Rosella lay curled up on her bed, her face buried deep into the softness of her pillow. Quiet sobs wracked her body, muffled by the fabric. Her mind spun in a whirlwind of shame and frustration.
What will Mother think of me now? she thought bitterly. She would never make me the crown princess... She'll compare me to that brat, Samantha, that insolent little wench...
Rosella gritted her teeth, angry at herself for crying. Why am I even wasting tears over this? she scolded inwardly. It's not as if I ever wanted to marry Prince Lucas in the first place.
Wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, Rosella forced herself to sit up. She hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the far wall as if it held all the answers she lacked.
"I have nothing to lose," she whispered fiercely. "Whether this marriage succeeds or fails... it was never my choice."
The sound of the door creaking open snapped her from her thoughts. She turned sharply to see Samantha standing hesitantly in the doorway.
"Hey..." Samantha said softly.
Rosella scowled and quickly wiped at her eyes. "Can't you knock?"
Samantha winced. "Sorry... my mind skipped that. I was worried about you."
Rosella gave a sharp laugh, bordering on a scoff. "What a joke. Worried? About me?"
Samantha stepped fully into the room, her face open and earnest. "I'm not joking, Rosella. I really was worried," she said, her voice trembling slightly with sincerity. She crossed the room slowly and sat on the edge of Rosella's bed. "I know how much you've always wanted to make your mother proud. And I admire that. I do. But you don't have to keep hurting yourself just to make others happy."
Rosella said nothing, her eyes glistening with fresh tears she refused to shed.
"You deserve happiness too," Samantha continued gently. "Not the kind that comes from meeting everyone's expectations... but the kind that comes from choosing your own path."
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the faint crackling of the fireplace. Rosella stared at her hands, twisting the fabric of her dress between her fingers.
"You sound so sure of yourself," Rosella said finally, her voice low and rough from crying.
"I'm not," Samantha admitted with a small smile. "But I do know that no one else gets to decide what makes you worthy, Rosella. Not your mother. Not the court. Not even Prince Lucas."
Rosella let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tightness in her chest loosen just a little.
"You think it's that easy?" she whispered.
"No," Samantha said. "I think it's hard. Really hard. But it's worth it."
Without thinking, Rosella leaned against her, resting her head lightly on Samantha's shoulder. For once, she allowed herself a small moment of weakness.
Maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to fight alone anymore.
Even though Rosella wasn't really the ideal partner one could ask for support.