As Emerald sat before her mirror, she reflected on the journey that had brought her to this moment. She observed the maids bustling about, ensuring she looked every bit the queen her mother envisioned her to be. "Could things have turned out differently?" she pondered, but there was strength in her resolve.
Growing up as a first daughter was no small feat. In her society, first daughters and princesses from noble and royal families faced immense expectations, primarily revolving around forming powerful alliances through marriage. Emerald stood poised on the brink of that reality.
Her father had always cherished her—the daughter he had longed for. After welcoming four sons with his first wife, who tragically passed away during childbirth, he married her mother. A year later, Emerald arrived, followed by six sisters in a single remarkable birth. It was clear why her father held such admiration for her mother.
Emerald's affection for her father was profound. Over her nineteen years, he had fulfilled every request, even allowing her to train with her older brothers, who welcomed her with open arms. She couldn't help but smile as fond memories of her carefree childhood washed over her, a time when suitors had not yet begun to approach their home seeking her hand in marriage.
She was a striking image, resembling her father with her green eyes and flowing, dark hair that cascaded below her waist. In contrast, her sisters mirrored their mother, with their blonde locks and dark brown eyes. Though her mother often reminded her of how fortunate she was to possess her beauty, Emerald found herself scolded for her messy appearance after training with her brothers.
Emerald had mastered the delicate balance of preparing to be a queen and honing her skills with a sword. Despite the challenges, her efforts were yielding results; she had become skilled enough to impress her brothers. One memorable afternoon, she successfully disarmed William, her third brother, a feat that sent him sprinting to their father with the news. Lord Edward had laughed heartily and crowned her "Emerald the Great," a title she wore with pride.
However, the joyous days were clouded by uncertainty. Just a month ago, Lord Edward summoned her to the grand hall, and with a mix of anticipation and apprehension, she approached. Upon seeing her mother seated beside her father with an approving smile, a sense of foreboding settled in. The announcement marked an indelible shift in her life: a proposal to marry Prince George, the Crown Prince of Rivenwood had arrived. The hour that followed was filled with her mother's directives on how to conduct herself from that day forward, which included the heartbreaking instruction to never wield a sword again.
She held back tears, determined to uphold her promise to her father—that she would embrace her duties as the first daughter upon coming of age, provided he allowed her to continue her training. Yet the knot of anxiety in her stomach remained a reminder of her aspirations.
"All done, my lady!" Edith exclaimed, her excitement breaking through the tension in the room. Emerald locked eyes with her reflection in the mirror, momentarily spellbound by the image before her. The maids chuckled softly, revelling in her astonishment. She was breathtaking. Unmistakably beautiful, but tonight, she radiated something more. Rising from her chair, she admired the stunning transformation. Her dark hair, intricately woven and elegantly secured with a silver clip, tumbled down her back. The green off-shoulder gown hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating her eyes, while a silver necklace adorned her neckline, complementing her pale skin.
At that moment, the door swung open, revealing her mother, Lady Aviante. A look of satisfaction graced her face as she surveyed her daughter. With a nod of approval, she declared, "It's time to go." Emerald squared her shoulders and stepped forward, ready to embrace whatever awaited her.