AN: This is an idea that I have been sitting on for years and I finally decided to attempt to write it! This is just the prologue, to get a feel for how people like this story, if they think I should continue, all that. If y'all enjoy it and want me to continue, I won't be posting anything else until I've at least got the majority of the story written, so it'll be a long time. But once I start posting chapters the updates should be fairly frequent. So please, comment and/or follow if you would like me to complete this story!!


A beautiful woman was waiting for her. Up ahead, a short stretch away, standing beside a man bedecked in royal purple and gold embellishments. Up ahead, the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen, garbed in flowing white, adorned with opulent jewels, diamonds and red rubies. Dark haired with chestnut eyes lined in charcoal, and lips rouge red, she stood with the quaking of the flower petals all the way down to the stems clasped stiffly in her hands the only sign that fear raked through her.

This woman one year her junior and barely old enough to call herself 'woman.' Ahead she waited, trembling, barely containing the water from falling out of her eyes. Those who were blind thought them tears of joy. But she knew. The rage that simmered in her stomach was for the same reason. But they had no choice. Her jaw was rigid, teeth painfully clenched, as she grinds them, waiting for her entrance from the wings of the grand hall.

Her father bore a forced smile, lips sealed tightly, tension coursing through him and radiating off him, passing to her where their arms linked. The screams of their fight that had echoed through the throne chamber just an hour ago are still ringing in his ears. Her resentment of her parents boiled through her blood. She had fought them with all her might, lamenting over the events that she knew would inevitably take place. The futility of her angered shouts falling on deaf ears, along with the ultimate reality that she could not truly refuse, broke her back and cut her off at the knees.

There was no other solution to the situation her parents had created, and were she to attempt to escape it there was no accounting for the amount of blood that would stain her hands, indelible and fiercely visible to the eyes of all. Her lungs seized breath by force, choking on the air and swirling it like a noxious cloud in her chest. Her entrance was drawing nearer. All those before her had stepped out and made their way to their destination. She felt her father tug her arm, gentle, maybe almost apologetic. It did not stop her from seething. It did nothing but anger her more. He had sealed her fate and that of the beautiful woman, he had no right to display compunction now, not when he was all but dragging her into the most despicable thing she'd ever done.

No escape, no time left, and no further choices, Princess Emma stepped onto the rose colored carpet and proceeded down the aisle to join her wife to be at the altar that would bind them forever.