1 Francine Elizabeth Maxwell

<<Francine>>

"Princess Francine Elizabeth Maxwell, you are to present yourself before the King at the moment."

"I shall be there in a minute," I dismissed the royal maiden before turning my attention to my reflection in front of me.

"What does the father want from you, princess beautiful?" Sam spoke, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I shrugged. "I do not have any idea, brother."

I adjusted my royal purple qipao dress in front of the mirror, my heart racing a thousand miles per minute. What did father want from me? I had no clue. My brother, on the other hand, may have had some ideas.

"Maybe he needs us to swap places. I shall be King while you be my personal assistant."

I scoffed. Me? His personal assistant?

"You are too delusional, brother. It shall never happen."

He raised an eyebrow. "Delusional? Ha! You are unbelievable, Liz."

"'Tis the truth." I smiled.

He crossed his arms, his demeanor becoming serious. "What does he want, really?"

I turned, facing him. "As I said, I have no clue."

"You should leave now," He paused, giving me a once-over. "You look surprisingly stunning, today. New makeup?"

I playfully shoved his arm. "Oh god, no! I look like I do every day."

"No, princess beautiful. You do not. There is something different about you and I shall figure it out." He declared, pointing a finger to the sky.

I almost walked out of the door before turning to meet his ocean-blue eyes again.

"Keep trying."

___

"You wanted to see me, father?"

He stood up from his throne, smiling almost too genuinely as he strolled towards me at the end of the throne room. Father never really smiled- as in, genuinely smiled. His perfect smiles were usually hollow. However, today, it was different. His grin was genuine as if he was truly happy to tell me what was going on in his mind.

"Ah, daughter! 'Tis so incredible to see how fine of a woman you have turned into." He exclaimed, embracing me into a bone-crushing hug.

He continued his voice a soft whisper. "I cannot believe I will never see you again."

What was he talking about?

Where was he sending me?

"What are you talking about, father?" I broke the contact and stared at him. A mix of sadness and joy swirled inside his deep- grey orbs.

He sighed. "I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first, daughter?"

Obviously, the good.

"The good news."

He smiled. "You shall be coronated Queen next year, on the day of your twenty-first birthday."

I grinned. "That's great news, father! I am so delighted."

I started dancing in the throne room, twirling and making up new dance moves as I danced. The moment I reached the door, my father's voice hit my eardrums.

"I am not finished, yet." He uttered, breaking my victory dance.

I stopped abruptly. My back was facing him. I hadn't dared to turn around as I dreaded the minute he would utter the bad news. My heart pounded against my chest, fear swirling in the pit of the stomach. I detested the feeling of not having a single clue regarding the bad news.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"Father, the wait is killing me! Please, have mercy on my poor heart. It cannot take the pain, any more."

"You are to be engaged to the Prince of Scotland on the day of your coronation."