Elara walked into the hall, her stomach already heavy with the weight of the meeting. Her father was waiting for her, sitting at the head of the table with a look that could freeze the air. His disappointment was always worse than his anger, but today, it seemed they were one and the same.

“Elara,” he started, his voice cool, but the edge of anger was there. “You’re late. This is important. Your responsibility to this family—”

Before he could finish, she cut him off. “I know, Father. I had matters to attend to. I’m here now.”

His eyes narrowed. “Matters? Your place is here, in this room. We have a legacy to protect, and you can’t even make it to a simple meeting on time?”

Her chest tightened, but she stood her ground, refusing to be made small by his words.

His voice rose, as it always did when he was frustrated. “You always think you know better, Elara. But your selfishness is becoming intolerable!”

And just like that, the slap came—hard, quick, and loud. The sting was sharp, the heat spreading across her cheek as she stumbled back slightly, shocked more by the suddenness than the pain. The room fell silent.

She didn’t move for a moment, just stood there, eyes wide. But then, something inside her shifted. Without a word, she raised her hand and silenced him with a gesture. The air between them was thick, but she didn’t look away.

“No,” she said, her voice firm, shaking just a little from the surge of emotion. “I’ve had enough.”

Her breath caught in her chest as she held his gaze, refusing to let the anger overwhelm her. “I am not a child anymore. You can’t control me like this. You can’t treat me like this.”

She wasn’t shouting, but her words were clear. Raw. “I don’t care what you think, what you expect of me. I’m done trying to meet your standards.”

Her voice cracked, but she pushed on. “I’ve been trying to live up to your image for years, and I can’t do it anymore. I’m done.”

Her hands were shaking at her sides, but she stepped back, turned, and walked out of the room before she could say more. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she forced herself to keep moving.

She had to get out. To keep herself together, even though everything felt like it was falling apart.

Elara’s footsteps echoed in the empty hall as she walked down the narrow corridor, her heart pounding in her chest. The sting on her cheek throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the heat of the emotions roiling inside her. She had never spoken to him like that before—never stood up for herself so fiercely, so unapologetically.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled open the door to her room, slamming it shut behind her. The familiar silence of the space wrapped around her like a blanket, but it didn’t feel safe anymore. Nothing felt safe anymore.

She walked across the room to the small window overlooking the courtyard, staring out at the distant trees. The cool air from the open window brushed her skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She couldn’t believe she’d said those words—those true words. But she also couldn’t ignore the relief that surged through her. For the first time, she felt like she had taken a step toward freedom, even if it meant breaking something inside her that she didn’t know how to fix.

Her father’s words replayed in her mind: You always think you know better, Elara. But your selfishness is becoming intolerable!

She was selfish? For wanting to be her own person? For wanting to make her own choices? For wanting a life that wasn’t determined by the suffocating expectations of someone who didn’t even see her for who she was?

Her hands pressed against the cool glass of the window, the reality of the situation sinking in. She couldn’t go back now. There was no going back. She had just severed the last tether that had kept her bound to the life she was supposed to lead—the life he had designed for her.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She wasn’t sorry. She couldn’t afford to be sorry anymore. This was the moment she chose to live for herself.

Her body felt heavy, as if gravity had doubled its pull, and her mind spun in circles. She needed to leave. But where would she go? She had no idea. There was nothing outside of her family’s world that she knew. Her fingers grazed the edges of the desk, her eyes catching on the journal she had abandoned weeks ago. It felt like an eternity since she’d written in it, but she found herself pulling it open now, needing to ground herself in something familiar.

The page was half-empty, the ink smeared from where she’d cried the last time she’d written. But there, in the corner, were a few words, barely legible:

"I’m more than this."

She stared at those words for a long time. More than this. More than the daughter her father had tried to shape her into. More than the puppet she had allowed herself to be. She could be more. She was more.

The sound of the door creaking open startled her, and she spun around, her breath catching in her throat. For a brief second, she thought it was him—her father, coming to drag her back into his world of control. But it wasn’t.

It was Nate.

Nate, her older brother by a year, stood in the doorway, his face lined with worry and tension. He’d always been there for her, no matter what. He had protected her from their father’s harshness when he could, and she’d always felt like she could rely on him, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

His gaze softened as he took in her appearance—her reddened cheek, the tension in her body, the way she was holding herself as if trying to keep herself together. Without a word, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him gently.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and careful. “I… I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer at first, her gaze fixed on the floor. Okay? No, she wasn’t okay. She wasn’t sure if she ever would be, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that she wasn’t turning back.

Elara took a deep breath and finally met his eyes, forcing herself to steady her voice. “I’m not sure. But I think I will be.” She paused. “I think I’m finally doing the right thing. For me.”

Nate took a hesitant step closer, his gaze flicking over her face. He was trying to read her, trying to understand, but there was a worry in his eyes that she wasn’t sure she wanted to address. She couldn’t let anyone worry about her. Not now.

“I don’t know if this is the right thing,” she said, her voice shaky. “But I do know I can’t stay. I don’t belong here anymore. And I’m not going to let him make me feel like I’m nothing.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m not nothing.”

Nate’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening. He stepped closer, and before she could process it, he pulled her into a tight hug.

Elara froze for a split second, the intensity of the moment washing over her. But then she sank into him, allowing herself to crumble against his chest. She had always felt safe with him. Her older brother, the one who had looked out for her, protected her, and made sure she was never completely alone.

Nate’s arms tightened around her, his voice soft but determined as he whispered, “You won’t stay here. I promise. You won’t have to live like this anymore. I’ll find a way out for you, Elara. I will. Just… just give me time.”

She held on to him, her hands clutching the back of his shirt as if she could hold on to that promise forever. Tears, ones she hadn’t even known she was holding back, spilled down her cheeks as she whispered back, “I can’t stay. I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay.”

“You don’t have to,” Nate reassured her, pulling back just slightly to look her in the eyes. His expression was fierce with resolve, his thumb brushing away the tears on her cheek. “I’ll help you. We’ll figure this out together. No matter what it takes, Elara.”

Elara met his gaze, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she saw a glimmer of hope. She wasn’t alone. She wouldn’t have to face this by herself. Nate would find a way. He always did.

“I believe you,” she said softly, her voice steadying.

And with that, a weight she didn’t realize she had been carrying began to lift, if only slightly. But for the first time in years, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of something better, something beyond the walls her father had built around her.

“I’ll fight for you, Elara,” Nate promised, his arms still around her.

Elara stood still for a moment in the silence of her room, the sting from her father’s slap still lingering on her cheek, but it was now accompanied by something else—a growing determination. She’d never spoken like that to him before. She'd never stood up to the weight of his control, but for once, she'd had enough.

Nate's comforting words echoed in her mind. "I'll find a way out for you. I promise."

Her hand rested on her chest, trying to steady the thrum of her heartbeat. She needed space. Air. A moment to herself without the suffocating expectations of being the princess—his perfect daughter, confined to a life she never chose.

She took a deep breath and stood up, glancing at her reflection in the polished mirror. A princess’s reflection—golden crown, elegant attire, poised posture. She reached for a delicate scarf and wrapped it loosely around her neck, then quickly changed into more comfortable, though still regal, clothing: a simple but luxurious soft green dress, the fabric flowing gently as she moved.

Her boots were polished, yet her movements were deliberate, casual even, as she gathered her things—her leather satchel, the one she always carried with her when she needed space, and her sketchbook. Drawing had always been her escape, the one thing her father had never fully controlled. It was her own small rebellion, her way of remembering that she had more to her than the crown upon her head.

She left her room quietly, making her way down the grand hallway, avoiding the guards who might have questioned her sudden departure. They were used to her routines, and her absence would raise no alarms. In the early evening, the castle was still, save for a few wandering servants and the distant clatter of armor from the guards on duty. She walked with purpose but not haste, her thoughts focused on the courtyard.

Elara pushed open the heavy door to the outer courtyard and stepped into the cool evening air. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, the sky painted with warm tones of gold and orange. The stone walls surrounding the courtyard were draped in ivy, and the lush greenery inside was calming—a small oasis away from the towering walls of the castle and the relentless weight of her royal duties.

She made her way past the statues and fountains, drawn toward the small garden at the back. The area was quiet, serene. The flowers were beginning to wilt as the season changed, but the delicate fragrance still lingered in the air. The soft rustling of the leaves in the trees seemed to comfort her, as if the world outside was momentarily forgotten.

Elara settled on a stone bench near the far corner of the courtyard, the same place where she had spent many quiet moments alone in the past. It was here, amidst the greenery, that she had always found peace.

She opened her satchel and pulled out her sketchbook, her fingers moving instinctively to the pencil she kept tucked in its pages. As her pencil touched the paper, she let her thoughts drift away from the harsh words of her father, the suffocating expectations, and the responsibilities she had never asked for. For a brief moment, she was just Elara. Not the princess, not the heir to the throne, just herself.

Her pencil moved easily, capturing the curves of the wildflowers, the delicate veins in the leaves, and the way the light fell through the branches of the trees. Drawing was her only escape from the constant weight of being the perfect princess. It allowed her to reclaim a small piece of herself, her own identity outside of her royal title.

As she worked, the evening sky grew darker, the stars beginning to peek through the fading light. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the distant hum of the castle seemed miles away, and for the first time that day, Elara could breathe freely. She wasn’t just a princess in that moment—she was an artist, a young woman reclaiming her peace.

The sketchbook filled with the soft lines of plants and flowers, the reflection of her thoughts and emotions translated into ink. She wasn’t thinking of her father’s angry words or the role she was meant to play; she was thinking only of the beauty of the world around her, the simplicity of the plants growing freely without expectation, without judgment.

As she finished her last sketch, she leaned back on the bench, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment. Her heart still thudded with the weight of her confrontation with her father, but in this moment, she had found a space where she could simply exist. She was more than the princess, more than the title forced upon her.

Elara closed the sketchbook, standing slowly and gazing out at the garden once more, the quiet of the night settling over her. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but as the moonlight bathed the courtyard in soft silver light, she felt a surge of clarity. She had her brother’s promise, and maybe, just maybe, she had a chance to find a life that was hers—one where she could choose her path.

For now, she would enjoy the simple peace of the courtyard. But one thing was certain—Elara wasn’t going to stay within the castle’s walls forever. She couldn’t. Not anymore.

(yeah we gotta figure that one out lol. Maybe on her way out she runs into Sage and invites him in? Like lets him use a room in the castle or something? Nate could always approach Sage about getting her out of the castle too)