Just a game

"I cannot believe this! Why didn't you tell me?" Fiona's voice cracked, her eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and hurt. The ballroom, once a dazzling spectacle, now felt like a suffocating cage. Dimitri, her confidante, her friend… he had betrayed her.

Dimitri flinched, his usual composure faltering. "Fiona, let me explain..." His voice was soft, laced with a plea for understanding.

"Explain what exactly?" Fiona's voice rose, her anger echoing in the sudden hush of the space around them. "That I was brought here to pretend to be a fake princess? That the real reason you didn't want me to work was because it would ruin my skin? That you've been fattening me up like a prize pig for the slaughter?"

Dimitri's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He had never seen her this angry, this… fierce. He glanced around the garden, hoping that Maria and the others wouldn't overhear their conversation. The flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows, adding to the tension in the air.

Although he was glad he was able to convince her to go back home with him, the carriage ride back to the mansion was agonizingly silent. Fiona stared out the window, her body trembling with suppressed rage. Dimitri watched her, his heart aching with guilt and regret.

"Fiona, I understand… you're hurt, but I really—"

"You really what?" She whirled around, her eyes blazing. "I thought you did all those things because you…" She paused, her voice catching in her throat. "You know what? Never mind. After all, I am still a slave." She looked away, tears welling in her eyes, blurring the image of the man she had trusted.

Dimitri's heart shattered. He reached for her, his fingers brushing against her arm. Surprisingly, she didn't flinch away.

"I'm sorry, okay?" His voice was raw with emotion. "I just didn't know how to tell you. The princess is in a desperate situation, and she needs our help."

He saw the flicker of curiosity in her eyes, the slight softening of her expression. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to reveal the truth, at least part of it.

"Prince Eric is betrothed to Princess Vanessa," he said, his voice low. "But then this… this curse happened. She can't break the engagement because they're deeply in love. They love each other, but... it's complicated."

Fiona's anger gradually subsided, replaced by a wave of sympathy. "So what does this have to do with me?" she asked quietly.

"You need to pretend to be her. Just until the engagement is over. You don't have to get engaged; you simply need to pose as her until we can stall the engagement," he explained, his gaze pleading.

Fiona's brow furrowed, her mind racing. "Why not just be honest with her fiancé? He should understand."

"It's not that simple," Dimitri sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He may understand, but the rest of his family won't. This marriage means everything, not just to the two kingdoms, but to Vanessa as well. What we're doing may be wrong, but we're trying to save her love and protect the kingdoms."

"And what about you? Prince Eric is your brother and that makes you.."

"A prince, I know. But trust me, it's not something I want to be referred to." He hoped she wouldn't press further, and he was glad when she didn't.

He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. "We won't go through with this if you don't want to, but I'm hoping you will…"

...

Candlelight flickered across the damp cave walls, casting dancing shadows that mimicked the nervous energy in the air. A young boy, no older than thirteen, burst into the cavern.

"Takachi! News from the ball," he panted. "The princess... she attended her birthday ball."

"The princess dared," a voice hissed, sharp as a viper's strike. A tall, slender woman stepped from the shadows, her eyes glowing with an unnatural crimson light. She continued, "Even with the curse, she's still celebrating! And on this day!"

Two rough-looking men, caught mid-transaction, snarled at each other, a pile of gold coins glinting between them. One shoved the coins roughly towards the other.

The woman rounded on the figure seated on the crude stone throne. "Takachi! Let me loose on her! I'll drain her blood dry!" Claws extended from her fingertips, and her teeth lengthened into pronounced fangs.

"Patience, V," a calm voice replied. Takachi, lounging on the throne, idly flipped a knife between his fingers. "Good things come to those who wait."

"Takachi," the boy interjected, "our spy also saw a girl with the king. She had the Red Stone energy... and she looked like the princess."

"A wanderer?" V whispered, her eyes narrowing. "More of them?"

Takachi grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. His expression was wicked. "Looks like the king's playing a dangerous game."

V turned to Takachi, her voice laced with anticipation. "What does this mean?"

Takachi's grin widened. "Don't you see, V? Good things. Very good things."

...

Two weeks crawled by, each day a heavy weight on Fiona's heart. She hadn't told anyone about Dimitri's secret, the knowledge a bitter taste in her mouth. She practiced her smiles, her curtsies, her every movement, trying to mold herself into a princess, a hollow shell of a girl she barely recognized.

"So you're telling me you guys were arguing over cake?" Maria asked, her voice laced with disbelief. They were hanging laundry in the garden, the warm sunshine a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Fiona.

"Mm-hmm," Fiona mumbled, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Maria paused, her hands on her hips. "So, you mean no smooching, no nothing? Girl, you're slow! If I were in your shoes, we'd be up to position seven by midnight."

Fiona forced a laugh, but her heart wasn't in it. "Maria!!"

"What? But seriously, he likes you. And I have a feeling you like him, too," Maria teased, her eyes twinkling.

Fiona's cheeks flushed. "I don't, okay? And he doesn't either. He has a reason for being nice." She lifted the empty basket, her hands trembling slightly.

"What reason could that be?" Maria asked, her brow furrowed with suspicion.

Fiona bit her lip, the truth a heavy weight on her tongue. She couldn't tell Maria, not yet. "It's nothing," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, let's go!"

...…

"I said I wanted blueberries, not blackberries! Why are you all so dumb?" Princess Vanessa's voice, sharp with frustration, echoed through her room. The crash of porcelain against stone punctuated her words.

"Ugh!!" she groaned, her shoulders slumping as the maid scurried out of the room, her apologies echoing in the sudden silence.

Vanessa slammed the door shut, her hands trembling with rage and despair. She ripped the veil from her face, her reflection in the mirror a cruel mockery of her former self. Her skin was a sickly green, her eyes swollen and bloodshot, her nose covered in unsightly moles. She looked like a monster, a grotesque parody of a princess.

Tears streamed down her face as she remembered her childhood, a time when she was called a goddess, her beauty a source of pride and joy. She remembered Eric, her beloved, his words echoing in her mind: "You are like a flower; from now on, you are my rose." But now, she was a wilted rose, a shadow of her former self.

She collapsed onto the bed, her sobs muffled by the pillows. Why her? What did she do to deserve this? 

She longed for Eric's touch, his comforting presence. But the curse had stolen everything from her, her beauty, her freedom, her happiness. She felt a wave of despair wash over her, threatening to drown her in its depths.

Will she ever be normal again?