Chapter 20:

Princesses were prideful creatures by nature. It came with the territory. As did being private, since privacy is almost entirely lacking from a princess' life.

Boredom also accompanied royalty. Boredom at many things, including the rigorous monotony of palace life.

That is why Vilandra occasionally resented being a princess. In this scenario, the word occasionally must be stressed, because the majority of the time Vilandra relished in the power, luxury, and lifestyle her title granted her. She liked to be in control of everything, from the minor details to the grand spectrum of ideas, and thus being a princess suited her well.

But the part of Vilandra that longed for the peace and freedom afforded to those not of noble blood, was the part that created her icy exterior. She knew that if she wore her heart on her sleeve, she would surely be hurt, by having either her heart or her pride crushed by some undeserving suitor. So, Vilandra kept her true self closed in deep inside of her, waiting for someone who was worthy of knowing the real Vilandra. And as of yet, such a person had not come knocking. Thus, Vilandra was frigid and demanding to the majority of the people she interacted with, causing them to both fear and resent her. All because her fear of pain made her trap herself. It was a dangerous and disheartening game she played, but she played it well.

Today was just another day for Vilandra. She had all the same duties and responsibilities that she always had, only with a few extra things thrown in, as part of her preparation for the arrival of the visiting Fiary dignitaries. Currently she was holed up in her suite, awaiting the arrival of the seamstress, who was putting the finishing touches on the gown she was going to wear to welcoming gala.

She was standing in front of a mirror, absentmindedly regarding her appearance in it. Vilandra was not an ugly girl—quite the contrary to be frank. She had the beauty and grace that one naturally associated with royal. Her face showcased dark, chocolate colored eyes, full lips, and a delicate, yet strong, nose. Framing her face was long, golden hair that fell in gentle waves. With just one look at her, one could tell she was royal, it was echoed in the way she held herself. It emanated from her, like a silent signal. It was something she could never escape so long as she was still alive.

She heard her seamstress come in, but said nothing to the woman, whose presence was acknowledge with a wave of her hand. This behavior was not unusual. The seamstress simply held out the gown that was nearly complete. Vilandra took it from the woman and changed into it. It was a lovely gown. The color was a deep emerald green, with silver accents. She could tell just by looking at, that the embroidery must have taken a long time to complete, as it was surely done entirely by hand.

With the gown on, Vilandra resumed her position in front of the mirror. She studied herself, looking for something that she herself was unaware of. Something that indicated there was something more for her than just this; something she might never know.

"Milady, I must say, you look stunning! You'll be the most beautiful woman at the ball," gushed one of Vilandra's ladies in waiting. All Vilandra could do in response was smile weakly. She knew that being beautiful was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

"Do you like it, Princess?" asked the seamstress anxiously.

"Yes, it's lovely," Vilandra answered.

"Would you like me to change anything?"

"No, I think that it is fine how it is. Excellent work, as always," thanked the princess.

"Thank you, your highness, you are very kind," responded the seamstress curtseying.

"Now, since this is finished, I think I'd like to take a walk," said Vilandra, walking behind a screen to change. She emerged a few moments later and gave a commanding look at her ladies, "Alone."

The ladies, curtseyed and mumbled that they would do as she wished. Vilandra was just grateful to get away.

She emerged from her suite knowing that if her brother ever found out, she would be in trouble. She was not supposed to go wandering around alone, as something dangerous might happen to her.

Vilandra seriously doubted that anyone who was foolish enough to harm the Crown Princess of Antar would make it past the ever-present guards. If they did, then they deserved to find her.

She wandered aimlessly through the halls of the palace before finally deciding to venture into the gardens. The gardens were her favorite place; she could just sit out there and watch the stars, away from the prying eyes of the palace. It was a peaceful sanctuary.

Vilandra was walking the paths that crisscrossed the garden, lost deep in thought when she unceremoniously collided with an object that was both hard and soft at the same time. Both she and the object, fell back from each other, the object making a noise that sounded like "oof" as it fell to the ground.

From her position of sitting on the ground, Vilandra looked up to see what she had hit. The object was not an object at all, but rather a now disheveled looking young man. The young man was dressed in rather fine clothes, not as nice as some of the nobles, but fine enough to indicate a rather high status in the Antarian court. His hair was a light brown color and fell shaggily to just above his eyes, which were a stunning blue. She couldn't help but stare.

The young man started to get up, groaning as he did so, and came to stand next to her, extending his hand to help her up.

"I'm really sorry for that, I guess I wasn't paying that much attention to where I was going," he said, his voice hitting to an inner kindness and strength Vilandra knew must he must possess. She couldn't explain it, but there was something familiar about him.

"It's all right; I wasn't paying attention either," she answered smiling at him. It was her first real smile in a long time. "Excuse me, I can't help but ask this, but have we met before?" she asked.

He looked at her, and she saw something flash behind his eyes, and she knew that there was more to this stranger than she first thought. "No, I don't think we have," he answered. "I'm new to this court."

"Oh, then I must introduce myself. I'm Vilandra," she said, extending her hand.

He took it and brought it to his lips and gently kissed it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Vilandra. I'm Gaudior; I'm the Prince's newest advisor."

Vilandra blushed slightly at Gaudior's actions. 'So this is my brother's newest advisor?' she thought. 'I really must get to know him better.'

"Well, Gaudior, since you are Zan's newest advisor, than I am sure that we will be seeing much more of each other, but now, I must depart, there are preparations that need to be attended to," she said, not really wanting to leave, but knowing she'd neglected her duties long enough.

"I look forward to getting to know you better, milady. I shall let you go, I do not wish to take up any more of your time," he answered, stepping aside to let Vilandra pass him.

"Goodbye, Gaudior, it was nice running into you," she said as the made to leave.

"Farewell, Vilandra, and I must say the pleasure was all mine," he answered, a smile playing on his lips.

Vilandra left the gardens with more clarity and comfort then she had felt in a long time. Whoever this new man was, he intrigued her and she was determined to speak to him again. But she knew that now was not the time for pursuing personal things, but the time for duty and if there was one thing Vilandra could do better than anyone else, was her duty.

What's this? An update? I know, the shock of shocks. Can I say how sorry I am that I haven't updated in almost 6 whole months? The world has been crazy and the Roswell writer's block has sucked, but that is no excuse. I bring you this now and a promise that chapter 21 will be up no later than the 13th (I know, an empty promise until I follow through, but please, bear with me).

Please read, and review; I'd like to know if people are still reading this, because if no one is, I'm moving it to permanent retirement and it has to go live in the land of unfinished stories (I know that's a horrible fate).

This section is dedicated to whoever reads this, you don't know how much I appreciate it; you motivate me.

Until next time.

Gifted Empress

PS This section is brought to you by U2's album "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb", especially the song "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own". U2 is an awesome band that has been together and producing killer music longer than I have been alive. I don't own them either, I just appreciate them.