Part 1 – here

It took a long time to find the exact way to make a princess disappear. The idea came when Elanore had to go meet her betrothed and his family. On the way the caravan made a stop in a beautiful clearing, a good few miles outside the kingdom. Just far enough that a very fast girl could walk there in about a day. Then came the next step, which was planting the resources for her survival. A few weeks later, Theo had to go on a trip with the academy, and he hid a backpack and a few other things in a hollow tree just off the road, one they spotted when they were there last. And finally – the reason for leaving. Grace had thought about this for a long time now. Almost one and a half years. She was turning sixteen and she knew that her parents were already scouting out who she could marry. That had to be stopped. And therefore, she stood before the large oaken door, hands nervously straitened the purple silk dress before she knocked.
“Yes?” her mother called, and she stepped in and bowed her head for the king and queen. “Ah, Grace, my dear” her mother’s smile was welcoming and warm. “May I talk?” Grace asked, noting the eyebrow her father raised. “Of course?” her mother replied.
“I have decided what I want” Grace stated, steeling herself to conceal the lie “I want to go on a pilgrimage to the cloister in Marysville. And become a nun” her voice almost cracked at the end, but she caught it.
“Really?” her father replied, “you have never seemed to take interest in religion” he continued but Grace nodded “Yes father”.
Her mother didn’t look convinced “but… a pilgrimage” she said “that’s… not-“
Grace cut her off “I must. I must have time for my thoughts and devote myself. The walk from here to Marysville will take three days. I’ll stop at night at the inns we passed when Ellie had to travel” silence now clung to the shadows. A deep, unsettling silence.

Her parents were religions to some degree. The same as everyone outside the churches and cloisters. They obeyed the commands from the gods, praised the life they lived and blessed the people they saw as a matter of routine. From visiting a cloister or church a few times a year, to going on a pilgrimage, however short, was a leap and a half. Yet – they couldn’t deny their daughter her faith, right?
Grace was sent out; her parents were now disturbed by this news. Her father was not willing to let her go, but her mother, the sweet loving queen defended her daughter’s wish. A sour taste filled Graces mouth as she waited. And waited. Hours stretched to days as she paced her room. What would she do if they refused?
Finally the knock on the door came and she rushed to open it. Her mother stood with a kind smile, and a tired look in her brown eyes. “May I?” she asked and Grace let her in, her mother settling on the bed. “Your father has accepted that you wish to join the cloister” she said, Grace allowed hope to fill her for a brief second before her mother spoke again “but not the pilgrimage. He will personally deliver you at the cloister when we travel back from Eleanor’s wedding”

The plan shattered as Grace stared. From being free, to suddenly being trapped forever. In a cloister of all places. She hid the stinging feeling in her eyes as she nodded. Elanore had set off a three days ago and would arrive in Duskwell in two days. Then two days later, the family would set off, going to the eldest daughter’s wedding. And then… Graces life would end behind cloister walls. She felt heavy. Like someone had places a boulder on her chest. She would never be able to go running in the woods. To watch the foxes, play in the meadow. She just wanted to be free. To live without the title and expectations. And now she had inadvertently bound herself to the gods. To a false praise, until her age crept up and ended her. How long? Seventy years? Eighty? She almost considered just jumping from the tower to get it over with and just die – but she couldn’t. Her mother left and Grace just sat, staring into nothingness as grief overtook her.

Little did Grace know that this was not the only grief waiting in the night. As a carriage, a long way from the kingdom, were attacked and burned. When the morning sun rose, a passing farmer called upon the guards of Duskwell who found the horrible scene.
As the family prepared to go to a wedding, the doors opened to let in a King, and his son. As the Kings met, the Queen wept for her daughter. Yet it was not only a message that was delivered. It was a business deal. A princess had died. A wedding was called off. A king had made a promise to deliver a princess – and there was only one who was old enough.