One would like to think that being the princess; being heir to the throne of the most powerful in the Kingdom in the world would give me all the control I could ever need.

But it doesn't.

Shockingly, the amount of power I have when it comes to my life is next to none.

The only control I have is over my appearance. That I can control.

Unless we're making a public debut or going to an event with a dress code, or meeting powerful people.

But other than that I may look as I please.

I have seven piercings in my left ear lobe. One ruby, for my father. One sapphire, for my mother. One peridot jewel, for my eldest brother, Robert. One amethyst, for my younger sister Sloan. One crystal quartz, for my brother Marcus. One opal, for my brother David. Finally a pure diamond, for my youngest sister, Juliet.

I gifted myself the first five earrings when Marcus was born. Then I continued the tradition for both David and Juliet.

My right ear only has one piercing. A shiny emerald, for myself. I decided to save my right ear for my own family. Once I have married another stone will appear next to the emerald. My husband will pick out his stone. Then more will appear as I have my children.

I fiddle with the stones whilst I sit on the edge of my bed, trying to blink the sleep away from my eyes. It's ineffective and I've never found my marble quite as intriguing as I do now.

The sound of running water lifts me from my drowsy stupor. I pull on my white bathrobe and stroll into my ensuite bathroom. It's filled with warm steam. Kennedy somehow knew that I needed a bath this particular morning.

I rid myself of my robe and the nightgown underneath. Allowing myself to sink deeply into the wonderfully warm tub. Dried flowers float on the slightly pink water's surface. mixing with oils and salts that perfume the water creating a delicate aroma of citrus.

Kennedy is my personal servant. I cannot call them a butler or maid. All of the servants in the castle wear sleek black masks. Paired with a black draping over their heads.

My brother Bobby told me why they wore those masks. He said that the original saviors did not want us to see our servants as humans. So they wear black masks. It is firm, looks as if it is made of heavy glass. The mask barely contorts to the facial structure that all humans have. There are no eyeholes or spaces for them to breathe out of.

The masks have a special design.

All of the servants can still see and breathe normally. Although the complex functions of the mask remain a mystery to me. Their design is public knowledge, all I would have to do is hop on a public database and search.

But my time holds no room for such mundane tasks. I could ask David to look it up for me, but I am not with him often. When I am with my siblings we all have a far more important task at hand.

The surface of the black masks is incredibly shiny. So reflective I would be able to apply my makeup using it as a mirror. A thin white line runs vertically down the center of the mask. Again, I am unsure of its purpose, if it even has one at all.

"Tell the chefs I want french toast," I say from my waters. My eyes remain closed as I speak.

Kennedy does not respond. But I know that I was heard and my order is being silently relayed to the kitchens, somehow.

When I was younger the silence of the servants used to unnerve me. But once we closely studied the 'Rules of the Work' I found it to be law and not a habit. I will never simply have a conversation with Kennedy. They will only answer me I ask a direct question or give an order that requires them to speak.

"What time is it?" I inquire whilst massaging a hair mask into my scalp.

"Eight fifteen, Princess," Kennedy responds.

Because along with the servants remaining faceless, and referred to by last name only, they also must remain androgynous. The masks filter their voices. When they speak I can only hear the prerecorded voice programmed into every servant mask. It sounds like a woman with a very low voice. Or a man with a rather high voice.

Keeping me and all the other members of the Court, clueless.

"And when is breakfast?" I question.

"Nine thirty, Princess," They reply instantly.

I've been in the tub for nearly half an hour now. I rinse out my hair before walking out of the enormous bathtub. Which is more of a pool in my opinion.

Made of smooth, ashen river rock. There are three steps with a golden railing that leads down into the depths of the tub. Eight people could fit comfortably inside of it.

Across the room stands an equally as tremendous shower. The dark rock continues. A bench sits in the middle of the widespread shower stall. With a small fountain that comes out the top and dribbles own the four sides once the shower is turned on. Golden showerheads are scattered above and around the walls of the shower. A myriad of knobs sit opposite of the faucets, emitting every, soap, scrub, and cream imaginable.

Dripping from the perfumed waters I pull my robe off the hook that Kennedy had hung it from after I, along with my floral nightdress, left it pooled on the floor. Wrapping my hair in a white towel, I walk back out to my extensive bedroom. Looking out of my windows I see the pure morning sky.

"Open both of the doors to the balcony. Then put my hair curler on. The fat one that makes the big ringlets." I instruct.

Most people expect the Court to be filled with rude, narcissistic, materialistic, and shallow people. I like to believe that I am not rude, narcissistic, or shallow. But I am undeniably materialistic.

Ever since I could talk I've loved all things fashion. This led to the custom-made closet my father had installed in my room for my tenth birthday.

He cannot earn my love, so he attempts to buy it instead.

All I must do is type in the keywords for the clothing that I was looking for. Then my options that the closet's computer had narrowed down would appear on the touch screen for me to select. The closet stores all of my clothing, shoes, and accessories. Except for my jewelry, there is an entire vanity dedicated to my jewelry.

"Kennedy," I said as I typed the words 'green' and 'jumpsuit'. "What is my schedule for today?"

"Your agenda today is breakfast with the family at nine-thirty. Then a forty-five-minute slot has been cleared for your personal time with King Joshua and Queen Lynn."

"Will my father be there?" I interrupt, selecting my clothing and moving onto shoes.

"I have been informed that King Joshua will not be in attendance," Kennedy replies.

"Figures," I mutter. Waving my hand to indict that they should continue.

"After that, you will attend your lessons until lunch at one o'clock."

I've moved on to searching for accessories.

"Then, from two to four in the afternoon you have a meeting with Daniel the Great and his wife Queen Kelly. Along with the King and Queen." Kennedy pauses. " The rest of your schedule says 'to be determined' until dinner at six forty-five."

That's odd. I've never had a formal meeting with both my grandparents and parents before. Shaking my head slightly I press the white button next to the keyboard. My outfit comes out of the window.

An emerald green jumpsuit. The sleeves are made of two separate pieces of tulle that are cinched together at my wrist with a golden band. Then a golden belt that looks more like a rope with tassels is woven through the loops at my waist. I leave it untied and hanging against my thighs. I pair the outfit with a black pair of heels. The straps of the shoes criss-cross around my foot and clasp at the base of my ankle.

Once dressed I venture back into the bathroom. The tub has been drained the flowers cleared out.

My stringy wet hair is brushed out and blow-dried before I continue. Kennedy slicks my hair back into a tight ponytail at the top of my head. While they busy themselves with the curler and form my hair into soft ringlets I do my makeup and select my jewelry.

A golden band around each of my fingers along with a think golden chain with an emerald on the end.

"So where is this uncomfortable endeavor taking place?"I question Kennedy as we descend from the children's tower. All of the bedrooms that belong to me and my siblings are in the largest wing of the castle.

"Breakfast is in the sunroom this morning," They answer from a few steps behind me.

"Brace yourself, Emmalyne," I mutter to myself once we walk into the sunrooms eating area.

Everyone is already seated once I sit. Aside from Bobby, but he's never on time. As soon as my bum touches the seat the kitchens staff flood around us brandishing food. A platter of french toast on set down in front of me.

Once they disperse the pleasantries begin. I tuck my napkin into my lap before delicately cutting my food.

"Good morning Emmalyne," My grandfather smiles sipping his beverage.

"And to you," I reply shortly, placing a raspberry in my mouth.

My father sits at the head of the table. My mother across from him. Because I am heir to the throne I sit directly to my father's right. Grandfather to his left. Then to my mother's left, my Grandmother sits then across from her Bobby attempts to slip in unnoticed.

Mother does not let that happen. "Wonderful of you to join us, Robert." She smiles slicing a mango.

He offers a suppressed grin to the table before tearing into his sausage. Bobby and I have had a delicate relationship ever since I was eight. I don't blame him for being resentful towards me. Because he is the eldest out of the six of us. But as it states in the 'Rules of the Court', "If the firstborn heir is seen to be unfit for the thone the eldest member of the Royal Court will pick the next child they see fit."

Bobby was deemed unfit by the time he turned ten. For the next month, I and the rest of my siblings were put under close observation until I was selected to inherit the throne. He resented me for it.

His hatred towards me was the root of my many upsets as an early teenager. I spent six years of my life begging for him to forgive me. By the time I was fourteen though my life had little time for such childish matters, like sibling relationships. I eventually came to accept that he would hate me forever and moved on with my life.

Grandfather kept an annoyingly close eye on us as children. He would sit in on all of our lessons, we used to school together, until we turned ten, It was that very room where it was decided that Bobby was unfit to be king.

A month and two days after, all of the extra lessons Bobby received were then taught to me and were continually taught to me for the next decade. Ever since I was eight I have been preparing to be Queen of Legibus.

I have one year and six months.

"When is the next Conference of Kingdoms?" I ask sipping my coffee.

"That's a stupid question" He replies not looking up from the paper he's reading. "You know what day each conference falls on, Emmalyne. What day is that?"

"The thirty-first," I reply with a sigh.

"And when is that?" His tone is patronizing enough to make me sick.

"Three days," I say.

"Well, there's your answer then."

"Excuse me," I mutter bitterly sipping on my coffee. "Saviors forbid we have a conversation at the table."

"A conversation?" My grandfather muses looking over at me. "What would you like to talk about Emmalyne?"

He does not give time to respond.

"Oh I know, how about we talk about your age."

"Her age?" My father questions.

"Yes," He replies. "Emmalyne, you are eighteen years and six months old. By the time the next six months are to pass you're supposed to be married, yet we still don't have a suitor for you."

The rest of the room has gone quiet. My father purses his lips.

"If you do not submit someone soon the court will select a man for you." My grandfather continues. "We need a suitor or two by the end of the next week. Because along with wedding prep he will need to go through the trial and his court training, which will take up the very small window of time we have. So Emmalyne I advise you to hurry."

My father looks down at me. "If you would like a say on the man you marry you best get to it."

I wait for a moment checking to see if they're done.

I know I'm in the wrong. I have approximately half a year to select a spouse, but I've done a wonderful job at procrastinating it. So they need to be selected within the next four months. I'm supposed to be married before I am coordinated to be Queen. That way the King can be coordinated alongside his Queen.

"My apologies, "I say thickly. "Consider it done."

I muster a smile and check the ornate clock on the southern wall. It's four minutes until ten. I delicately wipe my mouth before pushing out of my chair.

"Excuse me," I say softly. "I have a small matter to attend to before my personal visits." I'm unable to keep the drip of venom that taints my final words as I lean down next to my father's ear.

As I walk from the sunroom I hear several chairs scrape against the stone floors behind me. That will be my siblings getting up and leaving the table. I know what they're thinking.

'Emmalyne is the future Queen. If she's gone; then what's the point of us staying?'

The sunroom is at the back of the palace. I walk all the way to the front of the castle with my thoughts swimming. I touch the solid doors with the flat of my palms before spinning around.

Kennedy stands underneath the giant family portrait hung on the wall. I take a steady breath before speaking. A princess's voice never falters.

"Go," I dismiss. "You aren't allowed to be present during personal time anyways. I can walk myself to the eastern wing."

They nod before turning around and walking into a small hall I haven't ever spared a second glance at.

I'm so deep in my own thoughts I've traveled halfway to the eastern wing before I realize I even moved from the front entrance.

Either something has happened with the other kingdoms or my hand is being forced. I think to myself as I wring my fingers. I'm taking too long to find a man. That's what the meeting is about later.

It clicks inside my head as I turn the final corner. At the very end of the hall stands my parent's chamber. The solid door is painted ruby red with a sparkling diamond knob. I'm halfway down the hall when the door swings open.

My mother sits in a stiff armchair by the window bay. Her posture is impeccable as she gazes out at the window at the stables. I see Juliet riding her snow-white horse in the distance as I sit across from my mother in an equally as stiff chair.

"Good morning, Mother." I smile.

"Emmalyne," she grins, the smile not reaching her eyes. "How are you?"

"Wonderful," I answer. "I actually was wondering something."

"Well, that's why we make this time for you." She replies.

I have to swallow my scoff. 'We' she said. I don't see my father anywhere. "Do you and father sleep in the same bed?"

"What?" She gasps. I can tell that was not a question she was expecting. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know there are two chambers," I start as I gesture to the double doors on either side of the room. "So, the better question is, do you and father share a bed chamber?"

"I see your father was useful at breakfast this morning," My mother murmurs to herself. She sounds slightly bitter. "And to answer your question, we do."

I nod. That information was less helpful than anticipated. "Tell me how you met him."

My mother smiles to herself. "Well in all honesty, there is not much to tell. You see, your father never bothered with selecting a spouse. He was much too busy working on finalizing a new law at the time. He left the selection of his spouse up to the Court.

"One day, two soldiers came to my house with a scroll of parchment. I was summoned to the palace. As were three other women. After a forty-day trial, the others were sent home, that was the day met him."

"Wait, "I interrupt. "But it's a sixty-day trial, not forty."

"No," My mother corrects. "It's a sixty-day trial for the person selected by the prince or princess. But the Court is much more efficient with who they choose in the first place. So twenty days worth of trial isn't needed."

"Oh," I force out. "I didn't know that."

"Anything else?" She inquires, her face looks tired.

"Why did you have six children?" I request.

My mother turns scornful. "I must admit. I'm not exactly proud of it. We had Robert because it was required. But in the time I was expecting him and when he was a little baby the Court wasn't breathing down your father's neck as much. We were able to become closer and be more of a family. I gave birth to Robert because I had to. I gave birth to the rest of you because I wanted to."

Something twists in my stomach. Was she trying to be kind? Admitting that she wanted me and not my brother? I feel sick.

"Well," I say standing abruptly. "I expect I'll be seeing you later. For now, I must attend to my lessons."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Technically speaking I finished my lessons two years ago. I completed my ten-year education by age sixteen. But that doesn't include the things I have to learn and train to be prepared for the court.

My lunch started almost over an hour ago. But instead of taking it in my work chamber like I usually do, instead, I just had it delivered to my lessons room.

I slowly chew on my sandwich as I watch a documentary of a woman named Queen Elizabeth II becoming Queen of a country that used to be called England.

I finish my food as two o'clock grows nearer. I'm not sure when Kennedy rejoined me, but I see them standing by the doorway, waiting, silently.

I put my face in my hands dreading the meeting to come.

"Where am I meeting the Elders?" I question through my fingers.

"The conference room, princess."

I jump in spite of myself. The conference room is only ever used for when Legiubus hosts the Conference of Kingdoms. But then again that location makes sense. I am the only child of the Court who has access to the conference room. My siblings won't be able to eavesdrop. Although, I highly doubt they care.

I reluctantly stand. "If I must."

So we walk to the southern wing. Thankfully there is a tele-lift from the main floor to the conference room. Which is at the very top of the highest tower. At the entrance to this tower is a solid, thick, marble door. I place my hand flat just above the golden knob. Suddenly the area around my hands glows white before blinking green and the doors swing open.

We then enter a small room. Which is just solid marble throughout. The doors swing shut behind us leaving me to stand in soft yellow light. After a few seconds the doors swing open again, but this time I walk into the conference room and not a corridor.

I have teleported up eight stories for the dull view of the Elders. Also known as, Mother, Father, Grandmother, and Grandfather.

The conference room is large and lined with windows. Pouring beautiful sunlight into every inch of the circular room.

The table we are seated at is much smaller than the one we use for the Conference of Kingdoms. Leaving just one seat available when I arrive. One seat for me.

I nod to each of them as I take my seat. "Good afternoon."

They say it back. Like every respectable member of the Court should. But, now, it's down to business.

"Emmalyne," my father begins. "Do you have any idea what this meeting is in reference to?"

"I have a few guesses. But why don't we just save some time and you just tell me outright." The venom in my voice surprises me. I was unaware of all the spite inside of me until now. When it's all compressed in my chest.

I see my grandmother press down a smile.

"Emmalyne, it's high time you picked a husband." My grandfather states bluntly.

I knew it.

"Why?" I demand. "I've got plenty of time for that. Why now?"

"Like you and your father discussed this morning." My mother jumps in. "The conference in Adiefex is in three days. We would like to have something to tell them rather than nothing."

The pressure in my chest increases. The fury inside desperate to explode out.

"Why me then? Robert turns twenty-one in seven months. He hasn't a wife yet!"

"Robert," my grandfather cuts in before I can raise my voice further, "has a noble-woman who is thirty days into her trial."

I feel my lip twitch.

"Emmalyne," My father speaks. "We are here to talk about you. Sloan is sixteen and she has already submitted eight potential suitors names for when she turns eighteen. Even Marcus is beginning to show interest in women."

"That's ridiculous," I spit. "Marcus isn't old enough to begin courting."

"He turns fourteen in just a month." My mother reminds me.

"But they aren't here!" My grandfather yells. "They are also not the reason we are here! We are here to discuss Emmalyne."

But I'm still mad. It seems to be my parent's hobby to compare my siblings and myself to one another. I've never taken kindly to it.

"Now," I start, bitterly, "correct me if I'm wrong. But last I checked, Bobby's wife will not become queen. Sloan's husband will not rule an entire kingdom beside her. Marcus' wife will not make decisions with the Court that will affect every single living person on our planet! So excuse me for being a little reluctant to select a spouse."

My mother looks nonplussed by my reaction. My father's face holds a sour expression. My grandmother is practically glowing with pride and my grandfather just looks tired.

"Are you done?" he demands with a hint of annoyance.

I just fold my arms and slouch back into my chair. I'm extremely close to putting my feet on the table. But that would be taking it too far.

My mother bites at my silence quickly. "We want to have a ball."

My anger is quickly replaced by shock. I do my best not to stutter. "A ball?"

"Yes, a ball." My father responds. "We are inviting sixty young men that have deemed fit for you to marry."

"It's not a bunch of snobs with poles up their backsides, I hope." I spit back quickly, unable to restrain myself.

You think after ten years they would have gotten used to my rude mannerisms. But apparently not. My mother looks so appalled she has lost the ability to speak.

My grandfather takes advantage of the silence. He speaks seemly unfazed by my atrocious manners. "Naturally we knew that you would have liked to have creative freedom and plan the event. Emmalyne, you are also being given the option to invite other men if you wish them to be there."

"That is where we disagree," My grandmother winks at me. "It should not be an option. Emmalyne should be required to invite at least two men. The poor girl shouldn't have to marry someone the Court chose. She should be able to marry a man she at least feels a connection with. No matter how small."

"What if the men I choose have already been invited," I ask, in search of a loophole.

"Then they get two invitations."

I sit for a moment. Letting them wait before I inevitably accept something I never really had a choice in. "Fine."

"Wonderful," My father smiles. "What did you have in mind?"

"We're planning it now?" I ask beside myself. "Can't I just do the work on my own and have some servants take you each a copy?"

My father shakes his head. "We're planning it now."

I sigh loudly. They all stare at me. I've always had a knack for planning things. Especially when it comes to clothing and themes.

"Black and white," I begin. "The entire ballroom is to be decorated black and white, along with everyone's attire. Grey is also suitable. I alone will wear a golden dress. If the ball is for me then I shall be the center of attention. "

The Elders all nod their approval.

"My siblings are not allowed to attend. They know too much of me and the Court. They mustn't be given the opportunity to spread rumors amount the Nobel-men. There will be no fancy dinner, it will be a catered event with servants walking around with trays of food and drink.

"Having cameras will be best. Do not make the event required viewing, then people will feel as if their hand is forced. But they will watch anyway. Anything for a glimpse at the future king. " I tally each thing off on my fingers.

"O'Brian," My father snaps. "Have you gotten all that written down?"

"Yes my king," One of the three servants behind my father answers.

"Send those notes to Kennedy," I order. "I will go over what we have come up with today and finalize the plans by the end of the week. I report should reach you all by Friday evening."

"Very well, Emmalyne," My mother yawns. "You may go."

As I sweep from the room I cannot help but mutter under my breath, "As if I need your permission to do anything."