The Love Of A Princess

Long before the modern world humans know today, the continent of Eurasia was known as Ordana.

War had torn the land for centuries, ripping apart diplomacies and families alike. But through it all, four strong kingdoms emerged.

The Circea kingdom was filled with intelligent people known for their technological advancements and close relations with the land. A mysterious place and one to be feared, magic and witchcraft were said to have origins among the capital.

The Legan kingdom was inhabited by skillful merchants surrounded by miles of desert, towering sand dunes, and strange creatures that had humps and could go without water for days. All their trade and land development had derived a flourishing oasis. Famously praised for their abundant amount of spices.

The Kaarella kingdom was the most mysterious, once known for their incredible craftsmanship and dragon breeding culture, but soon fell to a corrupt Emperor's hands. He had produced a wicked bloodline of money-hungry aristocrats. War and famine had devastated the once strong-willed monarchy. Still, they continued to fight inside their own borders, finally producing a king that was interested in life outside the walls, desperate to make any treaty he could.

And finally, the Slasian kingdom, the fourth and final inhabitants of the vast and diverse landscape.

The Slasian kingdom resided in the northernmost part of the country, with stunningly beautiful mountains and crystal blue lakes. It was scattered with plains that stretched to the horizon and back, with plenty of room for livestock and farming. The land was plentiful, with vibrant fields that promised life for the entire country and an endless supply of food and water.

It was Isana's home. And she loved every bit of it.

Even so, home came with many obstacles, many that she never would have been able to see coming. Obstacles that could only be fathomed by royalty, only experienced by those most worthy, most humble, and most concerned for all human life.

Responsibility ran through Isana's veins, something that she would grow to take pride in. At least, that was what her father, King Alaric, preached. He was the sole ruler of the Slasian Empire, ruler of the land and every person, animal, and creature that inhabited it. Throughout all four kingdoms, he was respected, his name written down in the history books to be the youngest warrior in The Great War, to be the first king elected by the people.

That was the story Isana had grown up reading. Alaric had been certain to make her remember what happened in the past, urging her to do everything she could to carry on his legacy, using her abilities and power to keep the peace.

It was her destiny. A destiny that seemed far away as her teenage years flew by, as she blew into her twenties, desperate to learn all that she could alone, all the skills that would make her a great ruler, with or without a king at her side.

That was what Isana had always wanted to believe, but now that she was inching past the prime age to be married off, relations with her father were growing tense in searching for a male heir. Nobody was ever good enough; nobody would ever be worthy. If Isana found him appealing, her father would disapprove of something. If King Alaric approved, Isana would find him repulsive. It was a never-ending cycle, one that always ended in screaming matches about lack of respect, lack of courage, and a lack of corporation.

Like every other day, the conversation at the breakfast table consisted of marriage and responsibility. The Princess had been awake for less than ten minutes, her mood immediately souring as the words left her father's lips.

"Good morning, my dear. I think I have found you another possible suitor." King Alaric greeted, knowing that the revelation could go one of two ways, Isana becoming upset or Isana becoming stoic.

This time, though, there was neither a smile nor a frown upon his face. King Alaric almost always wore one regardless of the conversation. It matched his crinkled, wise eyes, a chestnut pair that had seen the country through its worst to its best. He was preparing for the worst, it seemed.

Isana held her father's questioning gaze. She knew how frustrating the search could be. But it still irked her, how powerless she was because of tradition alone, not because she was weak or because she wasn't qualified to rule.

"Good morning to you too, father." She replied through gritted teeth, trying to muster up an acceptable attitude so early in the morning before she had the opportunity to sip on her favorite imported tea, before she was even able to stop her stomach from grumbling for food.

"Lady Isana." The morning servants bowed as she pulled out a chair to sit in.

At her routine arrival, the servants began to filter out, finishing up their marvelous food display before shuffling towards the large wooden doors, pulling them closed so nobody would be able to hear the daily conversation.

Now that the King and the Princess were alone, Isana was eager to unleash her disapproval. "I was expecting your search to be shorter. There are only three men who have enough power to marry me. Isn't that what you said?"

She tried to hold her tongue, yet to no avail. Talking about her future arranged husband had never sat well with her. It was always a topic that would damper her mood for the rest of the day. Despite that, King Alaric was surprised to find that she was not as feisty as before, only sarcastic and disinterested.

Isana was tired.

"Yes, but the right one is the tricky part."

The Princess's gaze fell to the long wooden dining table that separated her from her father. Nobody else had been invited to dine. That should have been the first warning flag as to what his conversation was going to include. Usually, his subjects would settle for an hour to talk, along with the knights and royals.

Isana had just wanted to enjoy breakfast, but now, an unbearable discussion had been forced upon her in the mere hours of the morning. Her respectful filter had not been adequately established. "None of them are the right one for me. Love cannot be forced."

"You will grow to love him." King Alaric sighed, indifferent, averting his attention as he ripped a piece of bread from the loaf.

"No, father. I will make his life a living hell. You know that very well." She placed her hands in her lap in an attempt to remain calm.

"We've had this conversation many times. You know what I'm going to say."

Isana chuckled. "I know, and I will always point out your hypocrisy."

Her father was silent. Though he tried to conceal his sympathetic emotions, Isana evoked them forward, etching a disgruntled frown to appear on his face. One that was rarely visible in battle, much less about a topic so decided, so simple to everyone, so expected of everyone but his daughter.

"You married my mother out of love. You were able to choose from all the women in the kingdhy can I not do the same?"

He took another bite, wishing she would relent with her provocation. "You know the answer."

Isana took a deep breath, reaching forward to angrily and childishly snatch her own piece of bread and bite into it. It helped calm her down. She had to remind herself that if she were to ever speak so forwardly to another individual, she would be punished. She was only ever able to speak her mind around her father. Though they disagreed, she was still secretly thankful that he cared about her enough to let her ramble. The young Princess knew she would never be able to change his mind, but it was in her nature to at least try, nature he had nurtured into her from birth.

"Our situations are different."

They were. King Alaric had been chosen by the people and not by bloodline. He was also male, already granting him an advantage to do what he pleased.

"But you have the power to change it! Our rules are idiotic. They are patronizing. You have raised me to be different. Why can I not bring more change to this land?"

The King set his goblet down with a defeated expression. The conversation would never see a resolution. Stubbornness never fell far from the tree, a trait common amongst the Slasian bloodline. Isana resembled her mother in ways Alaric could not describe.

"Enough. Now is not the time to discuss if women should have power or not. I am going to make arrangements to have Prince Bastion of the Kaarella kingdom visit."

Isana almost slammed her first against the table, stopping the commotion right before it happened, restraining the defiance that swelled in her entire being. "How dare you!" Her voice raised an octave above what would be deemed respectful.

King Alaric's eye twitched with irritation, his own voice rising. "Silence, girl! I am still your father. I am still the King. You will do as I say!"

"Then I will forever despise you for it." She hissed, clenching her fists together and setting them back into her lap.

That rebuttal finally seemed to knock some sense into the wise old man. He didn't have any words, and instead, raised his goblet back to his lips and took a sip. Not replying was the perfect response, having to gather his own composure to understand the gravity of his actions. He was going to give his daughter away to a man who was a sworn enemy for decades to the kingdom, a race that had been feared across generations.

King Alaric's inner turmoil was once again visible in his expression.

Isana immediately felt guilty. Her relationship was too important with her father to be able to hate him forever. "I am sorry, father." She whispered in the next breath.

He looked at her, eyebrows creased with worry. "I am only trying to figure out what is best for you. Your husband needs to have experience with ruling a kingdom, he needs to be on equal footing, for the sake of this country as well, and all the people you will soon be responsible for."

Isana soaked in his words, nodding. "But the Kaarellas?-"

"-You know how badly I want peace to fall upon this land. Uniting through marriage is the easiest solution. The Kaarella kingdom is strong, they have good resources, we could quell the anxiety that has followed the Great War. You and he could-"

"I know." Isana bit her lip, gazing down at her half-eaten meal. She was not hungry anymore, reflecting on the countless rumors she had heard about Prince Bastian, about his kingdom, and about his father.

Though she despised the idea, it was her duty as the Princess. She was already privileged as it was. If uniting with the Kaarella kingdom would bring her citizens happiness, a plethora of resources, and a strong military, marrying Prince Bastian would be the wisest decision.

"I still believe we are strong enough as a kingdom. We don't need their help. If anything, they need ours."

"Maybe so, but they have the one thing we do not. Dragons are already hard enough to come by. We would have all the protection we would ever need. Prince Bastian is the most skilled trainer, apparently a prodigy among his people."

Isana had not heard about that fact. She had heard his reputation was grand, yet there was still the stigma of what his ancestors had done to hers. There was still distrust, especially with the creatures that the Kaarella kingdom was so fond of, beasts that had slaughtered her relatives, animals that were relentless when it came to bloodshed, their very breed trained to destroy.

"The last thing I want is another senseless war with them."

"So you want to make the dragons our own?"

King Alaric nodded. He was right, as he always was. He had thought far into the future. He had probably planned Isana to marry Bastian the day she was born, hoping and praying that she would grow into a sensible young woman.

Finally, coming to understand that fact, Isana realized that she had overstepped her boundaries. She decided to not say another word on the topic, the breakfast time conversation deescalating into something milder.

The Princess spoke of her evening training instead. "Sir Lukas says I am growing stronger with handling the sword." She smiled at the mention of his name.

"Wonderful. I am happy to hear your rigorous training is starting to produce results."

Isana opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by a gentle yet firm knock at the door.

King Alaric turned. "Come in."

The large oak doors open with a strained groan. The man who stepped in was the man Isana had grown incredibly smitten with. Sir Lukas, as mentioned before, King Alaric's most trusted and honorable knight.