ZARA

My name is Zara, the sixth princess of Galvia, and this is me sitting on the ground with my horse riding attire, fake crying because I fell and my butt hurts. I know, I know, it's not very princess-like, but honestly, who needs dignity when you've just taken a tumble off a horse?

I mean, I'm supposed to be a skilled equestrian, but apparently, my skills don't include staying on a horse. Who knew? Anyway, here I am, sitting on the ground, trying to muster up some tears to make my fall look more dramatic.

It's not easy being a princess, folks. Sometimes you have to fake cry to get some sympathy. But hey, at least I'm getting some practice in for when I have to attend all those boring royal functions.

As a princess, I'm supposed to be kept and composed, always maintaining a regal demeanor. But if I'm being completely honest, you can say I'm not very princess-like. I'd rather ride horses than attend tea parties, and I've been known to get my hands dirty from time to time.

I know, I know, it's not exactly what you'd expect from a member of the royal family. But I've never been one to follow the rules or conform to expectations. I'm a bit of a rebel, even if I do wear a tiara from time to time.

Ugh, who might that be? I was having such a great time wallowing in my own misery. I slowly get up, dust myself off, and try to compose myself. I take a deep breath and put on a fake smile, preparing myself for whoever is calling out to me.

"Coming, Mother!' I shout back, trying to sound cheerful. I roll my eyes and mutter under my breath, 'Like it matters anyway...' I trudge along, my feet heavy with reluctance, wondering what I've done wrong this time.

As I round the corner, I see my mother, the queen, standing with her arms crossed and a disapproving look on her face. 'Zara, what have I told you about getting dirty and disheveled?' she scolds, shaking her head.

I sigh inwardly, knowing I'm in for a lecture. Again.

I apologized profusely, but my mother just wouldn't let up. 'Zara, you're a princess,' she reminded me for what felt like the hundredth time. 'You need to conduct yourself with dignity and poise at all times. Your stepsisters, Daphne and Sophia, are always so well-behaved and elegant. Why can't you be more like them?'

I felt my frustration simmering just below the surface, but I knew better than to let it boil over. Getting angry at my mother, the queen, would only lead to more trouble. So I took a deep breath and bit back my retort, instead opting for a more diplomatic response.

"I'll try to do better, Mother,' I promised, forcing a contrite smile onto my face. 'I'll work harder to be more like Daphne and Sophia.'

My mother's expression softened slightly at my words, and she nodded in approval. 'That's all I can ask for, Zara. Now, let's get you cleaned up and ready for dinner. We have guests arriving soon.'

I couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment whenever my mother compared me to my stepsisters. Hannah, Zoey, and Diara were all married off to suitable princes and lords, and now it was just me, Daphne, and Sophia left in the palace.

Daphne and Sophia were the epitome of 'princessy' - they were always perfectly coiffed, elegantly dressed, and impeccably mannered. They were the kind of princesses who made it look effortless, and my mother couldn't help but hold them up as examples for me to follow.

But I wasn't like them. I never had been. I was more of a wildflower, always getting into mischief and mayhem, while Daphne and Sophia were more like delicate roses, carefully pruned and cultivated.

I hated being compared to them, hated being made to feel like I was somehow less of a princess because I didn't fit the traditional mold. But my mother just didn't seem to get it.

I walked into my room, feeling a bit deflated after my mother's lecture. Sara, my loyal handmaid, was already waiting for me, a warm smile on her face. 'Let me help you get cleaned up, Princess,' she said, moving to assist me.

But I shook my head, feeling a bit stubborn. 'No, Sara, I can do it myself.' I didn't want anyone's help right now, not even Sara's. I just wanted to be left alone to process my thoughts.

Sara looked at me with concern, but she didn't push the issue. 'Very well, Princess. I'll just leave you to it, then.' She curtsied and backed out of the room, leaving me to my own devices.

I sighed and began to peel off my dirty riding clothes, feeling a bit lost and uncertain. Why did my mother always have to compare me to Daphne and Sophia? Why couldn't she just accept me for who I was?

I couldn't shake off the feeling that this dinner guest had something to do with my impending marriage. As the sixth princess, I knew I was of marrying age, just like Daphne and Sophia. We were all around the same age, with Daphne and I being only two months younger than Sophia, and I being just a few days older than Daphne.

I flopped down onto my bed, feeling a mix of anxiety and curiosity. Who could this guest be? A potential suitor? A prince from a neighboring kingdom? I had heard rumors of a prince from the kingdom of Everwood who was looking for a bride... could it be him?

I sighed and rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. I didn't want to get married, not yet anyway. I was still young and wanted to enjoy my freedom, not be tied down to some stuffy prince. But I knew my parents would never agree to that. After all, marriage was a duty, a way to secure alliances and strengthen the kingdom.

I got up from my bed and walked over to the window, staring out at the gardens below. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the entire scene. I felt a sense of peace wash over me, but it was short-lived.

My mind quickly returned to the mystery guest, and I found myself wondering what he could be like. Was he old and boring, or young and charming? Was he kind and gentle, or stern and demanding?

I sighed and turned away from the window, knowing I wouldn't have any answers until dinner. I began to get ready, my hands moving automatically as I washed and dressed. My mind, however, was still preoccupied with thoughts of the mystery guest.

I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as I made my way to the dining hall. What if the guest was a suitor for one of us? What if I was expected to marry him? I wasn't ready for marriage, not yet. I was still young and wanted to enjoy my freedom.

As I entered the dining hall, I saw my parents, Daphne, and Sophia already seated. The guest was standing by the window, his back to us. I couldn't see his face, but he seemed tall and broad-shouldered.

My heart sank as I realized that he was indeed a young man, likely around our age. This didn't look good. I glanced over at Daphne and Sophia, who were both looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

The guest turned around, and our eyes met. He smiled, and I felt a jolt of surprise. He was handsome, with piercing blue eyes and chiseled features. But that didn't change the fact that I wasn't ready for marriage.

I tore my gaze away from his, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. I couldn't believe the way my body had reacted to him. It was like my heart had skipped a beat, and my skin was still tingling from the intensity of his gaze.

But I wasn't going to let some handsome stranger sweep me off my feet. I was still not interested in getting married, no matter how attractive he was.

I took a deep breath and made my way to my seat, trying to composed myself. As I sat down, I couldn't help but steal another glance at him. He was smiling at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I quickly looked away, feeling my heart flutter in my chest. This was not good. I needed to keep my wits about me and not let his charm get the better of me.

My father, the king, stood up and cleared his throat, breaking the silence. 'Everyone, please welcome our guest, Prince Henry of Everwood.'

My eyes snapped back to Prince Henry, and I felt my stomach drop. Prince Henry? Of Everwood? This was not what I had expected.