He did it again. When will this goddamn pressure stop? Tomorrow is my 19th birthday, and yet again, he has prepared another boring Gala with the hopes that I will finally choose a proper "wife." Does he honestly not understand that there is far more to life than my ability to procreate? Or does he merely not give a shit about my happiness in light of his own? Does he truly not care that my ambitions lie far from his naïve notions of my becoming his successor?

Day in and day out all I do is whatever is asked of me. Meaningless lessons on propriety and political ethics. The do and do nots of royal society. Whenever I feel that I may finally steal a moment's solace, it is quickly ripped away via frustrating lectures on how to be a proper ruling lord. I just wish for once…

Actually, what does it matter what I wish. Wishes are naught when you're what I have been forced to become.

Tomorrow is my 19th birthday and I am so utterly exhausted. I want to run away. I want to run as fast and as hard as I am physically able to do so, back to that place from my childhood. A small creek blanketed in moonlight as the cold chill calms my heated mind. The scent of damp twigs and the sound of rushing water bring me comfort on even my loneliest of days. Even though it was so very long ago, I can still recall it with pristine clarity. There was even that girl. That small girl who wept for a mother, a mother to…

Well, I suppose in that regard I am rather lucky. I should be more thankful for my own mother. If I was cursed with a mother like that little girl's, in addition to my dastardly father, I do not know if I'd be here, writing this.

In my heart, in the deepest blackest corners, I know that they mean well. Nevertheless, I wish that they would take a step back and recognise that I cannot be who they want me to be. I do not want to be the goddamned king. I crave freedom. Freedom to be far from these pretentious traditions and out-dated expectations. All I want is to learn what it means to love someone for who they are, not what seed they have spawned from. To know what the truest, purest exhibition of undying affection feels like, and to share that with someone whom I can have a normal existence with. Not an empty-minded girl who shudders at the mere thought of thinking for herself. Oh, the irony therein. But of course, whenever I try in earnest to speak to father about these things, I am shunned and ignored. My beliefs waved off as the naïve whims of a child, which I am no longer.

So many years spent dancing to their tunes. The time has arrived that I must make a decision for myself. One that shall be for my own sanity, my own desires. No longer can I allow myself to be pushed into these unwanted ideals. No longer can I play puppet prince to an arrogant king. If they cannot listen to my words, then I will make them see with my actions. If a prince is truly what they want, then I will play the damned part of Prince. I know that in the end, I will win. I must win.

-K