The King's Mistress
Prologue
~8~
(Note: Only the prologue is written in a first person point of view)
I sit before the setting sun as I stare listlessly into the greenery that stretches far beyond the eye can see. The papers before me ruffle gently in tune with the breeze and I smile, neither in happiness nor in sadness. And then I begin to write.
I have avoided recounting my life onto paper for a long time now, but alas I feel my duty has caught up with me. Or maybe it is my paranoia that has gripped me. Perhaps you are now reading my memoir with a sense of distaste. I do not blame you, for the negative connotations that the word Mistress entails is far-reaching. But I am now Queen, a beloved one at that and the sole owner of my King's heart. The events of my young life, as I was fortunate enough, was portrayed impartially to my people, however, though I am now the most powerful woman, the fear of my story being misconstrued to my younger generations does not discriminate me. Thus, I shall tell you my tale without biasness or beautification. I shall disclose to you of how I lived, survived, of how I came to power.
If you assumed I was born into a prestigious family of power and wealth, then you have assumed correctly. My father was a third generation advisor having served my Lord's predecessor, and I was the youngest of his three daughters. The youngest and also the resented. My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. I, in the eyes of my father and second sister, not only murdered the love of my father's life, but also deprived my father of any hope of conceiving a son. I symbolized a bad omen to my father, and was no more than a pebble in my middle sister's shoe. Senna is her name. Now as I look back in hindsight, I cannot help but speculate the notion that perhaps Senna had always saw me as a hindrance, and dare I wonder, a threat.
Senna was my King's first wife.
Never acknowledged by anyone but my eldest sister, my beautiful Hisana, I lived a commoner's life behind closed doors. I shall laugh at you, if for that, you pity me. I did not discern it then, but I am grateful for it now. Unlike my sisters, whose lives were predetermined to marry into royalty, I was excluded from this privilege. Thus I was free to roam the forests whenever I pleased, gain a wealth of knowledge from whatever I chose, and become my own person by my own right. My King whispers against the nape of my naked neck every night that he loves me for the very reason that I am my own person. It is in those moments, that all the pain and loneliness of being in a loveless family becomes no more than a passing memory.
It never ceases to make me smile when I think of the first moment I met my beloved. I frustrated him to no end. My King, you will come to learn, is a logical man, and when he could not decipher me, quantify me in a logical sequence as though I was no more than an object, I became annoying to him, but nonetheless, an enigma. But I am digressing. The events of our first meeting cannot, and should not be encapsulated so briefly. The events will unfold in time.
When my father almost forgot my very existence, and I was always only met with Senna's cold shoulders, I would still find the courage to smile, because my eldest sister more than made up for the lack of warmth from everyone else. But Hisana had poor health, so when she wasn't dedicating her time to me, she was with her doctor, whom I would later find out would become my brother in law.
When I did not have my sister by my side, I turned to my books, the endless tales that kept me from the cruelty of my own. And when I pleased, I would roam the streets just like my people. I could be gone for days on end, but not many would really take notice. Occasionally I wondered whether my father silently wished that I would disappear just like the wind. I do not blame him, nor do I resent him in the slightest. My father was never a cruel man to me, though I cannot say he played his role of a father. I always knew deep down he was trying to love me, but sometimes just the sight of me was too much for him. I do not blame him.
My second sister was never cruel to me as well, but she also never acknowledged me. Perhaps she resented me for robbing her of a mother, but the intensity of her coldness spoke of a deeper underlying reason, one that came to light when I would turn 19. She, like my father, is someone I could never hate. In many ways, fate had dealt her a harsh hand. All her life, Senna only strived for power and love. Two things that were seemingly so close, yet so terrifyingly far beyond her reach. Perhaps it was the unrequited love that was her undoing. Perhaps in her eyes, it was another thing I had deprived her of. I too, would be driven to madness if I were her. I wonder endlessly how two sisters could lead such opposing lives.
You are probably surprised that there is no distinct villain like a normal story would have, surprised that there is no clear right or wrong. That is because this is no fairytale. Though it does not lack in love and passion, it is far from a fairytale. But I have never cared for those stories, for in my perception, it is those stories that had ultimately weaved an unattainable fantasy that Senna strived her whole life to reach. Fairytales were the beginning of Senna's downfall. And I was the catalyst.
The sun has set now, and I have grown tired. My love is beckoning me to bed, so I shall retire for the night. I will begin my memoir at the break of dawn, and relay to you in the best of my ability, the story that will go down in history. The tale of the King's mistress.
~8~