Young Writers Society

Love is a friend, a fire, a heaven, a hell, where pleasure, pain, and sad repentance dwell

[Richard Barnfield]

I awoke the next morning and was surprised to hear that Uncle Maurice – the newly crowned King of Asinya - was planning to host a grand banquet at the castle that night to celebrate his succession to the throne. Knowing Lord Sébastian as well as I did, he would surely persuade my uncle to use the occasion to introduce me to as many eligible suitors that the Kingdom possessed. It was crystal clear that he and the royal court considered me a thorn in their sight, a stain on their Kingdom, a reminder of my father’s legacy, and therefore wanted me out of the way as soon as possible.

Their hostility towards me made me feel more alone and vulnerable than I could ever remember. I felt suffocated and isolated in my own home and it broke my heart, but I knew that no matter how much I wished, I could not afford to disobey the orders I would be given. I was now Uncle Maurice’s ward, under his guardianship and under his mercy. I was duty-bound to obey his every command.

From the window of my dreary and lifeless quarters, I took the time to look out onto the castle gardens below and watched as several red breasted robins gathered together around one of the water fountains for a drink. I envied their freedom, for they had wings to fly away whilst I had royal blood that forever kept me in chains.

Since the demise of my father I had often thought of running away, perhaps to my mother’s homeland or to a countryside somewhere with no castles, kings, or duties, where there were just trees and acres and acres of fresh, green, perfect land. But the idea dared not dwell in my mind for long. This castle, no matter which king claimed it as their own, belonged to my father. It was within the ancient stone walls that he and my grandfather went on to become the sixteenth and seventeenth kings of Asinya. It was here where my mother had died from the Great Plague, and where the memories of my childhood, filled with happiness and laughter resided. However much I wished, however difficult my life would become here, I could not find it in my heart to leave this place. Not until I was forced to.

As night began to draw near, I sat at my dressing table looking at my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me expressionlessly was a thin, pale skinned girl dressed in black, with sharp blue eyes and long crimson curls. Usually, on an occasion such as this one I would take the time to choose a much more elegant outfit than the simple one I now had on. I’d perhaps add some glistening jewels to my neck and ears, and maybe even try something a little daring with my hair, but today trivial things such as how I looked did not seem to matter anymore. Turning away from my reflection, I took a deep breath in an attempt to prepare myself to face the royal court for the first time since the death of my father.

Nan entered my chambers just in time to see me get to my feet.

“You look beautiful,” she smiled, affectionately tucking a loose curl behind my ear. “How are you feeling?”

I sighed. “All I want to do is curl up in my bed and cry.”

“I know...” she nodded sadly, before suddenly pulling out a familiar gold chain from inside her pocket. It had a heavy gold heart-shaped locket that had a crown at the top.

“My mother’s necklace!” I said elatedly.

Nan chuckled as I took it from her hand. “I had it fixed this morning by a jeweller friend of mine from the Northern towns. He is so very fond of you that he refused to take a single penny for his work.”

“Oh, thank you, Nan!”

“You’re welcome, my Lady,” she smiled. “Please, open it.”

Inside were two tiny portraits on either side of the locket. On the right was a painting of my mother dressed in her favourite pink and gold gown. Her crimson-coloured curls hung loose on her neck, and her striking blue eyes, even in a painting, seemed to emanate kindness and warmth. On the other side of the locket was a portrait of my father in his later years, with streaks of gray in his curly hair and beard, which framed his otherwise kind and handsome face.

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek as I ran my finger across the paintings. “I miss them both so much...”

Nan took the locket from my hand and hung it around my neck before facing me towards the mirror and smiling at my reflection. “King Théodore and Queen Céline may not be with you in person, my Lady, but they will always be with you in your heart. Let their memories and this locket be what remind you of that.”

We were suddenly interrupted when my chamber doors flung open. Standing in the doorway before us was Aunt Vivienne, a tall, pale and severe-looking woman with cat-like green eyes and a prominent chin. She was dressed in a teal coloured gown detailed with tiny crystals, ornaments of shining pearls hung from her neck and her long ebony black hair was drawn into a tight bun underneath her glistening royal crown.

Nan and I both curtseyed respectfully as she approached us. Aunt Vivienne responded by throwing un-interested nods at the two of us before looking over my attire distastefully.

“You’re wearing black, dear?” she asked, confused.

“To mark my father’s death, your Highness,” I replied, unable to understand why she even needed to ask such a question.

“Well, I understand that, of course,” she said irritably. “But tonight’s banquet is to celebrate your uncle’s succession to the throne! What will people say?”

“With all due respect, Aunt Vivienne, I am no longer the Princess so it should not matter what people say.”

Aunt Vivienne’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, yes,” she said, baring a sudden smile, “that reminds me; I don’t know whether you have heard but tonight my Isabel will be making her first appearance as the new Princess of Asinya!”

I threw a sideways glance at Nan who rolled her eyes in annoyance. It seemed that Aunt Vivienne had finally reached the point she was most excited to discuss, the real reason why she had entered my quarters. She wanted to rub her daughter’s new title in my face.

“That is wonderful news,” I said humbly. “I am pleased for her.”

“Yes, we all are...” her cat-like eyes searched my face as though hoping to notice a glimmer of jealousy, but she found none. The reality was that I could care less that my fifteen year-old cousin now held the crown. My father’s death had robbed me from things far greater than a title.

“She is so excited, bless her,” Aunt Vivienne continued to press on, “...very nervous too, mind you. The poor darling is anxious to see how the court will respond to her, but I told her...I said that you have nothing to worry about sweetheart, they will all love you, and I am right, of course, I mean, what is there not to like about my little angel?”

I would have dearly loved to have laughed at that precise moment. The reality was that my younger cousin Isabel – known widely among the court for her dissolute and promiscuous living – was anything but a little angel. However, I felt it would be unwise to test Aunt Vivienne’s patience at such a time.

Instead, a few seconds of silence passed between us only to be disturbed by the distant sounds of clattering china coming from downstairs.

“Well then,” Aunt Vivienne suddenly clapped her hands together excitedly. “I shall see you down at the banquet. The Duke of Laon will be accompanying my Isabel, who will be escorting you? I could ask one of the servants, perhaps-”

“That will not be necessary, madam,” interrupted Nan pointedly. “I shall accompany the Lady Rose myself.”

Aunt Vivienne flinched. “Very well...” she threw a sharp sideways glance at Nan before turning her gaze back on me. “Do not be late, Rosaline. Your uncle has invited many prominent and eligible suitors to introduce you to tonight and he will not be happy to find that you have kept them waiting...”

I bowed in response and waited until Aunt Vivienne was safely out of my quarters before turning to Nan. “I don’t think I can do this...” I breathed. “It hasn’t even been a full day since my father’s death and instead of mourning his passing, I’m being forced to attend celebratory feasts and meet prospective husbands!”

Nan reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. “I know how difficult this must be for you, my Lady...” she said, heavily. “I wish I could find a way of easing your pain, but I’m afraid I am just as helpless as you are.” She held the locket that now hung from my neck. “All you can do is be strong.”



“THE LADY ROSALINE!”

I slowly entered the Grand Hall that night with my hand in Nan’s and tried not to look disheartened as the royal court and guests, dressed in silk robes of grey and blue, broke out into frantic whispers as I passed them.

“Ignore them,” muttered Nan quietly.

I nodded and instead immersed myself in the sumptuously decorated hall. Teal and silver coloured drapes made from the finest velvet hung from the ceiling and gallery, thousands of ornate silver candles hung over two long mahogany tables where the guests and royal court would be seated. These tables were laid with glittering silver plates and goblets encrusted with blue topaz and pearls.

I immediately noticed my cousin Isabel seated at the High Table at the top of the hall on a raised dais. She and her close gang of giggling ladies-in-waiting threw me smug glances upon seeing me enter. I looked away, hardly surprised by her behaviour. Isabel had always hated me, though to this day I still never understood why.

My eyes moved to the centre of the High Table, and there, in the large golden throne that once belonged to my father, sat Uncle Maurice.

I barely managed to take my seat before the royal guards stationed at the entrance of the chamber thumped their wooden canes to the floor twice silencing the Great Hall completely. The oak front doors immediately swung open, and all turned to look towards the direction.

“MAKE WAY FOR HIS EXCELLENCY, KING FREDERICK OF GENEVERE!”

The young king of Genevere entered the hall to much bows and curtseys from the admiring guests. He was dressed in an antique grey doublet, hose and matching jacket with bronze buttons and a thick fur collar, whilst on his neck sat his Chain of Royalty, encrusted with gems and pearls. He had short black hair standing slightly on end like tilted spikes and all the features of an Easterner, with his thin goatee, incredible height, olive-coloured skin, and unusually sharp green eyes.

Following closely behind him were members of his Privy Council, dressed in all black with golden Chain’s of Office around their necks. They marched in silence with their king through the Great Hall towards the High Table where Uncle Maurice, Aunt Vivienne and Isabel stood ready to welcome them.

“King Frederick seems handsome...and popular...” commented Nan, tilting her head towards the direction of the young women of the court, all of whom seemed to be battering their eyelids and fawning over the Genevere King.

“He is also a pig,” I added with distaste. The king was no doubt handsome, but the daring look in his sharp green eyes and the long red scar upon his left brow revealed a more sinister side to him that I was all too aware of.

Over the years I had heard many rumours about King Frederick of Genevere. I had heard that he was a rake, a womaniser who had bedded almost every lady of his court despite being the father of three young daughters. I had also heard that he was a tyrant who showed no mercy to those who opposed him, even going so far as killing his own brother-in-law on charges of treason, dragging, quartering and beheading him in the town square as an example for others to learn from. The most recent rumour, however, was that the king was under extreme pressure to produce an heir to the throne so that the line of succession could continue through his family, the Great House of Devere, and not through that of his much older cousin Lord Tybalt, from the Great House of Van Gard who already had an heir to his name.

Suddenly, my eyes fell on a rather familiar looking olive-skinned young man standing behind King Frederick.

“My Lady,” whispered Nan suddenly. “Isn’t that Tristan – Tristan Cavendish?”

The young man in question had dark brown hair that reached his ears and curled slightly. He had a face that would make any girl catch her breath, and sharp green eyes that, unlike King Frederick, had a kind, yet playful look about them. He smirked as he met my gaze and I felt my cheeks suddenly flush.

It was indeed Tristan.

I watched as he joined his fellow Privy Councillors on the lower tables as King Frederick stepped up onto the raised dais where he was greeted enthusiastically by my uncle.

After embracing one another, King Frederick immediately reached for his goblet and raised it high into the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the court!” he addressed. “It is with great pleasure and honour that our two proud nations are gathered here today to celebrate the beginning of a new and prosperous era!” he turned to face my uncle and aunt. “To the new King of Asinya, King Maurice, and his beautiful wife Queen Vivienne, may your reign be a blessing to your nation and a mercy to your people. Long live the King!”

There came a thunderous chorus of ‘Long live the King!’ before goblets were drained and the royal musicians entered the Great Hall to begin with the night’s entertainment.

As the music began, I watched with inward disbelief as guests all around me laughed and drank with joy.

It was as if my father had never existed.

While more wine and bread were passed around, I looked up at the High Table again. Isabel was eagerly drinking from her goblet while Aunt Vivienne threw her looks of dismay. At the centre of the table, Uncle Maurice was in deep conversation with King Frederick. As the two toasted their goblets together, I was startled to see the Genevere King look passed the many guests and straight into my eyes. I lowered my head immediately, more out of fear than respect.

As the night drew on, the intensity in King Frederick’s gaze upon me and the manner in which he and Uncle Maurice spoke with one another made me feel slightly uneasy. A thought suddenly crept into the back of my mind but I quickly dismissed it. Perhaps I was over-reacting, I told myself. There could be many reasons why Uncle Maurice had invited King Frederick to the banquet tonight, and many reasons why they both seemed to be having such a rigorous conversation with one another. Yet, I could not help but look upon them both with great anxiety, dearly hoping with all my heart that my Uncle was not doing what my heart was telling me he was.

In order to keep my focus elsewhere, I reluctantly began to mingle with some of the suitors Uncle Maurice had assigned Lord Sébastian to introduce me to, exchanging small-talk in the hope of finding at least one prospective husband that didn’t seem so obnoxious.

To my dismay I failed miserably.

“...So, long story short...” smiled the young prince of Zanar, as he dramatically combed back his hair with his fingers, “...my perfect aim saved the day, and it was truly a perfect aim if I may say so myself...”

I smiled, or at least attempted to do so, before moving on to the next prince, a rather stout one named Bartholomew from the Island of Mora who was at least three years my junior and who spoke to me with a mouthful of chicken. Nan, who had been standing beside me throughout the entire exchange, had looked at the Prince as though he was a revolting wart of some sort.

“My Lady...”

I suddenly turned to see Tristan standing before me. He lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss upon my hand, making the back of my neck burn, before giving Nan a brief but respective nod.

“Your Grace...” Nan curtseyed, smiling slightly before whispering in my ear, “I shall be near the entrance if you need me.”

Tristan waited until Nan was out of earshot before awkwardly clearing his throat. I found myself unable to hide the smile upon my face. He seemed to look so surprisingly shy in my presence.

“You look... uh...taller...” he said finally.

“As do you...” I smiled.

He laughed, a boyish twinkle appearing in his eyes. “I would’ve said beautiful, but I deemed that it would be an inappropriate comment to make considering you’re a princess.”

“I was a princess,” I blushed inwardly at his compliment, “My father’s death has reduced me to the title of ‘Lady’. My cousin Isabel now occupies the crown."

He nodded sadly, before signalling towards the castle courtyard, “Could we take a walk?”

“Of course...”

Together we ventured out of the Great Hall and into the castle courtyard lit with flaming torches.

“I was incredibly sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” Tristan continued. “King Théodore was a great leader and very much loved in our kingdom.”

“Thank you,” I replied, noticing that out of the three hundred guests that had approached me that night with the same statement, Tristan had been one of the very few to say it with such a tone of sincerity that almost made it sound as though he cared.

A few seconds of silence passed between us.

“So, look at you,” I smiled, studying his golden Chain of Office. “I see it’s no longer Tristan Cavendish the troublemaker, but Tristan Cavendish the Duke of...”

“Unis,” he smirked, his eyes twinkling. “Shocking, isn’t it? Especially considering the circumstances in which we last met.”

“Do you mean at your parents anniversary when you got yourself drunk and interrupted my father’s toast?”

Tristan sheepishly scratched his head. “Ah, you remembered...”

“It was rather funny.”

“For you, maybe, my father said that I desecrated the legacy of my forefathers.”

“Well, I always knew you would do well in the end,” I smiled.

Tristan nodded gratefully. “I know...”

Aunt Vivienne suddenly appeared in the courtyard and hurriedly approached us both.

“Rosaline, what on earth are you doing standing out here, your Uncle is calling for you!” she breathed impatiently. She suddenly spotted Tristan and flinched slightly. “Ah, Your Grace... lovely to see you again!”

“Majesty,” Tristan bowed.

I turned to him, half wishing I could stay to talk with him more. “Please excuse me...”

“Of course,” he said, looking slightly disappointed.



“Ah, there you are, Rose!” shouted Uncle Maurice rather excitedly as I approached the High Table. “How are you enjoying my celebratory feast?”

“It has been thoroughly entertaining,” I lied.

“Well, of course it has!” he roared. “It is my party, after all!”

Lord Sébastian chuckled with him stupidly.

“Come now,” pressed Uncle Maurice. “I want to introduce you to an extremely good friend of mine, the honourable King Frederick of Genevere...” he turned to face the Genevere king. “Frederick, allow me to introduce you to my niece, the Lady Rosaline.”

“Majesty,” I curtseyed, avoiding his gaze.

“Lady Rosaline,” smiled King Frederick, slowly stroking his goatee. For several seconds I felt his eyes scrutinise mine before he spoke again, “She has her mother’s blue eyes, Maurice...” he declared.

My uncle responded with something of a smile.

“May I express my deepest sympathy over the tragic news of your father’s passing,” King Frederick continued more solemnly. “King Théodore was a man whose death has robbed the world of a brave, merciful and virtuous leader.”

I attempted a smile in thanks.

“I must say...” he pressed. “Your Uncle mentioned to me before that you were charming, intelligent, and gracious - a true daughter of Queen Céline. What your Uncle failed to mention, however, was your beauty...”

Suddenly, the trumpets were blown followed by sounds of violin and flute from the royal musicians. Guests began to cheer happily as they put down their goblets and one by one began leading their husbands and wives into the centre of the hall for some dancing.

The Genevere king stood from his seat and took my hand.

“My Lady, would you do me the honour of having this dance?” he asked.

I felt my neck burn in fear and my heart race inside me. Uncle Maurice and Aunt Vivienne enthusiastically signalled for me to oblige, so, unwillingly and obediently, I did so.

In the next moment, Frederick gently placed his hand around my waist and held the other in mine. From the corner of my eye, I could see Tristan, whose previously cheery gaze suddenly turned solemn, whilst the other women of the court began throwing me looks of deepest loathing.

As we began to dance a sudden surge of thoughts entered my mind.

Had King Frederick been watching me all this time because I was the niece of his friend, or did the manner in which he and Uncle Maurice speak together mean that there may have been a very different reason, a more catastrophic reason involved? In the moments that we danced together these thoughts began to run chaotically inside my head.

Surely even Uncle Maurice wouldn’t agree to marry me to a man like King Frederick. I was his only niece, his last surviving relative, surely I deserved better. Yet the sinister smile on the face of Lord Sébastian suddenly made me think twice....

..................................................

links to other chapters

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53716.html (chapter 1)

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53800.html (chapter 3)

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53888.html (chapter 4)

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post616970.html (chapter 5)

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic54589.html (chapter 6)

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic55095.html (chapter 7)

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post644335.html (chapter 8.

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post652505.html (chapter 9.

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic59246.html (chapter 10.

I liked it!!! It felt like it ended too soon, like there was no "punch line" to the end. Now that that's out of the way... Oki doki, reviewing time!
So, I thought that the introduction to King Frederik was a bit too noticeable, but I can't think of any different way to phrase it. Still, if you could change it a bit, just make it flow smoothly into the rest of the story, that would be nice.
Now, characters. Rose seems just a tad spoiled, not very emotional. I thought that we didn't hear enough of her thoughts during the beginning. Surely she was upset with her aunt and cousin and uncle, couldn't she have thought it? Or maybe she was already used to it. This is an important time in which we are introduced with who she is as a person, how she handles situations, so more thoughts would help us understand better.
Uncle. Hate him. Classic bad guy, and so is the rest of his family. That's good of you, in my mind, you didn't over do it, but stayed exactly as it should have.
Tristen. Let me guess, they'll fall in love, he'll fight with King Frederik over her, classic love thing. Still, he's shy, cute, and was introduced very nicely. Good job with him.
Plot.
As I said, Classic love thing. This is just my opinion, and just me asking, but please don't do that. Make it interesting. See, every reader at least once in their lives had read\seen\heard of a story like this. The plot line is so devastatingly familiar, that even with a great main character it's hard to pull it off as interesting. We need twists in the story to keep us hooked.
You wrote realise instead of realize in there somewhere.
Okay, now, I already said that I liked it. It's good. The sentences describing the hall were a bit long, try breaking them up. But my point is the descriptions were awesome. It was very good. Just watch Rose's thoughts and the plot line, and you're set. Please PM me for the next chapter as well! thanks
ofir

Thanks, did some changes

My apologies for the delay, it's essay month and a little hectic ^^

Woe is me, I'm the down trodden character who everyone is mean to...

Okay so I'd first like to comment on how exil most of your characters are portrayed as. This isn't always a bad thing but it's very easy to create mean family members for a reader to hate and to blame all of your main characters misfortune on them. It isn't necessary for them all to be so mean! I'd like to see you make these characters more well rounded. It's natural that her cousin should be glad to be princess as humans are selfish at their core (in general) but she doesn't have to rub it in the main character's face to make her feel bad. It would be just as hard a blow if she was humble and a little guilt ridden or apologetic about it and that would give more depth to her character. Don't make your villains purely evil and spiteful just for the ease of writing them. Make them real.

As the night went on, the intensity in his gaze sent unexpected shivers down my spine and the manner in which he and Uncle Midas sat spoke with one another made me feel slightly uneasy. I discretely looked upon them both with curiosity wondering what they could be talking about.

[I'd like to see you expand her thoughts here. What does she suspect they're talking about? She's not a fool, you've already told us that she expects to be partnered off to someone so why doesn't her mind immediately jump to the conclusion that her uncle is considering him? Most girls fear the worst and have a tendancy to over-react but even if she doesn't think this is possible the idea should cross her mind.]

You have some nice descriptions of the hall and such, I wouldn't mind seeing a few more though, just little things, maybe pick out a few details of their clothes so we have more idea of your era and what sort of dishes are there? You could describe their different scents and tastes, I assume she is eating? Or does she refuse to eat out of disrespect for her uncle? Something like that might be good character building.

My other comment is that you should slow down. You're giving too much of your story away. Take it easy and introduce a few more side characters as well so that the main love interest and villain aren't quite so obvious. Where are the other young gentlemen fighting over her hand? They may not be genuine about their love for her but you don't have to let on to the reader, have them approach her and apologise over her father's death. Perhaps some are better than others. Perhaps so many make an attempt that she doesn't believe any of them really care. Also show us her thoughts, what would be the best situiation for her? In her place I'd be thinking over who I could best stand to marry and who would keep me closest to the pallace life and being in power, weighing the pros of each against the cons: looks, personality, title.

In general I liked it. Take a read through and you'll see there's a few sentences that don't quite flow but other than that, some good writing here.

thank you

Hey there! Moving onto the second chapter ...

Nitpicks

Knowing him as well as I did COMMA he would surely use the occasion to introduce me to as many eligible suitors that the kingdom possessed.

It was crystal clear that he, his family and the royal court considered me a thorn in their sight, a stain on their kingdom, a reminder of my father’s legacy and wanted me out of their lives as quickly as possible.

I do like this a lot! However, both the metaphors you've used have been used many times before. Perhaps you could use another instead of/as well?

Since the demise of my father I had often thought of running away COMMA but the idea had left my mind as quickly as it had entered

It was within these ancient stone walls that my grandfather and father grew on to become the sixteenth and seventeenth kings of Asinya, where my mother had died from the great plague in my father’s arms smiling as she left the world, and where the memories of my childhood filled with happiness and laughter lay

I think you need different punctuation in this part - just split it up a little more.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied, noticing that out of the three hundred guests that had approached me with the same statement, Tristan had been the first to say it with a tone of sincerity that almost made it sound as though he cared.

Really? Not one other person out of three hundred? That does seem slightly harsh ...

Had he been watching me for the reason that I was the niece of his friend COMMA or did the manner in which he and my uncle spoke together mean that there may have been a different reason, a more catastrophic reason involved?

Surely even my uncle, as much as he hated my father and his legacy, wouldn’t agree to marry me to king Frederick of Genevere. I was his only niece, his last surviving relative. Yet the sinister smile on my uncle’s face, and the glares from the royal court suddenly made me think twice.

To be honest, from what you've said before I don't think that Rose would believe that. She already knows how much he hates her.

Overall:
I really enjoyed this chapter! You still need to work on some things, such as puntuation and awkward sentences, but the plot is opening up and I want to read more.
One thing I would add, however, is detail. At the moment, it feels like you're skipping over the less important things in the story so that you can tell the reader the really juicy stuff. Don't worry about that, let the plot unfold as it will.

Hope this helps!
~Amy

The nitpicks have been generally well handled, so I think I just have to echo a few points here. Well, one point.

Detail. This means characters, description, and plot. I'll start with characters.

Rose is still fairly emotionless. I'm not feeling her grief, I'm not feeling any justifiable hatred for her uncle, and I didn't even get much towards Frederick at the end there. I think I said before that though I understand she's royalty, and also that you're writing in third person, it doesn't mean that you can't focus on her emotions somewhat. You seem to skim over a lot of it.

The detail comes in with minor characters like Isabel and her aunt. Why are they so snide and why has Isabel "always hated" Rose? What happened there? If there's a backstory you're keeping 'til later, throw us a few hints, but don't reveal all of it. If there's not, work one out and slot a bit of it in somewhere.

Description-wise, it's as simple as not dedicating very obvious segments of prose to description and instead, working little bits in here and there. Use more stylistic devices, i.e. metaphors and similes, and don't rely so completely on basic sentences. I think you can do better, so work on showing us what's necessary. Maybe Tristan, as he seems to be nervous around Rose, almost slips on a squashed grape - there we go, we have detail on what they're eating - and grabs onto the [insert description here] drapes, almost knocking over the [description] wine? You see what I mean? It's not hard to work these things in.

And plot. It's been covered, but I'll just echo what ofir and Kitty15 said. You need to slow down, for one thing, and stop dumping all this information on us about characters. It was less prominent in this chapter, but a lot of what you said in the previous ones could have been filtered out and spread around a bit. Also, the traditional love story isn't always the best way to go. Make yours unique, so as ofir said, we don't feel we're reading something we've inevitably seen before.

Anyways, that's about it here. You've had some pretty good reviews - I'd sort out what they say before asking for too many more. There's such a thing as too much editing, sometimes.

Hi!

I wanted to mention that personally I don't find Rose to be spoiled, but she is slightly unemotional. She feels no rage that everyone is taking over her life without any consideration for her feelings. Also, we can't FEEL her hatred or grief.

Also, when you describe Tristan you say: 'and his brown curly hair looked just as scruffy', seems to me that scruffy is the wrong word, not something a 'Princess' would think. But that's just my thoughts.

I really, really enjoy your writing and this story, please keep it coming

Tanya

Thank you!

Hi Coco,

I noticed you changed 'scruffy' to 'untidy'. Thanks for the change, MUCH better, I love it

Tanya

Hi Coco, Pink here, as requested.
I just have a few nitpicks I would like to get out of the way first, before I say anything else about this piece.

I could smell the grand feast the servants were preparing in the kitchen below, roasted meat, fresh vegetables and exquisite wine...

I don't think her sense of smell is that superb to the point where she can smell wine.

An extreme tug from one of my ladies

Do the ladies hate her? Because I doubt they would tug her down like that, she was once their princess and she still deserves a bit of respect from the servants right? But that could just be me.

I had heard that he was a womanizer and a seducer who had bedded almost every lady of his court out of anger that his wife of eleven years had delivered him with three daughters but was unable to bear him a son.

Bahaha, reminds me of King Henry.

“As do you,” I said, unable to stop myself from smiling at his behavior. He looked surprisingly shy in my presence.

____________________________________
Overall
I noticed you use "I said, she said, he said" frequently. Try varying that up a little, when two characters are speaking to each other use "she/he/I replied, answered" or other stronger words to indicate how the sentence is being said by the character. It gives the piece more emotion (that is how I feel about it anyway).
I think Rose's character need some more development, but it's still just the second chapter so I won't say anymore than that.
All in all, I loved this chapter. You have definitely captured my interest and I will go on to read your chapters with much enthusiasm.
Well I'm not sure what else I can say so I bid you farewell for now.
Wonderful work, keep writing!

~Pink

(P.S. hopefully this review helped a little.)

this is a great story, i'm not a huge fan of the royal life, so it surprises me that i enjoyed this. You are great at this. Th edits should be made, what other writers said. Do the edits and this book will be amazing! I hope that you keep on writing! Nike

Thanks, Nike!

I've completely revamped the story. Tell me what you think, guys

Hey there, *coco. Shubhi is terribly sorry for making you wait so long. But here I am, at last :

Knowing Lord Sébastian as well as I did, he would surely persuade my uncle to use the occasion in order to introduce me to as many eligible suitors that the Kingdom possessed.

I very well understand that the princess is from the middle ages, and the language was very formal, but here 'in order' just didn't do for me. Maybe you should just leave it without it.

It was crystal clear that he and the royal court considered me a thorn in their sight, a stain on their Kingdom, a reminder of my father’s legacy, and therefore wanted me out of the way as soon as possible.

I liked the structure and the construction of this sentence.

I envied their freedom, for they had wings to fly away whilst I had royal blood that forever kept me in chains.

I love this imagery. I can really feel how she feels. I know how the feeling can be by reading this.

It was here where my mother had died from the Great Plague, and where the memories of my childhood, filled with happiness and laughter resided.

However much I wished, however difficult my life would become here, I could not find it in my heart to leave this place.

You don't need a semi-colon.

As night began to draw near, I sat at my dressing table looking at my reflection in the mirror.

Staring back at me expressionlessly was a thin, pale skinned girl dressed in black, with sharp blue eyes and long crimson curls.

Wow! Wonderful description, only you ate that comma.

Usually, on an occasion such as this one I would take the time to choose a much grander outfit than the simple one I now had on.

grander? I don't think that's a word, is it? Try replacing it with some other word.

Her crimson-coloured curls hung loose on her neck, and her striking blue eyes, even in a painting, seemed to emanate kindness and warmth.

Hey, love this again!

On the other side of the locket was a portrait of my father in his later years, with streaks of gray in his hair, curly hair and beard which framed his otherwise kind and handsome face.

We were suddenly interrupted by the opening of my chamber doors.

The orange word just seems odd to me, and I really think it can be replaced by another word. Just maybe: We were suddenly interrupted when the door of my chamber flung open.hey, that's just a suggestion and I think you can definitely come up with something better than I have.

Standing in the doorway before us stood Aunt Vivienne, a tall, pale and severe-looking woman with cat-like green eyes and a prominent chin.

here it was so messed up. Once you have already told us that Aunt Vivienne was standing so why to use 'stood' again?

“Yes, we all are...” her cat-like eyes searched my face as though hoping to notice a glimmer of jealousy but she found none.

Hey, such a sweet and well thought of.

She and her close gang of giggling ladies-in-waiting threw me smug glances upon seeing my entrance.

Well, it was again a bit oddly phrased. It can be: She and her close gang of giggling ladies-in-waiting threw me smug glances upon seeing me enter.

Yet the sinister smile on the face of Lord Sébastian suddenly made me think twice....

Well, definitely this was a good read and I really like the way you write. The description wasn't a clump which is a very difficult thing to avoid and many writers either go too much with description or completely ignore it. A balance is must, so good job done *coco. I should really comment on the scenario you created for us. It was like I was there in the hall myself and witnessing everything right from her arrival, to the King Genevere's and the people all around there.

Other than your description I really liked the way you portray her feelings-this way the reader can put themselves in her shoes, which is what a reader wants. So, I really love the personal touch or a distinctive feature you give to every character of yours. Like, I really hate her aunt, a typical cruel one and the sister. Isabel's attitude clearly shows her jealousy towards Rosaline. Now I have one thing in my mind which I would like to say. Isabel and Rosaline are also two characters from Twilight Saga so people might think of them while reading this. You should change the name if you wish or just keep it like that. Bu that's what Lava told me once when I had the same problem.

The other thing that bugs me off time and again is that you say or write 'uncle Maurice's advisor, Lord Sebastian. we already know who really Lord Sebastian is so you don't need to bore the readers by telling it again. Once in a while it might be necessary if the character's appearance wasn't there once. So, I hope you don't repeat this mistake again.

I know that for us writing with the backdrop of Middle Ages would be a tough one as we don't use the complexed language they used. But I think in an attempt to get us the ancient feel you are over-exaggeration and at times you are using way too many words in formal way which are not grammatically correct.I have mentioned some above. Just tell me by PM if I confused you here.

Well, now I think the suspense or the real tragedy is on her way and I can seriously not wait to read the next chapter soon. Sorry it took me so long in posting this. I think as you have said you have made some drastic changes because what some reviewers said I cannot agree with the,. So it might be that you changed and listened to their advice.

So i don't have anything special to say except for the fact that you are a bit careless on commas. Just work on that and this would be prefect.

Keep Writing,
~Shubhi