to say right now.

“I’m not a person to them,” I whispered. “Just a duty, an extension of my father’s reputation. No one asked how I was feeling, not my father or my sister or stepmother. No one! They didn’t ask if I was scared or miserable, they didn’t ask if I was coping, they didn’t even pretend to care.” I kept on ranting, my eyes blurred with tears as I thought about my miserable life.

A life that never knows what real love is, a life that never knows what it means to be cared for. All I ever did was please them as if it was my sole duty in this world, I sniffed and Lucinda came closer letting out a deep breath, she knelt in front of me, her hands reached for mine and held them tightly. “Heather, family… can be like that sometimes. They can be distant and selfish. They only see what they want to see.”

Her voice was soft, but not pitying.

“They might not give you the love you deserve, but that doesn’t mean you are unworthy of it. The most important thing now is you, you are living this life, you have to hold on and you have to make something out of it for yourself, definitely not for them.”

I nodded slowly. Her words didn’t erase the pain, but they gave me something to hold onto. They somewhat comforted me a bit, knowing that at least someone for the first time understands my emotions.

“Thank you,” I said, voice hoarse. “For being here.”

She smiled gently, squeezed my hands one last time, and then stood up. “I'm here to make you feel better and if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to meet me, I will be there to listen. I have to go now and get some work done,” I nodded and without another word, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

I was alone again.

And the silence came rushing back.

I turned to the letter again, it lay crumpled slightly now, creased from where Lucinda had held it, the words still screaming off the page in the handwriting of my father.

Be grateful, be obedient, and don’t bring shame to the family.

I stared at the fireplace, tempted to burn it… but I didn’t. Instead, I walked to the corner of my room and sat down on the cold marble floor, knees pulled to my chest, I rested my head against the wall and let my sorrows wrap around me like a blanket.

If my mother were still alive… would she have let this happen?

Would she have fought for me? Taken me away? Stood in front of my father and said no.

I didn’t even know the kind of woman she was, only that she had loved my father enough to be his mistress, knowing the kind of wife he already had.

Was that what love did to people?

Made them blind?

Made them believe they were the exception?

I let out a bitter hiss between my teeth and clenched my fists.

“I will never let myself be that stupid,” I whispered. “I will never fall in love. Ever.”

The heaviness in my chest was too much and I couldn’t stay still anymore. I got to my feet and walked out of the room, barely knowing where I was going.

I found myself in the kitchen, the moment I walked in, the maids all looked up, startled. Their chatter died instantly and they exchanged cautious and unsure glances.

“I want alcohol,” I said, my voice flat.

One of the younger maids stepped forward. “Your Highness, are you certain…”

I cut her off with a glare. “Bring me wine.”

She nodded quickly and retrieved a bottle, placing it gently on the counter like it was fragile. I picked it up and stared at it for a second.

“One isn’t enough,” I said. My voice was louder now. “I will take more.”

They didn’t stop me. I took two more bottles from the shelf myself and walked out without another word.

Somehow I ended up in the palace garden, it was quiet, I sat down, and the cool air bit against my skin, but I welcomed it, it made me feel something.

My fingers fumbled with the cork of the wine bottle until it came loose and the scent of wine hit me first, it was strong, I tilted the bottle to my lips and drank.

It burned, but I liked the burn.

It was honest.

I drank again. And again.

The quiet hum of the night surrounded me, crickets chirped and leaves rustled. Somewhere far away, I could hear the sound of footsteps from the palace guards, but they kept their distance.

Good.

I was tired. So tired of being perfect for the family, of pretending, of trying to mold myself into someone acceptable and more pleasing.

Nothing had ever truly worked out for me, not in twenty years of my existence. The bottle slipped from my fingers and landed on the grass. I reached for the second one and kept drinking.

My head began to swim, my limbs felt heavy and my thoughts blurred and tangled, slurring together.

I stood up or tried to but the world tilted sideways. My knees buckled and I staggered forward. My foot caught on something, roots, maybe and I tripped but I didn’t hit the ground instead I hit something solid.

A chest that was warm and firm.

And then two arms caught me.