I jerk out of my deep sleep to birds chirping at my window, screaming their praise for a new day. My head pounded from the large bottle of wine I inhaled late last night and come to think of it, there may have been more than one bottle. It felt like tiny bugs were stabbing my soft brain with their pointy claws.

I turn away from the light splintering through the window and fling an arm over my eyes, doing my best to soothe the wounds the world is targeting. The sun breaking through the windows indicated it was the beginning of the day I had been dreading. Today was to be the day I was to be married.

Now, most girls in the kingdom would be tripping over themselves for the chance to enmesh their lives with a cocky prince, but I had enough wits to know what a boring life looked like. It’s not that I wasn’t grateful for the opportunity to prove my worth and unite our kingdoms (I wasn’t), or that I had any aversion to Prince Troy (I did), but I had more important things to do with my life. Those very important, specific things included reading the latest novel, feeding the kitchen mice pieces of cheese, and riding my wild mare through the forest surrounding the castle. I was obviously very busy and obviously did not have any time to waste on a boring, stuffy, predictable man.

I hear the door swing open before Jenny lets out a singing good morning, I’m sure coming to check that I hadn’t thrown myself out the window in petulance. I roll to my side and hug my knees high up to my chest, letting out a loud groan at the unfairness of it all. She was as bad as the birds.

“Miss Heather! Let’s get up and get to it should we?” I swear to God I heard a twirl before she snatched the covers off my poor, helpless body. She was a horrid, overly happy woman. I ignore her efforts by bundling my body tighter together.  

“Now, that’s no attitude to have on the happiest day of your life!” Jenny pats my arm before heading to the armoire, swinging the overstuffed doors wide.

“I think you’re being a bit small minded if you believe this is the happiest day of my life. There are many other things to be overjoyed about.” I push myself out of the despair that’s attempting to keep me immobile and watch as my handmaid shoves around the dresses looking for the one I know is her focus. She stops and spins to face me, hands on her lovely hips. She had the cutest little figure and was excellent at enhancing her best features.

Jenny simply raises a brow at me, waiting.

“Oh, for Gods sakes, don’t pressure me so much! I yield! Don’t turn me to ash with such poison!” Her response is a giggle, yet she doesn’t stop her assaultive behavior. Witch.

I step off the raised bed and turn to drop to my knees, hands reaching far under the bed to find the wad of dress I shoved underneath it. I stand and turn guilty, handing it over.

All the reprimanding I get is a shake of her head before the bundle is snatched from my arms. Jenny heads to the main door and swings it open, calling in the other maids to help with this dreadful morning. The girls shove their eager bodies in, excited at the chance to assist the princess on her wedding day, while Jenny hangs the dress and attempts to fluff it. I kid you not, this time I do see one of the girls twirl in her tooled dress. In her defense, she is a girl in a beautiful dress and it would be a crime to not twirl at that opportunity.

One of the maids steps forward and hands me a box tied with a white silk ribbon. “From Prince Troy.” She blushes and steps back, waiting for me to open it. I sigh and unravel the present, expecting something frilly and dumb. I love frilly and dumb, live for it really, but not when it comes with expectations attached to it.

I place the box beside me and reach through the soft wrapping, pulling out silky undergarments. I immediately let out a horrified scream and throw them as far as I can before inspecting them too closely.

Jenny huffs as she goes to pick up the delicate clothing. “You are being overly dramatic this morning! I think they’re lovely. A woman can never have too many garments that make her feel desirable.” She goes to place them on a hanger next to the wedding dress I tried to dispose of.

“I would rather chew on glass than put those on.” One of the maids clutches her throat, gasping at the words I very calmly and logically said and I feel like she is the one being quite dramatic this morning.

Jenny claps her hands and tells the girls to leave and return only when she calls for them and then turns to me.

“You are being absurd, which isn’t new, but this is a whole new level. I thought we decided to try and be civil about this? What happened?”

I feel tears welling in my eyes, giving away my deeper feelings. The acts before were honestly no different than any other morning so I am a little confused as to why she’s making a big deal of it. Jenny is used to my theatrics and doesn’t take the outbursts seriously, or personally.

“I cannot bear the thought of giving up who I am for the sake of this kingdom. I love my people, although I don’t know them very well. And I have no friends.” I sniff. She sits beside me on the bed, laying a hand against the back of mine. “It’s your duty,” is the only comfort she provides, and my heart sinks further.

I bow my head as she stands and walks to the door, pausing before leaving. Leaving? She softly says over her shoulder without looking at me,” I need to leave for an hour or so. There’s an important matter I must attend to in the wedding planning.” I don’t offer a response, confused at her sudden departure when we both know it takes me years to get dressed properly. “I suggest going for a ride to clear your head, my lady.” And she shuts the door.

What the fuck?

I shake my head, entirely confused about the interaction that just transpired. Jenny knew I often felt stifled because she was my only real friend that knew me, and she was hired to help me. This aside, I do know she cares for me, and she does her best to help me when I need it. Our code was her telling me to go for a ride to clear my head, and I often wouldn’t return until late that evening and sometimes I would even lay overnight in the stars, my mare Tart chopping on the grass around me. I felt unsure about the use of our code in this situation.

Was Jenny telling me to run?

I hesitate for just a few more breaths before lurching to my feet, eyes shooting around the room to look for my suitcase. Once I spot it resting next to the armoire, I lay it flat on the floor and expose its pathetically shallow insides. Unwilling to allow this to stop me, I head to the dresses in the armoire and start grabbing all my favorites and after a moment I realize that unfortunately I have too many favorites for this particular situation.

I ignore the pile and head to the bathing room, pulling my favorite oils and cosmetics from the wooden tabletops. After gingerly setting them on the bed and ignoring the pang at the large pile, I start snatching books off my shelves. After my utmost favorites are once again grabbed, my heart once again falls out of my ass. There’s no way all my favorites can go. No way at all they’ll fit in this pathetic suitcase’s body cavity. Even if I could ask for help from one of the maids (Can’t), there is no way that it could all fit!

I let my legs cross under me while my rump plops onto the floor under me. God this task feels incredibly tiring. How do people know what to take with them on their travels? How do they know what they might need? I picture the possibility of fruit dripping on my bodice or of the likely hood of me smelling less flowery than usual (Gasp). Lastly, how do you choose your favorite novel?

In one story, Ronny and Kate start out bickering and by the halfway mark they’re under their bed sheets in most of the scenes.

Ben and Lilly start out madly in love, only for little miss Lilly to be snatched up by the stable boy. I really can’t blame her because I too am a sucker for dark curls.

And last, and certainly not least, Charlotte. Her story is a bit different. This heroine starts off lonely and sad. She has nothing other than her help to keep her company while her father and mother rule over a grand kingdom. She is left to her own devices, expected to be seen and never heard but given anything materialistic that she desires. Charlotte yearns for a life of adventure and the possibilities that exist in her world, a world where she’s allowed to run free and scream and fight and fuck (Important). It only takes a few scenes for the reader to get to know her before the reader is rooting for her escape as well. Quickly, the story runs into one of escape and life in the unknown. It talks of being hungry, dirty, poor. It shows her meeting new friends and sharing life with like-minded people. It rolls out the hurt and the joy, side by side unflinchingly. Charlotte’s story is not simple, and it isn’t easy, but is so full of experience.

Happiness is all anyone wants, but few are willing to hunt for it. The hunt is painful, and your victory is not guaranteed but I believe that’s why few ever actually achieve it. People would rather be comfortable instead of stepping a shaky foot forward on an unknown path. Comfort is a poison leaking into your brain, distracting you from your potential. Spoiled, dramatic, and worthless I may be but a coward I have never been.

I grab Miss Charlotte’s story, my lavender oil, and 2 dresses. I kneel to a lower shelf next to my bedside and grab my hidden stash of strawberry wine, which I’ve decided to forgive for this mornings headache.

Once my final favorites are placed in the case, I see that I have more room left. Just a pinch of room, but I could fit something in the space. After a moment of thinking, I clip the suitcase closed and decide to leave the bit of space. I want to leave room for the things I pick up on the way, and if I’m unwilling to let things go then there isn’t room for anything new.

I head to the window to sneak out and barely spare my bedroom a backward glance. I focus forward on getting to Tart, figuring out how I can ride an extended period sidesaddle comfortably, and how in the hell I’m going to latch this case beside me. A grin breaks my face at the realization of the new possibilities already laying out before me.

I leave my boring, stuffy, predictable life behind and begin my hunt for happiness.