Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I don't own FF8 or any of the characters.
"Princess Rinoa. His Highness wishes to speak with you." The maid curtseyed politely as she delivered the message.
"Where is he?"
"The throne room, my lady."
"That will be all. Thank you." As the maid left, Rinoa got up off her bed, her gown trailing along the floor behind her.
"This had better not be another one of those marriage talks. I'm sick of them."
"Ah, Rinoa. I see you got the message."
"Yes father," she replied in an attempt to sound enthusiastic.
"There will be a guest at the feast tonight. Prince Almasy from Deling. I would like you to meet him."
"Very well, father. May I go now?"
"Hmph. As you wish. But make sure you're at your best tonight. And don't be late.
"Not another feast. There's a feast every week. I hate them." Rinoa cursed as she checked her reflection in the mirror. One last adjustment of her hair, and she was ready to go. She waited patiently at the top of the staircase in the throne room.
"Princess Rinoa Heartilly of Timber," the announcer said to a round of applause from all the guests. She smiled her best fake smile as she descended towards the other guests, taking the seat to the right of her father.
"He's up next," her father told her abruptly. Rinoa looked towards the top of the stairs where a man was standing waiting to be announced as a guest.
"Prince Seifer Almasy." The first thing Rinoa noticed was the scar that ran between his eyes, giving him a distinctive appearance.
"He's not bad looking," she thought. "Not good looking either." To her surprise, Seifer sat down in the seat next to her.
"My lady," he said politely, taking her hand and kissing it. The look in his eyes frightened Rinoa. It was the look of a hunter. A hunter who had found his prey and was closing in for the kill.
"Let the feast begin," her father announced, at which point everyone began to eat, including Seifer.
"Disgusting," thought Rinoa. "He eats like a pig."
"You need a man with a good appetite," her father whispered, seeing the look of disdain on her face. "How is your father Seifer?"
"Good," he muttered, not swallowing his food before speaking. "Obviously. I run things now. He's only the King in name alone. I'm far more important."
"This is going to be a very long night," thought Rinoa.
When the feast had ended, much to the relief of Rinoa, her father announced that the dancing would begin.
"I'm safe. Seifer's had too much to drink. He can't want to dance. Besides, that would mean thinking about someone other than himself."
"Why don't you ask my daughter to dance with you?" the king asked Seifer, much to Rinoa's dismay.
"What a good idea. Thanks," he replied drunkenly, slapping him on the back.
"I apologise. I feel a little faint. If I may retire to my room?" Not waiting for a reply, Rinoa fled the throne room to the safety of her own room.
"Rinoa. What did you think you were doing last night?"
"I'm sorry father. I felt ill."
"You're lying. I know you are."
"Father, I wouldn't lie to you," she protested. He slapped her across the face.
"You are lying. You know that Prince Seifer would be perfect to marry. You just want to ruin everything for me."
"That's not true. I just don't love him."
"Love? Love?" He began to laugh. You're a princess. You will marry a prince. Love has nothing to do with anything."
"But father."
"Lucky for you that Prince Seifer has offered you a marriage proposal."
"What?"
"Naturally, I told him that you would accept."
"But father."
"YOU WILL ACCEPT." He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Rinoa collapsed onto her bed, burying her head in the pillow, crying softly.
Rinoa stared at the picture she kept on her windowsill.
"Forgive me mother, but I can't stay here. Father keeps telling me that you would have wanted me to marry some rich prince, but I can't believe that you'd want me to live my life with someone I couldn't love." She threw the picture into her bag and fastened it, before putting on a cloak, pulling it down over her face so that she couldn't be recognised.
She turned around and took one last look at the palace, her home, the place where she had grown up. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she realised that she would never return.
Disclaimer: I don't own FF8 or any of the characters.
"Princess Rinoa. His Highness wishes to speak with you." The maid curtseyed politely as she delivered the message.
"Where is he?"
"The throne room, my lady."
"That will be all. Thank you." As the maid left, Rinoa got up off her bed, her gown trailing along the floor behind her.
"This had better not be another one of those marriage talks. I'm sick of them."
"Ah, Rinoa. I see you got the message."
"Yes father," she replied in an attempt to sound enthusiastic.
"There will be a guest at the feast tonight. Prince Almasy from Deling. I would like you to meet him."
"Very well, father. May I go now?"
"Hmph. As you wish. But make sure you're at your best tonight. And don't be late.
"Not another feast. There's a feast every week. I hate them." Rinoa cursed as she checked her reflection in the mirror. One last adjustment of her hair, and she was ready to go. She waited patiently at the top of the staircase in the throne room.
"Princess Rinoa Heartilly of Timber," the announcer said to a round of applause from all the guests. She smiled her best fake smile as she descended towards the other guests, taking the seat to the right of her father.
"He's up next," her father told her abruptly. Rinoa looked towards the top of the stairs where a man was standing waiting to be announced as a guest.
"Prince Seifer Almasy." The first thing Rinoa noticed was the scar that ran between his eyes, giving him a distinctive appearance.
"He's not bad looking," she thought. "Not good looking either." To her surprise, Seifer sat down in the seat next to her.
"My lady," he said politely, taking her hand and kissing it. The look in his eyes frightened Rinoa. It was the look of a hunter. A hunter who had found his prey and was closing in for the kill.
"Let the feast begin," her father announced, at which point everyone began to eat, including Seifer.
"Disgusting," thought Rinoa. "He eats like a pig."
"You need a man with a good appetite," her father whispered, seeing the look of disdain on her face. "How is your father Seifer?"
"Good," he muttered, not swallowing his food before speaking. "Obviously. I run things now. He's only the King in name alone. I'm far more important."
"This is going to be a very long night," thought Rinoa.
When the feast had ended, much to the relief of Rinoa, her father announced that the dancing would begin.
"I'm safe. Seifer's had too much to drink. He can't want to dance. Besides, that would mean thinking about someone other than himself."
"Why don't you ask my daughter to dance with you?" the king asked Seifer, much to Rinoa's dismay.
"What a good idea. Thanks," he replied drunkenly, slapping him on the back.
"I apologise. I feel a little faint. If I may retire to my room?" Not waiting for a reply, Rinoa fled the throne room to the safety of her own room.
"Rinoa. What did you think you were doing last night?"
"I'm sorry father. I felt ill."
"You're lying. I know you are."
"Father, I wouldn't lie to you," she protested. He slapped her across the face.
"You are lying. You know that Prince Seifer would be perfect to marry. You just want to ruin everything for me."
"That's not true. I just don't love him."
"Love? Love?" He began to laugh. You're a princess. You will marry a prince. Love has nothing to do with anything."
"But father."
"Lucky for you that Prince Seifer has offered you a marriage proposal."
"What?"
"Naturally, I told him that you would accept."
"But father."
"YOU WILL ACCEPT." He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Rinoa collapsed onto her bed, burying her head in the pillow, crying softly.
Rinoa stared at the picture she kept on her windowsill.
"Forgive me mother, but I can't stay here. Father keeps telling me that you would have wanted me to marry some rich prince, but I can't believe that you'd want me to live my life with someone I couldn't love." She threw the picture into her bag and fastened it, before putting on a cloak, pulling it down over her face so that she couldn't be recognised.
She turned around and took one last look at the palace, her home, the place where she had grown up. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she realised that she would never return.