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Another day, another failure. Estelle aggravatingly sighed, pulling her hair out of the way for her wig. “I cannot afford anymore luxuries. What princess am I, doomed to failure?”

She sighed, staring deeply into her own reflection, fully tense and without an answer. Netheron shrouded itself in shards because of her non reliant acts of cowardice, and the whole kingdom hated her except for the cruel and defiant. Dark bags circled her eyelids with an eerie silence, as she stared at the depths of the darkened eyes with grief. Nothing could be done for the discoloration, as not even makeup hid it. She touched her skin, an outbreak of acne hidden beneath layers of makeup. She felt the little bumps, curving alongside her face and towards her neckline. She only broke out when her nerves were rattled, but each bump had become apart of her visual complexion: a dead end. She grunted at this. A princess should not be nervous...

And yet a princess like her always was.

Quietly she placed the wig onto her head. The curls flew into her face, and she batted them away. They extended long and wide in spirals, ending each with a perfect curl. She never hoped to be queen, she didn't even want to be a princess... all the townspeople saw in her, was darkness- a greedy little girl. Was she truly greedy? Did she truly possess so much hate? She puckered her cherry red lips, placing upon her some of her master lipstick with a frown. It would be hateful as a princess, to steal everything they had...

She knew she could never rule the country. Not in this state or being. A princess deserved to be loved, not hated. She should never be tainted with grief. The war went on long before her time... why should she be powerless to stop it? Her heart ached a mile over. She resisted the urge to throw off the wig and leave the room. She could never be a princess... how could she be a princess? She seemed more tyrant than not.

She could never rule the throne, but her choices were limited. Who else could attend the rain machine, and watch over it? Certainly not Esmeralda, she knew.

Why must a princess like me be so hated? She questioned. Why must a princess be so feared? When I fear for the revolution's control of my world, when I fear so much for my own safety and well being?

The revolution wanted her luxuries, she knew. They desired her cash. They needed her power, so they could destroy the rain machine and all of her inventions. She didn't know what would come after that. What sort of game would they play? They were fighting before her birth... they cheated her out of everything she ever had. Her failed warriors were the Drethanoids, who were the only thing stopping the revolution from destroying her. But even then, with them gone, what would come next?

She longed for the days of peace and quiet to return, but even with her family still around, there was horrible wars and outbreaks from the start of her life... she longed for a day of silence, where the revolution would cease to exist, and her family would still be alive and well, with no sign of grief or harm.

Her stomach twisted up with fear. Her reflection showed this fear subtly. Truly, all she wanted as to be alone, staying up until late at night to work on her inventions. She knew Esmeralda hated it when she sneaked away into her workshop, but Estelle couldn't help but want to get away from all of the corruption.

Since birth, she'd had to deal with wars of all sorts... but people used to respect her. She thought she actually had a chance to get rid of the wars that outbreak the land. But yet... she became corrupted herself... and now no one would begin to serve her.

Truly, if she had the chance to change things, would people begin to cherish her ruling as queen?

"No." She said aloud. "A princess is chained to grief for life. I've never known happiness, never know what it feels like to have no hurt from such foul-hearted people!"

She knew the horror of being a princess. She knew how hysteria crept into her veins every moment she crawled into bed. She tossed and turned with such intensity that even when she dreamed it was all static nightmares that caused her to lunge from her bed with tears. Even the most comfortable mattress could not save her from dreams that hurt her, that defied her... that made her wonder the truth. More than anything, she wanted to stop lying... to herself, to her people, to what was left of her family. Truly, she hated the lies more than she hated the truth. Her whole life deemed all but a complete lie... her family forcing lie after lies down her throat to persuade her and force her to believe what was best for her people, but she couldn't take it. She had to be honest... That was why...

She told the people about the rain machine.

They couldn't accept it. They couldn't live with the truth. But she couldn't live with the lies, the ones that controlled her. Rumors went around she had witch blood, that she was a witch... that her mother was a witch, and her father a warlock. She knew she didn't possess any magical ability... none of the sort! How could she be a witch?

How can I be honest, when I all I get is backlash?  When people hate me no matter what I do? They once loved me, I thought I had a chance to redeem my family's name. My bloodlines have nothing to do with these lies- but it's all of my fault... and now, because of me, everyone in my family is dead except for Drusilla...

She knew everyone was against her. Everyone wanted her bounty, for the uprising of the revolution to stop her. They called her a witch, a liar, a murderer. She was none of the sort...

She tightened her collar, and studied her outfit. Esmeralda and her were the only ones left she knew- and these clothes were only material objects, no matter how fancy they seemed. She wore black several months for the disappearance of her parents after receiving a telegram of their death. She knew who killed them... and she could hardly take the pain.

 The townsfolk all hated her for what she did to the poor- she withered and cried each night in bed for it... she destroyed their ecosystem, forcing them to drink her own man-made liquids and living off of her own man made food. She was lousy, no good- and that was why she hated her skin, her big eyes and small face and hardly ate her dinner let alone eat supper. Esmeralda always questioned it her cooking, but Estelle could never tell her how horrified she was. Esmeralda would never understand.

I ache. I plead. I cry. No one can understand the will of a princess.


She knew how much of a bitter princess she'd become. She knew how corrupted she could be...

She stared into the reflection of her burgundy eyes. A feeling of anger rose over her. She stared at the reflection in such ways she felt the want to shatter the mirror. She gritted her teeth, clenching her fist. Alongside with the breakout, the dark circles and her paleness, her self esteem died alongside her hideous reflection, and she screamed at it's adversity.

“Why do you propose such madness over an entire country?” she cried out with all of her fury and anger, her own vice. She hated the intensity of her eyes, of her impish features. “Why must the princess of Netheron be so hated? So... unkind?”

“A princess is not hated, but loved,” came a response.

She whipped her head around to face Esmeralda, her servant. She became silent and unsteady for only a moment, fiddling with her bustle.

“Esmeralda... why must you ease drop on me?” Estelle asked, recollecting herself.

Esmeralda paused for but a moment, a rather simple smile placed upon her face.

“I fear you have gone crazy, your majesty. A princess never yells at herself in a mirror,” Esmeralda replied with a monotone expression, one of slight worry. She dressed herself in a servant's gown and proposed to keep her hair back in a bonnet.

Estelle took a while to reply, fiddling with her wig. Esmeralda helped her with the  final touches of her outfit, grabbing her jacket for her to slip on.

"Oh dear, you're forgetting everything, are you not?" Esmeralda asked her. "A princess never forgets her jacket..." She leaned in closer to see her acne. "My princess, you are a mess!"

Estelle smiled a grimace.

"Indeed I am, Esmeralda... but do you not understand why I have slept so vaguely?" The princess asked.

The servant croaked.

"My dear princess, must you really be so hurt? You know, sometimes it's better to be hurt and be bruised, it is what makes for a strong princess after all." Esmeralda gave a small smile for this fact, but she looked almost sly. "You are too sensitive to rule alone, you know, my gracious princess..."

"I am a coward to rule this way," Estelle told her. She bit her lip and turned around from the mirror to grab a brush. "With you doing my paperwork, and my planning... dear Esmeralda, if I do say so myself, you are as worthy of the crown as I am."

"Don't be ashamed, my princess. There's no shame in being a queen," Esmeralda replied with a glowing smile. She seemed to take pride in such words. She paused, watching the princess attempt to brush her hair. "Let me do that for you, gracious queen."

Estelle stopped her from handling the brush, shoving her aside.

“Esmeralda, do you not understand why I do not sleep?” Estelle asked her again. She combed each lock of her wig, and with each lock, she stared deeper into her own eyes. “Do you not understand my own fears and own becoming of the nature which exists in me? Of the love that ceases to exist?”

Esmeralda shifted her attention to the mirror and turned to face her, with a shaking head.

“Your majesty, please. I understand you are stressed, relax yourself,” Esmeralda told her. But Estelle shook her head violently, setting the brush on the table to stare into her servant's eyes.

“I cannot sleep, Esmeralda. You know this. You understand my tears, do you not?”

“I cannot understand the life of a princess, Ma'am. Your fears shall not overcome your wishes.”

Estelle turned away slightly, biting her lip with aggravation. Leaning against the bathroom wall, she crossed her arms.

“Tell me this then. Why am I a princess?” She asked her.

“Because you are loved by many.”

“Because I am loved by none.”

A silence filled the room for only a second, Estelle drilling her glare into her servant's eyes. She refused to truly let up from praising her, and it strangely irritated her.

"I will never be loved again, Esmeralda. Tell me why you still cherish my seating. Why do you still support me after these years of torment, betrayal... of all of this misery?”

Esmeralda paused for a moment, lightly fixing her bonnet. She then smiled broadly, a rather large grin.

“Because a princess such as yourself, is powerful enough to conquer an empire,” Esmeralda said earnestly. “And that princess is caring, compassionate and kind to her servants."

Estelle pondered for a moment about these thoughts. Of course Esmeralda would only try to please her, such was the way of the twenty year old servant.

“Esmeralda, I ask that you fetch me some tea.” She asked. “We will discuss this later.”

“Certainly, your majesty.” Esmeralda replied. “I do not call you 'your majesty' for no reason.”

As Esmeralda left the room, Estelle turned to her reflection in the mirror.

An cold, ruthless ruler stared back at her.
:iconnetheron-chronicles:

My early Christmas present for you guys~ I'll try to get my traditional picture done in time as well.... :D

This is a redo of the very first story I posted, notably called "Tea Time" It was a short drabble, but it was written poorly, and I felt I needed to redo it. ^^;

I managed to get my computer under control... /crosses fingers It did quite a few disk scans. :XD: It also blue screened for some odd reason, it was my first blue screen for this computer alone. (It's only 1 year old and I've had nothing but problems with it... ;n; ) My last computer had several blue screens... ahh the love of technology :')

I've been afraid to turn it off... because of problems with the video card. Sometimes it doesn't like to turn on the monitor. ;A; I don't know why...

I'm hoping one of these days, I can get rid of this blue-screening contraption. Replace it with a very high tech laptop. :XD:
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:iconscarletwhite:
scarletwhite Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2017
I see a connection of the rain machine and drusila from the story I read first and what is said here, I thought the rain machine would bring progress to everyone, specially for the less fortunate.

Estelle's deep hatred towards herself shows shes more sensitive that most royalty I believe, and she got a sore place in life.

I like the paralles between her acne and other body flaws to a stressed, flawled character.

Anyway harder to read as she is so tormented but very well narrated regardless. Good job!!!
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:iconvivyi:
Vivyi Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Aaaaa yes. A little backstory here from the original first book: Estelle has been misusing the rain machine as a result of a curse that was placed under her, which this story hints at as a whole, her struggles with said curse. c:

She's definitely far more sensitive than most royalty are assumed to be. She once was just as haughty as they were - but as a result of circumstance, lost herself by the impending ills of the people around her. 

Thank you! c: I'm glad you do. 

Ahhh yes. Sometimes my books handle darker subjects such as self-hatred, and depression, but the experience is not out of vain, and there is always hope for the character in the end. :D Thank you!!
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:iconobelis:
Obelis Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
I guess Esmeralda was trying to put the romanticized version of a princess into Estelle's head to make her comfortable with her position. :nod: It wasn't useful for Esmeralda that things would change. Yet Estelle can't be fooled anymore.

It is interesting to see how she watches her looks. How simple Acne means so much more: that princess isn't a perfect doll loved by anyone, that hatred is causing her life to go down. Simple details in a person's look tell the story!

Estelle is being critical of herself. Strict. :nod: This is actually a good quality to a queen, but as a person, this must cause her more suffering than needed.
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:iconvivyi:
Vivyi Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Indeed :nod: Once you finally break free from the spell, suddenly now you're a victim of circumstance, and you must find a way out of such conflict, or risk losing who you are meant to be.

Agreed! Looks can sometimes have so much impact on who you really are as a person. That's why Estelle sees herself as imperfect - and not the perfect doll that people assume she is.

Strict she is, and it indeed costs her more suffering than she desires. That's why she hates her role, is because it's just too much for her to take.
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:iconlightarcindumati:
LightArcIndumati Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
:cries:
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:iconvivyi:
Vivyi Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
In my point of view, Estelle's story is always heartwrenching to me. She has the most traumatic feelings. </3

What did you like about this story? (Just curious!)
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:iconlightarcindumati:
LightArcIndumati Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
It's quite sad...I feel sympathic for her and her desire to be loved, and that she had to go through some stuff that she obtained that isn't her fault, in spite of her weather machine and what it does.
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:iconvivyi:
Vivyi Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Well, she starts out as the villain... but sympathetic is what I'm going for none the less. :nod: Estelle never deserved all the hate she gets.
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:iconlightarcindumati:
LightArcIndumati Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Very nice, very nice indeed.
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:iconvivyi:
Vivyi Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you! <3
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:iconlightarcindumati:
LightArcIndumati Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
No problem, Miss Vivi.
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