Chapter 1 The Weight of Duty

Princess Isabella gazed out of the grand window of the royal palace, her hands resting lightly on the cold marble sill. The view was breathtaking-the lush, rolling hills of the kingdom stretched for miles, dotted with villages and sparkling rivers that flowed like veins through the land. Yet, despite the beauty of the landscape, a heavy sense of responsibility hung over her like a dark cloud.

Her father, King Reginald, had ruled with unwavering resolve for over two decades, but even the strongest monarchs eventually yielded to the complexities of politics. And now, it was Isabella's turn to play the role assigned to her by the tides of fate. Her marriage, the most important event of her life, was not to be based on love, but on duty-the duty to her kingdom, to her family, and to the future of both realms.

She sighed and turned from the window, the cool breeze still lingering in her mind. It was a habit of hers, to escape to this high tower when the weight of the royal crown became unbearable. But today, that escape was not enough. Today, everything seemed harder.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Your Highness," came the voice of her maid, Clara. "The royal dressmaker is here for your final fitting."

Isabella's shoulders tensed, the dread she had been trying to suppress rising once again. It had been weeks since the announcement of her engagement to Prince Caspian of the neighboring kingdom, and yet, the reality of it had still not sunk in. Her marriage to Caspian was a political alliance, nothing more. There was no romance, no flutter of excitement in her heart when she thought of him.

It had been arranged by her father to ensure peace between their kingdoms-a strategic decision that would bring prosperity and stability to both nations. Isabella's happiness was not a factor in the equation.

"Tell her to wait," Isabella murmured, her voice cold and distant.

Clara hesitated, sensing the tension in the air. "Your Highness, the fitting must be completed. The royal wedding is in less than a month."

Isabella's grip on the window sill tightened. The wedding. The thought of it made her stomach churn. Not because she disliked Prince Caspian-on the contrary, he was handsome and charming in his own way-but because she did not love him. How could she? Her heart had been given to freedom, to the idea of a life beyond the constraints of a royal title. A life where she could make her own decisions, choose her own path, and live for herself.

But none of that mattered now. Duty, family, and the kingdom came first.

"Fine," Isabella relented, her voice tinged with defeat. "Tell her I will be there in a moment."

Clara bowed and left, and Isabella's thoughts drifted back to her future husband. She had never met Prince Caspian in person, but they had exchanged letters, written through their advisors. From what she had gathered, he was the perfect match on paper-intelligent, respectful, and well-mannered. He was also the heir to a powerful kingdom, and the marriage would strengthen the alliance between their two realms.

But there was no passion between them. No spark of excitement. Isabella felt nothing but duty when she thought of him. And it was this hollow feeling that had begun to take root in her heart ever since the engagement was announced.

Her kingdom, Seraphia, was one of the most prosperous in the land. The people loved their royal family, and her father had long been a beloved monarch. But Isabella knew that peace and prosperity did not come easily. They were maintained through careful negotiations, alliances, and, most importantly, through the sacrifice of those who held power. She had learned this from a young age-her mother, Queen Margarethe, had always emphasized the importance of duty over personal desire.

And so, Isabella had spent her childhood preparing for this very moment. She had been groomed to be a perfect princess, to uphold the dignity of the crown and the welfare of the kingdom. But in the quiet corners of her heart, she had always longed for something more-a life where she could choose her own destiny.

The thought of escaping had crossed her mind many times, but each time, she had dismissed it. Her sense of responsibility was too strong, her love for her people too deep. She had seen firsthand what happened when royalty neglected their duties. Her mother had taught her that sacrifice was not only necessary-it was noble.

But today, as Isabella stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the heavy silks of her gown, she wondered what her life would have been like if she had been born a commoner. Would she have been free to choose her own path? Would she have been allowed to love and live on her terms? Would she have been able to follow her heart instead of her duty?

As Clara placed the final touches on the gown, Isabella caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a princess-a woman bound by duty, by tradition, by the expectations of the crown. But behind her eyes, there was something more-a longing, a yearning for something different.

"Your Highness, you look radiant," Clara said, stepping back to admire her work. "Prince Caspian will be so pleased."

Isabella forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you, Clara. I'm sure he will."

The fitting was soon completed, and Isabella was escorted to the royal dining hall for a meal with her family. Her father was already seated at the head of the long table, his piercing blue eyes scanning a stack of documents. Her mother sat beside him, her regal presence as commanding as ever.

"Isabella, you look stunning," her mother said, her voice warm but distant. "Prince Caspian will be most impressed."

Isabella nodded, her smile tightening. "Thank you, Mother."

Her father looked up from his papers and gave her a rare, approving glance. "The wedding preparations are progressing smoothly. The alliance between our kingdoms is crucial for the future of Seraphia."

Isabella felt a pang in her chest. Her father's devotion to his kingdom was admirable, but it was also a constant reminder of the burden she carried. She had always known this day would come, the day when she would be asked to marry for the good of the realm. But now that it was here, it felt heavier than she had ever imagined.

The conversation turned to matters of politics, trade agreements, and the upcoming royal visit to Caspian's kingdom. Isabella tuned out the details, her mind drifting back to the journey ahead. She had heard rumors of an impending threat from a rival faction-a shadowy group that had been plotting against the royal family for years. She could not help but wonder if this would be the time when she would be forced to confront these threats head-on. Her role as a princess was not just to marry and bear heirs-it was to protect her people from harm. But how could she do that when she was so trapped by her own circumstances?

As dinner concluded, Isabella excused herself from the table, her thoughts swirling in a tumult of uncertainty and fear. She longed for clarity, for a moment of peace, but she knew that peace would never come. Not while she was a princess, and not while her life was dictated by the needs of the kingdom.

Her future had already been decided. And no matter how much she longed for a different life, she knew there was no escape.

The door to her chambers closed behind her, and Isabella finally allowed herself to breathe. The weight of the crown was heavier than she had imagined-but the weight of love, or the lack thereof, was far more suffocating.