They mean to suffocate her. Of this much she is certain, and wants none of it – but like so much else, she has no say in the matter.
She was meant to be free, to be unburdened and graceful and able to live her life as she saw fit. And then her last relatives died and she was chosen to lead a broken nation into the light.
There were lessons in deportment, in policy, in management – none of which she finds enjoyable when all she wants is to sing and all of which make her want to leave; to run and run until no one dared chase her and she became a different person and she can do as she pleases with no admonishments or nagging or urging or commanding.
But one look is enough to remind her of her duty, and soon she is weighed down, trapped by their responsibilities and their obligations and their politics; she is needed, and so she sleepwalks through life, a shade, a shadow, tied down to her nation and their expectations. Stuck in an endless cycle of travel, discussion, rejection, apology. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Time stands still.
(And then he came, this boy with wild red eyes and anger and a purpose, who had seen and done and hurt too much to be considered a boy – and the world creaks on its rusted axles and turns.)
