A noose around my neck, for which I was born with. Adalaid Prolet, the straight A student, master of stringed insturments, aritst of chalk and oil, sharpshooter… the princess. next in line for the throne.

“Keep your head up Addy, you shall be queen.’

“Do not cry Adalade, you will be queen.”

“Make haste, Miss Prolet, your kingdom is waiting.’

What if I don’t want it? I want free-will. I want to shop the merchants boothes without people bowing to me. I want to go to school with the civilian children. I want the life of a child with parents who had me by choice and not by duty. I want to be a peasent, someone nobody looks at twice. I want to be praised for my successes becuase those that love me are proud, not because it is my duty to be great.

What does it feel like to fail an exam? How does it feel to be hit with a ball in physical education? How does it feel to walk the streets, not knowing the weight of an entire govern of people relying on you to fix the issues nobdy has been able to fix in centuries?

A noose around my neck, for which I have tied. What will it feel like for the air to leave my lungs and never return?

I step from the throne, and feel as I fade, as the weight leaves my body and becomes elsewhere.