PRINCESS SIOFRA

(Elf Realm)

Siofra’s POV

“Siofra! Siofra!”

“Alma, up here!”

“What are you doing up there?”

“Reading books,” I replied before climbing down from the bookshelf to meet her.

I had been deeply enjoying my book before Alma came along to ruin the moment.

“Do you know how long I've been looking for you? You had Mother worried sick.”

“But I'm always here reading books.” I frowned in confusion. “Besides… why is everyone looking for me?”

“Wait a minute.” Alma paused, giving me a strange look.

“What?” I asked, unable to understand what she was trying to communicate with just her eyes.

“Don't tell me you forgot what today is.”

I stared at her blankly, confusion settling deeper onto my face.

“I'm sorry… but what is today?”

“Oh, dear stars.” She rubbed her forehead dramatically. “Have you forgotten you're meeting Eldarion of Baernarta today?”

“Oh my God.”

Panic hit me instantly.

“Mum is going to kill me!”

I spun around and immediately bolted toward my room to get dressed.

“Be careful, or you'll fall flat on your face!” Alma called after me.

“Thank you, Alma!” I shouted back sarcastically.

When I rushed into my room, I froze slightly when I realised it was empty.

Strange.

I had expected my mother to already be pacing around the room with disappointment and anger painted across her face.

I truly didn't know why I kept forgetting things that were supposedly important.

Though… perhaps a part of me simply didn't want to remember.

As much as I didn't want to get married, I knew I didn't have much of a choice.

I released a slow breath and hurried toward my wardrobe, searching for the gown that had been presented to me two nights ago for the dinner between my family and Eldarion’s.

“Siofra.”

I froze instantly.

My mother's voice sounded behind me.

What in the realms—

How did she get in here?

I could have sworn I locked my room the moment I entered.

“Queen Alary, you look beautiful this evening,” I greeted, bowing my head slightly, not daring to meet her eyes.

“Siofra, where have you been all day?”

“At the library, Mother.” I straightened my posture immediately. “I was gathering more knowledge about the village of Baernarta. If I am to marry the son of their young chief, then I should know more about their people.”

I answered politely, lifting my chin just the way I had been taught.

In the kingdom of the elves, queens ruled.

The Wand of Light had never once chosen a male ruler.

My mother, Queen Alary of Álfheimr, demanded perfection from her daughters.

“Siofra… I know you are lying.”

Her voice was calm, yet disappointment lingered heavily beneath it.

“What am I supposed to do with you?”

My chest tightened.

“Why can't you be more like your sister?”

There it was.

The comparison.

“She is graceful, composed… she carries herself exactly as a princess should.”

Her eyes swept over me.

“But you…” She sighed softly. “You are completely different from her.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice, and somehow, no matter how many times I heard those words… they still managed to sting.

“I'm sorry, Mother. I will try my best.”

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs. Now.”

The moment she left, I released a long breath I didn't realise I had been holding.

That was intense.

Now… where in the realms did I put that dress?

I hurried toward my wardrobe, searching through the rows of gowns, fabrics, and folded garments, but the dress was nowhere to be found.

Oh no.

Mother was going to kill me if she had to come looking for me again.

What do I do?

Maybe… I should start with my hair first.

I stood there, lost in thought, trying to decide on a hairstyle that would match the occasion, when a soft knock echoed through my room.

Who could that be?

Mother?

My stomach tightened instantly.

I quietly made my way to the door, hesitating before opening it.

“Siofra, it's me, Alma. Open the door.”

Relief flooded through me the second I heard her voice.

I quickly unlocked the door and let her in.

“Thank goodness you're here, Alma.” I frowned in frustration. “I desperately need your help with my hair, and I can't seem to find my dress.”

“That's because you left it in my room.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I honestly can't believe you've already forgotten that.”

“Sorry, Alma.” I sighed. “I'm just… confused right now.”

I rubbed my forehead.

“Is everyone already here?”

“Well, Eldarion’s family hasn't arrived yet, but you still need to hurry. Mother said we all have to be present to welcome them.”

It was then that I properly looked at Alma.

She had changed into another gown.

A breathtaking blue dinner dress adorned with delicate pearls that matched her necklace and earrings perfectly.

She looked elegant.

Graceful.

Effortlessly royal.

“You look beautiful,” I complimented without thinking.

Only after the words left my mouth did I realise I had actually said them aloud.

“Thank you,” Alma replied with a small smile. “But right now, we need to get you ready. Come sit.”

Before I could protest, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the large mirror standing across the room.

I sighed dramatically as I practically glued myself to the chair and surrendered to whatever transformation she had planned.

“You don't look happy,” Alma observed as she worked on my hair.

“Or excited. Why, if I may ask?”

I stared at my reflection.

“Are you serious, sis?”

Frustration slipped into my voice.

“All our lives, we've been told what to do.”

I began counting with my fingers.

“Do this. Don't do that. Princesses don't eat like that. Sit properly. Smile properly. Speak properly.”

I scoffed softly.

“Like… seriously.”

I turned slightly to look at her.

“Can't we just live our own lives for once? How long are we supposed to keep doing this?”

I hated the fact that both our lives revolved around pleasing our mother.

“We were trained from childhood to honour our duties and do what is expected of us,” Alma replied calmly.

I could hear the conviction in her voice.

“We must make Mother proud.”

Of course she would say that.

Father had Alma before he married my mother.

Her mother died only a few months after giving birth to her.

My mother had raised Alma as her own from the very beginning.

She once said she fell in love with Alma the first moment she laid eyes on her.

And honestly…

Sometimes, I believed it.

Alma had always been Mother's favourite, despite not being her biological daughter.

Meanwhile, I received that familiar disappointed look whenever I failed to meet expectations.

I admired my sister.

I truly did.

But I couldn't be like her.

Mother wanted me to be perfect — composed, graceful, disciplined — just like Alma.

But I hated sacrificing my own happiness simply to become the version of myself someone else wanted.

Alma would make an excellent queen.

She had been preparing for that role her entire life.

I just wasn't sure I wanted the life they had already chosen for me.

“I wish I had even half of your courage. I don't want to get married just because my parents think I should. I want to get married because I want to… but Mother isn't listening, and Father can't even talk her out of it.”

I pouted like a child whose favourite snack had been cruelly denied.

“You are such a child, Siofra,” Alma said through a soft chuckle.

The ironic part was that no one ever took me seriously.

“All done.” Alma carefully placed the delicate tiara on my head. “Now you look beautiful and perfect… just like a princess should.”

I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I barely recognised myself.

I truly hoped the chief's son deserved all this effort.

He had better not waste my time… or my patience.

“Siofra, cheer up. We're only having dinner with them,” Alma said reassuringly. “You can always find a fault in Eldarion and reject him.”

“But Mother will lose her mind,” I replied, releasing an exhausted sigh. “Then she'll give me one of those terrifying looks.”

“Since when did you start listening to Mother or doing everything she says?” Alma asked with amusement. “You've always been your own boss.”

I turned to her, confused.

“Are you telling me to go against her orders?”

That alone was shocking.

Alma had never encouraged me to follow my own desires.

Usually, she spent her time trying to shape me into a second version of herself.

“No, don't misunderstand me, Siofra.” She softened her voice. “But you've never truly listened to anyone.”

She continued working on the final details of my appearance.

“You've always had this part of you that challenges Mother. As a queen… and as your mother… she doesn't know how to handle that.”

She paused.

“We are her daughters. We represent her everywhere outside these palace walls.”

Then she met my eyes through the mirror.

“But I know you too well. You value your happiness more than anything.”

Her voice gentled.

“I just don't want you feeling alone… or left behind.”

I stared at her quietly.

“So… do what you always do. If you don't like Eldarion… don't listen to Mother.”

I laughed bitterly.

“You and I both know the punishment waiting for me if I ever go against her will.”

I lowered my eyes.

“I wish Mother understood me the way she understands you.”

Alma's expression softened for a brief moment before she cleared her throat.

“Come on. Let's get you dressed so we can head downstairs. If Mother comes back and finds us still here… it won't end well.”

I simply followed her into her room, which sat beside mine.

She presented my dress to me.

The moment my eyes landed on the gown, a heavy sigh escaped me.

The dress was stunning.

Deep red, elegant, heavily detailed…

And absolutely not me.

“Do I really have to wear this?” I asked miserably. “You know how much I hate the colour red.”

“Mother chose it,” Alma reminded me. “And remember… princesses aren't supposed to be picky.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it nearly hurt.

After changing, I asked Alma to help me choose the right shoes to match the gown.

“I look like a duck,” I muttered while staring at myself in the mirror.

I hated overly decorated dresses.

I preferred simplicity.

Minimal designs.

Comfort.

And I absolutely despised having my hair pinned up.

I loved my hair down.

“Do not touch that hair, young lady,” Alma warned, shooting me a sharp look.

Unfortunately, my fingers were already tugging at the hairpin securing the impossible hairstyle.

“Can't I just wear my hair down? Please?”

“No, you cannot.”

She grabbed my wrist before I could destroy her hard work.

“Now come on.”

Alma practically dragged me out of her room as we joined our parents in the dining hall.

“Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” Father complimented warmly.

Meanwhile, Mother simply stared at me, inspecting every detail.

“Thanks, Dad, but I honestly don't think I'll survive long in this dress.”

I tugged awkwardly at the fabric.

“How exactly am I supposed to eat and digest food properly while wearing this thing?”

“Are you genuinely uncomfortable… or simply making excuses?” Mother asked while approaching me.

“Yes, I am extremely uncomfortable,” I answered quickly. “Does that mean I can change into one of my own dresses?”

“Take that dress off,” Mother replied calmly, “and you will be meeting the chief and his family in your underwear.”

Before I could recover from the threat, she pulled out the seat beside her.

My heart nearly sank.

Couldn't I sit beside Father?

I looked desperately toward him, silently begging for rescue.

But the apologetic look he gave me told me everything.

I was on my own.

Again.

Not long after, the chief's family arrived.

A family of four.

The chief.

His wife.

Their daughter.

And their son.

When my parents rose to welcome them, I remained lost inside my own thoughts until my name suddenly sliced through the room.

“Siofra.”

Mother's voice carried enough warning to make me jump.

I looked around.

Wonderful.

I was the only person still sitting.

Everyone else was already greeting our guests.

I let out a nervous laugh and quickly stood, smoothing down my dress while forcing a graceful smile onto my face.

“This is my first daughter, Alma,” Mother announced proudly after introducing Father. “She is my pride and will one day rule Álfheimr.”

The pride shining in her eyes was impossible to miss.

I wished… just once… she would look at me that way too.

“And this is Siofra, my second daughter.”

That was it.

No warmth.

No pride.

Nothing.

I smiled elegantly anyway and bowed politely.

“Your daughters are truly beautiful, Your Highness,” the chief said warmly. “It is an honour to have the princess marry my son.”

“We are deeply honoured, Your Highness,” his wife added with a pleasant smile.

“Of course,” Mother replied smoothly. “Agada and I have been friends our entire lives. Our children are perfectly suited for one another.”

She continued conversing with the chief and his wife while I observed Eldarion from across the room.

He looked just as uninterested as I felt.

A faint frown rested on his bright green eyes.

Then suddenly…

He looked up.

Our eyes met.

He smirked.

Then casually looked away.

Excuse me—

Did he just smirk at me?

You have to be kidding.

I couldn't stop myself from glaring back.

“Siofra.”

Mother's voice immediately dragged the elegant smile back onto my face.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Why don't you show Eldarion around the palace? I'm sure he must be curious about certain things.”

“Okay, Mother.”

I walked toward Eldarion, my nerves tightening the closer I got.

This was absurd.

Standing before him, I forced politeness onto my face.

“Shall we?”

I turned to lead the way, but apparently our interaction wasn't satisfactory enough for Mother.

“You both behave like sworn enemies,” she commented lightly. “But that can be fixed.”

Oh no.

“Siofra, why don't you hold Eldarion’s hand?”

My eyes widened internally.

“There are many maidens around the palace, and they may become attracted to Eldarion. He is rather handsome, after all.”

“Yes, Mother.” My smile remained perfectly in place. “I won't let anyone near him.”

I turned toward Eldarion.

“He is all mine.”

With a smile that never reached my eyes, I grabbed his hand, intertwined our fingers together—

And dragged him straight out of the room.