“After your stunt at your royal wedding last night, your father and I have decided to send you to a wilderness convent!”

Her words ring true as my crown is stripped from me. An emptiness is left behind in its place, almost like I was stripped naked. Prickling sensations run up and down my arms as I adjust into my new uniform. The thin black fabric covers every inch of me, the collar reaching up to the top of my neck. Every day I’m going to look like a walking, talking turtle.

How wonderful.

The expansive church stands tall, but not as tall as the trees shrouding it. My screams for help would just barely reach the sky before being baraccaded by the canopy of branches.

The only positive I can turn to is my roommate Liviana. She landed in this situation the same way as I have: by rebelling against the confines she was forced in.

“Every day, we have our studies outside. We pray to Mother Nature before every meal, and if you take even a single nibble or sip during that time, Mother Lora will have your head.”

My attention towards her instructions is fleeting as I focus on my hair. The rags we are given stifle my voluminous blonde curls. I attempt to use my comb to style the dirty cloth in a way I find suitable. Already, I miss my crown, the one adorned with amethysts locked away in Mother Lora’s office.

“And if you get in enough trouble, then you will spend as many days as they give you working until you bleed.” Liviana’s thin, veiny hands snatch the comb. Her black hair certainly needs it more, as whisps of it float in the air and the thicker strands twist together in knots. She rips the rag and ties it tight around my head, the pressure giving me a slight headache. The dirt caked in it’s edges gets into a lock of hair, and I curl inside myself.

“You’ll get used to the grime eventually. They don’t get cleaner no matter how many times you wash them.” Liviana said flatly. “Come on, it’s almost time. We cannot be late.”

When Liviana, slips out of the room, I do not move. My body rejects my mind’s command, and instead my eyes drift to the window. The blades of grass ahead dance with the wind, accompanying the fireflies among them. Their flickers of light return my thoughts to the castle with its crystal chandeliers and intricate stained glass. In here, I feel like an old doll stuffed in a basement waiting for the years to deform me with mold and cobwebs.

But, no matter where I am still royalty. Royalty doesn’t spend their days in a wilderness convent. They command their people while bringing greatness to past and future generations. Responsibility is held on their shoulders. Every building and road is under their command, their jurisdiction.

My eyes turn up, expecting the family portrait that hangs above the thrones. The frame takes over the entire marble wall, and the people who walk before it gaze upon it with jaws open. Sometimes, the sheer size of it appalls even me. Instead, the big hand of the clock is seconds away from stricking seven. Anxiety floats in my stomach.

For now, I will smile and obey. But I will find a way to get my crown back.