I wake up and it already feels like it's going to be one of the worst days of my life. It's raining outside; the perfect weather for my husband to be disappointed in me again.

Today the seer will announce once more what I already know to be true. I rub my empty belly.

The gods must really want nothing more than my suffering. Otherwise, why would they resign me to such a fate?

What a mighty fall from grace. I was the envy of every maiden and the object of every mother's jealousy when King Shepherd chose me to be his bride.

But quickly I learned I would not get the fairytale I hoped. There would be no honeymoon. There would be no romance. Soon after, the kingdom demanded an heir, and it has been 5 years and he hasn't given me one.

Though chances of that would be higher would he bed me more often. I have come up with many theories over the years. One of them is that maybe I am not getting pregnant because I never enjoyed it. He just gets on top of me, and he just takes and takes.

I never expected a soul shattering experience, but I expected...something.

But the mothers will come here again today and accuse me of not being the one to fall pregnant again in the past 6 months. They will blame me for not being alluring enough for him when I tell them of the happenings of our privacy: that he won't touch me. Last time I thought that would work as an excuse, but I was told if he didn't find me repulsive, he would bed me more often and that it is my duty to be alluring to him, and that it was my failure that he didn't.

I had swallowed that sharp stone of course. They don't know why my husband doesn't want me. He prefers the comforts of his general instead. Shamus. The bane to my existence and the symbol of my personal failure as a woman.

Though I can never even speak of it, the shame would again fall to me.

'She was so repulsive; he chose another man over her.'

So, what do I do? I let him have his way with me whenever he can muster it and the rest of the time, I have to listen to Shamus right next door taking everything that is mine. Not that I think it's that difficult, I'm sure the king gives it to him willingly and very happily.

But it's a closely guarded secret. When the king started the affair four years ago, he dismissed all our immediate servants in the night so no one can hear anything. Nobody guards our chambers right outside.

They all stand at the extremities of the hallway and anyone who sees or hears anything knows they could never speak of it. For both my husband and his general are men more cruel than the kingdom has seen in centuries.

So, I am alone. Like I have always been.

Other people look at me and see my face and think I must have everything. But I have even less than the pauper in the street. At least the pauper has his freedoms. He can walk where he wants, he chooses which merchant to beg from and which river to drink from.

I have no such luxuries.

I am doused in opulence, and I have a name but none of those things are mine.

That name doesn't belong to me and whatever excess I enjoy is always dangling at the mercy of those who have my life.

I blow a breath. I will be embarrassed again today in front of the leaders when the seer shakes her head and announces I am not with child once more.

My father and stepmother will give me choice words about the shame I am bringing them, and my mother-in-law will refer me to another herbalist who is going to make me 'desirable' and beddable to my husband who doesn't even want me. And in all that, his accusation will be loudest, blaming me for it all.

"Queen Aria..." Hannah, my servant girl, calls from the other side of my chambers.

I have wondered to myself who's sin she is paying for that she be sentenced to such a job. Maybe her father was a thief, and his family was sentenced to serve the palace for all eternity.

Though who may know with my husband. The punishments never equal the crime. And even if they all hate him, they will never stand against him. He is too fearsome in battle, and he has no mercy. They all fear him.

"You are free, Hannah..." I call back to her knowing it's a little colder out there and it's a bit warm in my chambers.

The door opens lightly. She slips in, and with steps as light as a cat, she moves around. She places a tray of tea on my bedside table then she proceeds to go to my clothes cupboard, and she fishes out a warm robe for me.

I often wonder to myself if my hell is better than that of the servants. We are both prisoners to my husband. Where I am in a golden cage, they are in rusted, prickly cages and they are bruised often, and no one is even there to tend to them or even cares when they bruise. My bruises are tended by the best doctors, and if nothing else, my husband does care about the state of my health because a healthy queen represents a competent and strong king.

But it's all a cage and none of us have any hope to escape.

She waits with my robe, and I get out of the bed, and I step into the shoes already placed for me. I turn and I put my hands in the arms and she places it over my shoulders.

When I was a child, I used to think this would be everything. Not royalty, I could have never dreamed of being queen, but marriage; having a husband.

I thought I would marry a man who would wake me with tender kisses. I thought I would finally know what the older women used to talk about when they talked about the joys of waking up next to a man who desires you. I thought I would have to wade my husband from constantly getting me pregnant, but here I was: unloved and unattended.

I follow behind her as she leads me to the washroom adjoining my chambers. I seat on the chair I always sit on. After she turns on the water and drops a few herbs in the water, she comes to me, and she applies my face oil. She undoes my night braid, then she combs my coily hair out.

I step in the basin when she is finished covering the rest of my body with body butter that is supposedly what makes my skin supple and smooth.

Not that any of it matters. I'm sure even if I looked like an angel, Shepherd would never look at me a second time.

I shake my head internally thinking back to when I thought I could still win him over. I wore the best perfumes and I would sneak into his chambers. I was kicked out like a thief each time and I would eat my tears until I would forget, and I would try again.

But it finally all clicked four moons ago: he can never love me. I have accepted that. But I wish he would set me free.

"Queen..." Hannah's small voice pulls me out of my pitiful thoughts.

"Yes?"

"We are finished. The water is getting cold. You will catch a cold." She blushes and I smile at her kindness, even though I know she has no choice, it's her duty.

I have always wondered if any of them even see me. The person me. Aria. Not the unloved, sad, and 'devastatingly beautiful' queen of the Gango kingdom. But just me, the girl who wants to take walks barefoot in a sunny day and who wants to stop every time she sees a white flower. The girl who wants a friend to share all her secrets with. The one who wants to laugh until her stomach hurts.

I let her pull me out and she is ready once more with a towel and a robe. She pats my skin dry like she always does and proceeds to lather my body with all the best butters for my skin and oils for my hair. Then she helps me into my dress for the day.

A purple dress with a corset so tight I have to time myself every time I breathe, and I can't sit for long.

But it is what my husband and my mother-in-law expects. It is what they all expect of me. The pretty face. The girl with the 'face of an angel', so they say. A title I hate with all my being. I love myself but most times I wish others didn't see it to. Because once they see it, they see nothing else. It's all I remain. I am just a face.

I have no brain, I have no feelings, I have no opinions. I am just beautiful, and I should be happy with that.

I follow Hannah out as usual to the dining hall.

I find it prepared for three. I would groan if it was queen like. This means Shamus is joining us this morning. Though I should have expected it after the night they had. They both drank half the size of their weight yesterday after the execution of the bandits they have searched for for years.

Both of them are two sides of the same coin. They like the same things, they see the world the same and they agree on everything.

The opposite is true for me and my husband. We can hardly agree on the amount of food appropriate for a lady to eat or the appropriate number of books a lady should read and the subject matters of aforementioned books.

When he was courting me, he once found me reading a book on the various creatures found in our world and he burned it on the spot.

'A future queen has no use of such knowledge. Why don't you spent more time out of the sun, you will get sunburned then you won't be so pretty, lady Aria.' His actual words.

That was the first day I saw him for who he was but the excitement of being queen covered everything and with my stepmother in my ear, I saw nothing but birds singing our forever song for the rest of our lives.

I breathe in before I sit, and Hannah helps me get situated. I should have protested to this dress. I will probably have a headache by the end of the day. All at once, I wish someone would spill liquid on me so I can change.

But I guess I am not in luck as I hear the boisterous laughter of the bane of my existence.

"My King, if ifs and buts grew grapes, then we would all have vineyards." Shamus says and the king laughs loudly. Though they are the only ones. The atmosphere with all the servants changes instantly.

All of them stand a little straighter and their faces become a little less...alive. They all fear my husband and his general, and as well they should.

"Come on, Shamus. Do it for your king." My husband says and his tone is lower, I would mistake it to denote a layer of desire if I thought he was capable.

They come into view and Shamus's face falls when he sees me. It's like he didn't expect to find me here. He stops in his tracks and forces a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Queen Aria." He gives me the customary bow and I don't return any emotion.

"Shamus."

My husband looks between the both of us. I see the clear annoyance in his face. It's like he also didn't expect to find me here, or he wishes I would disappear. But I plant my bottom right where I am.

After they share a secret look, Shepherd says. "Alright, general Shamus, I expect that report by afternoon in my hand."

"Yes, my king." Then he looks my way. "Good tidings with the seer, queen. The kingdom could use the good news." Then his face twists in a cruel grin.

I look away and down at my empty plate as I clutch the heavy fabric of my dress in my hand, needing an outlet for all the rage I feel and trying my best not to cry.

He is gloating. Right in front of my eyes. Right in front of my husband. Right in front of the servants.

I am a joke. To all of them.

My husband joins me a moment later and the servants starts serving us.

Cutlery, plates, and feet shuffling are the only sounds live in this room.

Shepherd won't even spare me a glance. We eat in mostly silence. When we are having our after-breakfast tea, he finally speaks.

"Did you see that herbalist mother told you about last month?"

I turn to give him my full face. "Um, yes, husband."

"Are you ready for today?"

My lips part and this time I can't stop the tears. He gets blurry and I let my tears fall. Out of all the people, how could he ask me of that?

Last time he took me was 5 moons ago and he didn't even finish. He jumped out of bed, and he said he can't do this anymore. I had thought he meant just that night, but he hasn't touched me since.

I open my mouth to answer him, but nothing comes out. His face morphs from annoyance to anger in an instant. Like I am an offence in his presence.

"Why are you crying?" his hard voice fills the room, and I can just feel all the pity all the servants feel for me. It chokes me and makes the tears fall harder.

He speaks to me like a child. If it was not clear before then it is abundant now: this man hates me.

"I'm so—sorry."

"I asked you a question, Aria. Are you ready?"

"Ye—yes, my king." I know he will not accept any other answer.

I see him shake his head in my peripheral and I feel his hateful glare on the side of my face. "You are pathetic. I should have listened when they told me you were too weak to be by my side. Get her out of my sight."

Two servants including Hannah are next to me the next seconds and they help me up. He doesn't even look my way as I am escorted like a pauper from his presence.

They escort me back to my chambers where I stay until noon, the time of the ceremony.

I am in shambles.

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