The Prologue
Alone in her room, Peony stared into the mirror on her dark granite dresser. Her dark scarlet bed was perfectly neat along with her desk. The obsidian floor under her black platform heels clicked when she walked. For now, she sat on her bed. She wore a blood orange blouse with a rich crimson skirt. It was a traditional hanfu for her culture, which she fully embraced now. She brushed her red locks in the mirror.
As the brush ran through her hair, her thoughts turned to Persimmon. A shudder went through her spine. She should have never been in contact with that girl. The brunette was too stupid to comprehend basic wit. It was rather embarrassing that two very powerful kings could have such an pathetic daughter. With her clumsiness, she’ll surely run her kingdom into the ground. A knock at the door diverted her from her thoughts.
“Lady Peony, someone requests you at the back entryway.” A servant spoke.
“Who is it?” The redhead asked, still brushing her hair.
“Princess Persimmon of Flora. Would you like to speak with her?”
Peony paused for a moment, tightening her hands into fists. She assumed she got the hint when she stopped writing to her. But of course not, she has to embarrass her by showing up at her door.
“Yes I would.” She growled, sparks rising in her hair out of anger.
“Okay, my lady.” The servant said before walking off.
Peony followed after pulling her hair into a ponytail. It cracked behind her, a silent festering of her rage. The servant clearly noticed as he walked slightly faster. Each footstep felt more propelled as she neared the back door. The memories of the brunette’s smile and laughter clouded her mind. The feeling of her skin on hers, the ecstasy when their lips touched, it all cascaded onto her in a toxic waterfall. She swallowed the memories like the lump in her throat. She didn’t need a flare up right now, she had business to sort.
Finally, she stood at the backdoor where Persimmon was waiting. Her gut was a mess and hair sparking a little. Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside. The princess of Flora was sitting in a carriage overgrown with vines. One wrapped itself around her hand, which she clutched. Her puffy baby doll dress was a light hue of green with blue undertones. It had long puffy sleeves and a skirt that covered her knees, bows placed on her hips and collar. Her delicate brown curls were pulled into a messy bun with a ton of stray strands. A sliver tiara unsteadily balanced on her head, pushing her bangs over her face. She looked a wreck compared to the last time the redhead saw her. The brunette started to open her mouth, but Peony cut her off.
“Why are you here?” The redhead asked, voice dripping with rage.
“I want to talk,” Persimmon stated, “You stopped writing to me and I got scared.”
.
“Didn’t you get the hint?” Peony asked, irritation building, “I’m done with you.”
The brunette’s face froze in horror. Tears started to well in her eyes as she tried to talk.
“Wait, w-why?!” She stammered.
“Isn’t it obvious? We should’ve never been together in the first place!” The fire princess said, officially agitated.
Could this girl be any more idiotic?! Her parent’s reminded her of both their kingdoms’ rivalry, breaking her out of her trance. Was she trying to pretend she loved her? What a monster.
“I thought you loved me back! We’re soulmates! Why are you leaving?!” The brunette cried, those tears threatening to leave her eyes.
“Our kingdoms are at war! We can’t be lovers as we are rivals!”
“We don’t need to be rivals if we don’t feel that way!”
“Fate’s already been sealed! We can’t be together!” The redhead shouted, hair burst into flames, showing her unfiltered rage.
“I don’t care what fate says! I’d rather have you than my crown!” Persimmon bawled, hot tears pouring down her cheeks.
The vine in her hand squeezed it tightly as she sobbed. Her mascara flowed down in black ink, thick with anguish. Peony felt a sting in her eyes watching her past love sob. Happy memories of the two flashed in her mind. Persimmon’s cute laughter, the feel of her curls between her fingers, all the things that made her so angelic in her eyes came back to her. She felt wet warmth trickle down her face as the tears in her eyes fell.
“... I know you deeply love me,” Peony stated gently, flames dying in her hair, “I sincerely wish I could do the same.”
Persimmon sniffled as she listened with teary eyes.
“But we can’t love each other. I cut you off for my kingdom’s sake, not my own. You need to do the same for your own.”
“But, why? Why must we let our crowns decide who we are?” The brunette monkey choked.
“It’s inevitable. No one can argue with fate.” The fiery bull said, “Now leave before you endanger both our crowns.”
“I don’t CARE about my crown. I’d rather have you than a symbol of royalty.” The monkey pleaded.
The redhead felt her fists clench as Persimmon begged with her eyes for Peony to change her mind. She knew she couldn’t take her back. Her throat seemed to close, trying to stop her from this breakup. But this is for the betterment of her kingdom, not herself.
“... I’m sorry, but you must let me go too. Leave.” Peony stated, a quiet sob leaving her mouth.
“I can’t! Leaving you would ruin me!”
“Leave.”
“I’m not leaving you in a world that doesn’t care about you!”
“Leave.”
“No! I can’t leave you he-”
“LEAVE!” Peony yelled, her hair shooting into flames with rage, “I ALREADY TOLD YOU WE WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE TOGETHER! LEAVE NOW BEFORE I CALL SECURITY!”
Persimmon froze stiff in her carriage, eyes wide with shock. Another vine came down to place itself in the princess’s hand before she burst into guttural tears. Four vines came to comfort her while one cracked the reins to the white horse that pulled the carriage. The horse yelped before taking off back to Flora with the princess in tow. Peony could still hear Persimmon’s cries echo through the woods along with galloping from the horse.
She waited until she couldn’t hear the crying anymore before heading back inside. The silence felt so unnatural, as though all sounds were muted. She went back to brushing her hair knowing she did what was best for Flamba, even if it meant leaving her light behind.