Often Kalasin would look out from her window, wishing she could be a butterfly so she could fly far, far away. She was no visitor to her foreign world but an intruder. Any talent she had had to be put on the shelf. Not meant for diplomacy, she couldn't stand the nobles at court. Noblewomen at court looked at her enviously and she wished that she could tell them how mistaken they were, how little freedom there was in being queen. Long ago, she had spirit in her. Now she was as broken as a discarded toy, her wings clipped.
This is in drabble so I'm not sure how good it is. There was a lot more to express but I decided to challenge myself by sticking to a hundred words. I hoped you guys like it anyway and please review.
