Here is Chapter 3! Again, I do not own PoK or Goong/Princess Hours
Chapter 3: Late Night Thoughts
I sit by my window staring longingly at the sea. I may not live in the biggest of homes, but there is no doubt I have one of the best views of the ocean. My mind has been spinning ever since the meeting with the elders. Once I signed the papers, all of the elders, my dad, and the rude boy, Lanny stood up and bowed graciously at me. One of the elders spoke and said our next meeting would be in three days. I nodded angrily as they all left our house.
Once all they left, my dad and I got wrapped into a shouting match. Actually, it was only a shouting match on my end. My dad remained calm, while I screamed every angered feeling I felt in my body. It went on for about an hour before I realized I was running an endless course. This conversation would lead to nowhere. The more I shouted, the deeper the realization set in that I had no choice but to accept my new fate. I excused myself to my room, telling my dad I needed to be alone. Thankfully, I still had that type of freedom to do so.
It has been over twenty-four hours since the palace officials came to our home. I spent a majority of my time staring out my window. I was bound by contract to give my life up. I quietly left my room a few times, but avoided my father. He attempted to talk to me, but I just gave him a cold, emotionless stare. He took it as his cue to leave me alone.
I hear a faint knock on my door. My father has been doing this every few hours or so to make sure I am still in the house. I decide to answer the door and walk lazily to meet my father who is holding a plate of food.
"I brought you some dinner." My dad says. I grab the bowl and give him a quick nod.
"Thanks." I reply quietly.
It is a few moments before my dad starts to speak again. "Mikayla, how are you feeling?"
"I'm not as angry as before, but I'm still mad." I shrug my shoulders. "How do you expect me to feel better?"
"Baby girl, I want you to know I would have accepted whatever decision you made." My dad's voice is sincere.
"Dad, that's easy to say now." I retort. I do not mean to sound agitated, but who could blame me? My dad is at a loss for words. I see his mouth open to speak, but nothing comes out.
"Dad, I made the best decision for the both of us. Even if I had chosen to forgo the marriage, I would have never forgiven myself to see you imprisoned." I try my best to ease the tension. I know I am mad, but I know I should not take my anger out on my father.
"I am sorry that this had to happen this way, Mikayla. I want nothing but the best for you and even if this is happening, don't let it stop you from living the life you want to live. Please forgive me." My dad gives me hug.
I return his embrace through gritted teeth. I have never seen my dad in this light. My dad, the mighty Mason, was the toughest, strongest man I knew and here he was in front of me, on the verge of tears, begging his young daughter for forgiveness. It took every ounce of me to not break down myself.
"I'll be okay. I am starting to accept this. It's just happening so fast." I admit. My dad lets me go from his arms.
"I know, baby girl and I am going to be with you through every step of the way. We will find a way to make this better for the both of us." He reassures.
I nod my head. "Thanks dad. If it's ok, I'd like to just take the rest of the night to myself."
"Of course. Good night, Mikayla." My dad flashes a quick smile and closes the door.
I eat my food in quickly. It is the first meal I have eaten in a long time. Once I finish, I make my way toward my bed and sit thinking about the events of yesterday. I replay the elder's words in my head stating that I will be married to the king of Kinkow.
I glance over at my nightstand and locate a framed picture of my parents and I. I grasp the framed portrait and analyze its every detail. It is me, my father, and my mother happily posed at the beach. My mother passed away when I was only a year old. Although I do not remember her much, I love her just as much as my father. I examine the old photo and smile. My parents look so happy. Although I am merely a newborn in the photo, I know I am happy too. It is almost scary how similar I look to my mother, but I know I can never be as beautiful as her. I let out a loud sigh. I only wish I could be filled with joy like my parents –being madly in love with one another and in love with their lives. I now have to sacrifice that dream without so much as a choice.
I place the portrait back in its place and check the time. 12:04 AM. I make myself comfortable on my bed and try to go to sleep. I close my eyes, but now I am imagining King Brady and I walking down the aisle. I shake the thoughts from my mind as I toss and turn uncomfortably.
My body is still. I lay flat on my back. My eyes are shut. I am unable to go to sleep. I turn to my side and read the red numbers on the clock. 1:00 AM. I clench my fists in frustration. The harder I try to fall asleep, the more awake I become. I sit up straight from my bed and push the covers furiously. I impulsively grab a light sweater and throw it on over my pajamas. I slip on my sandals and grab my machete from the desk. I tiptoe out of my room and out of my house, making sure I do not wake my dad.
I tap on the windowpane lightly, audible but quiet enough to keep from disturbing the surrounding neighbors. I look behind my shoulder making sure no one is in sight. I knock a little louder on the first story window as I grow more impatient.
"Tristan!" I say in a hushed voice tapping on the window again. I check my peripherals again, hoping no one would spot me.
A dim light shines and I see a large figure move toward the window. Tristan gazes through the glass and rubs his eyes; probably to make sure this was not a dream. He opens the window in one motion.
"Mikayla? What are you doing here?" He asks sleepily.
"Can I come in?" I whisper. I gesture my hands to hurry, fearing someone would catch me. It is definitely not a scene to see a young woman out this late sneaking around in a boy's room, especially when the woman is technically engaged.
"Come in, come in." Tristan whispers. I quickly crouch through the opening and enter Tristan's room. I dust myself off before meeting eyes with my friend. I feel heat rush to my face when I notice he stands shirtless. The expression on my face seems to have tipped him off that his muscular torso is in plain site.
"Oh I'm sorry." He fumbles his way to his desk chair where a white T-shirt hangs. I avert my eyes as he quickly slips on his shirt. I shake the image of his half-naked, well-defined body out of my head.
"I didn't know you slept in the nude." I poke fun at my friend and take a seat at the edge of his bed.
"For your information, I was wearing pants. Besides, this conversation shouldn't be about me. You're the crazy one, knocking at my window this late at night and scaring the shit out of me." Tristan retorts. He takes a seat on his desk chair and rubs his eyes again.
"Touché." I reply.
Usually when I knock on Tristan's window, it is in the daytime and I am asking him to leave his house so we could go train. Now here I am at 1:30 in the morning sitting on his bed after begging to come inside. I am not sure what prompted to make this sudden trip to his house, but I needed to tell someone of my situation. I am fairly certain that this ordeal was not supposed to be a secret. A royal engagement is definitely grounds for the entire island to know eventually.
"So are you going to tell why you woke me up in the middle of the night to invite yourself into my room? Or better yet, where you were all day? You don't skip out your Sunday regime nor do you ignore my texts." He holds up his phone and looks at me with a suspicious look.
"It's complicated." I say nervously. I realize that I had not thought this situation through. I knew I wanted to tell Tristan about everything that had happened, but where would I start?
Hey Tristan, I'm getting married. Oh, and it's to the king of Kinkow. Have a good night. If only it were that simple to say.
Tristan walks toward his bed and plops down on the opposite side. He lies comfortably with his hands behind his bed and his legs stretched out.
"Well, if it's a long story, I might as well get comfortable." Tristan says.
I take a deep breath. He is not going to believe a word I say.
"Okay. You're going to think this is absolute fantasy, but I'm going to remind you this is real." I warn him with a serious glance.
"On Saturday, palace officials and the island elders came to my house." I begin.
Tristan sits up quickly. "Whoa. Is this about royal guard tryouts?" He sounds enthusiastic and the most awake he has been since I arrived at his window.
I shake my head. "I wish. These people were here for something more serious. I guess there's no way around explaining this. So here it goes," I take a short pause to breath. "I'm being forced into an arranged marriage with the king."
Tristan's blue eyes narrow in confusion. He scratches his golden blonde hair trying to make sense of my words. At least, that is what he looks like he is doing.
"Married? But, you're like eighteen! You go to school. You want to be a royal guard. You can't be the next queen of Kinkow. You're just joking around." He says. His voice sounds slightly peeved. Who could blame him? I shake my head at his statement.
"You think I would sneak into your room in the early hours of the morning to tell you a joke?" I try to make him understand that I am dead serious. "It's true, Tris. My grandfather signed a decree with the king back then to have the Makoolas marry into the royal family. It's… the law."
"And the palace went along with a deal that old?" Tristan shook his head. "How could they make you do this?"
"King Brady is facing ejection from the throne. After angering some of the islanders, they have found a legitimate reason to overthrow him. Turns out, old Kinkowan law states a king must be wed in order to claim the throne. So the palace decides the best solution is for him to get married. And here I am, their escape plan." I explain to my disbelieving friend. Tristan still looks unconvinced.
"But it's the twenty-first century. How can they follow a law that was written a hundred years ago? Can't they just overrule it or something?" He argues.
"They could and face an overturn of the government. The opposition groups have the upper hand in this situation." I say quietly. I merely repeat the reasoning my father said to me when I argued with him earlier.
Tristan gets up from his side of the bed and begins to pace. He throws in hands up furiously. "So the king screws up and you have to save him from losing his job? Does the monarchy not care about your side of things? Are they really bound by the law? Or are they afraid they'll lose their financial security? And why…"
"Tristan, calm down," I interrupt him, bringing my index finger to my mouth. I gesture for him to lower his voice, fearing he would wake his family in the nearby rooms. "It's not even that. They threatened to imprison my dad if I refused the engagement."
"They're blackmailing your family? Those assholes!" He curses. I nod my head in agreement, but continue to remain poised. I have lashed out enough times already.
Tristan walks toward my side of his bed and takes a seat a few feet away from me. I can see the anger in his eyes.
"How… how do you feel about all of this? You seem to be taking it well." He expresses.
"Believe me, I was much more angrier than you. It took me almost a day to calm myself down. I don't feel any better. Part of the time, I still think I'm dreaming. The other part of me doesn't even know what to feel. The worst part is, is that I am starting to accept it. It's like I'm giving up." I disclose to him. I should feel pathetic for not putting up a fight. Is there really no other option for me or am I not trying hard enough?
"So you're okay with marrying a guy you don't even know? I can't believe you would ever agree to this." Tristan questions me heatedly. I feel myself tense up. I know he is challenging me and I grow agitated with his criticisms.
"It's not like that! I've already explained to you what's happening with my situation." I clenched my jaw with each word spoken. "You know, I came here to get support from my best friend, not to get lectured at on my poor decision making skills. If that's all you have to say, I'll be leaving now."
I get up abruptly when Tristan grabs my wrist. He pulls me back gently so I face him. I stop in my tracks and fold my arms. I throw a scowled look in his direction. He replies with an apologetic expression.
"I'm sorry, Mickey. I never meant to make you feel bad. It's just… I am so heated about this." He speaks quietly as he pulls me back to down to sit back on his bed. I let out a sigh and I try to remind myself to calm down.
"It's fine." I tell him. I just want to end this discussion.
I feel Tristan put his arm around me and I instinctively rest my head on his shoulder. I sit for a few moments, before backing away. I feel slightly awkward about being so close to my friend and let out a nervous laugh to break the silence. Luckily he chuckles to before speaking.
"So, your grandpa arranged a secret marriage between you and the king. Sounded like it was a good idea at the time." Tristan mentions.
"Oh how things have changed," I say sarcastically. "You know, I was mad at my dad for letting this happen, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that this is all King Brady's fault. I mean his horrible performance led the islanders to threaten him with impeachment. Now I am the only solution to his bad job of ruling."
"It sucks that you have no way out of it." He states. I nod my head at his statement.
"I mean the opposition groups will still find a way to overthrow the king even after he is married. Is the monarchy that stupid to believe a marriage will shut the islanders up?" I throw my hands up in anguish.
"You're right, Mickey." He says as he takes a yawn. I can tell he is growing sleepier by the minute and I feel slightly guilty for keeping him up while I vent. I check the wall clock and cringe at how early in the morning it is. I start to stand up and motion for Tristan to get to bed.
"Thanks again for listening to me, Tristan. It means a lot. I should get back now." I say.
"Wait! It's late, Mikayla. I don't want you going back at this hour. You could stay here… I mean you can sleep in my bed and I'll take the floor." He says rubbing the back of his neck. He stands up and blocks my way toward the window. I raise an eyebrow at him.
"Tris, I've got a machete and years of combat training under my belt. I think I can handle a stroll in the dark. I don't think I could be a royal guard if I couldn't handle that. Besides, I don't want to worry my dad." I decline politely. He lets out a small laugh and nods.
"Of course, just thought you might be tired and yeah…" He replies sheepishly.
"I'll be okay. See ya, Tristan. Thanks again." I say goodbye with a quick wave and open his window to climb out. I turn in his direction as he waves farewell to me.
I walk briskly through my regular path back home. It is a path near the beach where I know palace guards do not frequent. Had I been caught walking this late in a heavily guarded area, I would have been taken in for questioning. Patrol at this hour is not as strict since the Tarantula People have been dormant. Kinkow, for the most part, is a safe island, but it is home to a mysterious Dark Side, dangerous creatures, and an active volcano. All of these things do not particularly scare me, which is why I would be perfect to be a royal guard… Now I have to focus on being someone's wife and a queen.
I shake away these uncomfortable thoughts as I jog lightly on the path. The ocean waves are calming and make me feel more ease. I make it to the door of my house and make sure to open it as quietly as possible. My heart is racing more than it did during my walk back from Tristan's house. The only thing more fearful than being caught by a palace guard or a Tarantula Person is my father. I grip the doorknob carefully and creep into my living room. I shut the door slowly and tiptoe back to my room. Once I slip into my bedroom, I let out a sigh of relief. I cannot believe I had successfully snuck out of the Makoola house undetected.
The clock now reads 3:00 AM. I had not realized I had been out so long. Luckily my mind is not worrying about the arranged marriage. I wonder about my meeting with Tristan. I was expecting a typical meeting with my friend but now I feel slightly awkward about what happened.
He had asked if I wanted to stay over. Normally I would have thought there was no harm in his question, but his hand on my shoulder, his anger at me for choosing to marry the king… No. There was no way Tristan likes me. Tristan and I could never be a couple. It is an unwritten rule. No questions asked. And yet, now my messed up brain is making me think otherwise. Should I have said, "yes" to his invitation?
Tristan and I are strictly friends. We are best friends. We do not talk about crossing that line into something more. For most of our adolescence, Tristan and I were pegged to become a couple. According to Candace, a lot of people think we are dating, but I continually quash that rumor by never showing any affection.
Then I wonder if maybe I was the only one who saw us as "just friends". Does Tristan like me? I cannot stop thinking of the possibility. Had I ruined what could have been with him by agreeing to marry someone I did not know? And then I realize, that I do not like Tristan that way. Maybe I am just finding another reason to opt out of this engagement.
My eyelids grow heavy, but my thoughts keep stirring. Arranged marriage. The monarchy. Tristan. My future.
Hm, I'm sensing Tristan might be a little more concerned about the marriage than he should be? Stay tuned for the next chapter! I think Mikayla and King Brady will finally meet face to face!
Thank you again for reading!