Invisible

She woke up with tangled hair and a grubby face, disoriented until fragments of light reached out to her from the satin curtains near her bedside table, waking her up. Ringing the golden bell plastered to the wall, her maids rushed in with a luxurious breakfast that she ate on a silver tray, body still under the warm covers. Her appetite had faltered lately, but today she managed to eat every last drop of syrup that oozed off the buttered pancakes like a golden waterfall. She rationed the single glass of cold water like it was the holy grail, savouring each refreshing lick.

A dress form stood tall on the other side of the room, clothed in a magnificent white wedding gown with juliet sleeves and a lacy skirt that flowed towards the royal- blue carpeted floors. It had belonged to her mother, the beautiful deceased queen, so it was her duty to marry in it too. Her breath was a shaky leaf being carried by the wind.

Servants gathered her dark hair, brushing out the tangles until it was as silky as her satin curtains, long and shiny like the reflection off of silverware. They then twisted it into a crown, braiding red and white lilies into every crevasse. Scarlet struck her lips, the taste of strawberry sunken into her memory like a book you couldn’t put down until you finished it. As two handmaidens ushered her downstairs, her heart began to beat faster. A thump. A push. A smack. A slap.

Stop hurting me, heart, she thought as she lifted her gown upwards to walk down the elegant golden staircase that winded down into the ballroom in a mesmerizing spiral. Each step she took was with caution– to stop herself from falling in her heeled shoes, and to ensure that she appeared graceful. And perhaps because she didn’t want to ever reach the bottom, to step into a life with a man she didn’t even know.

But it was her duty. To ensure the safety of the kingdom. To bring a smile to her father’s sullen face. One smile. That was all she needed.

Then she stated what she’d practiced the night previous. “I, Katara Amaris, princess of Feirvia, pledge my heart to this merging of kingdoms.”

Her foot grazed the last step, and she looked up into the eyes of her family, and her fiance’s. She shed a small wave to her father, but he didn’t look back, fingers locked around his wine glass that brimmed with liquid blood. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it shattered into a million pieces from the pressure, shards and fragments of their broken life spilling onto the crowd, innocent blood shed, crimson tears. Would that stop the wedding? She laughed at herself for even thinking that.

“I, Katara Amaris, princess of Feirvia, pledge my heart to this merging of kingdoms.” She repeated, looking up at her soon-to-be husband’s hazel eyes and red locks. He didn’t peer back, standing still like a statue, gazing everywhere and anywhere but at her.

Moments after, he bent over, whispering to one of the servants behind them who held the velvet ring pillow in her hands so tightly, like if she let go, just a little bit, the world would come crashing down.

“When is Katara coming?” He asked.

Her dark eyebrows scrunched together. “I’m right here, Lyam.”

The servant shrugged. “No one’s seen her all morning, Sir. We are looking.”

Was this some sort of practical joke? Maids had just been in her room, people had seen her! She was standing right here! Was this a dream? She reached out to pinch herself, grimacing at the self-initiated pain. An illusion? She took off her glasses and then propped them over her nose again, the same crowded room appearing. A hallucination? Katara Amaris never hallucinated. She was a princess. She was free of demons.

Walking over to where her father stood, she waved her hand over his eyes. No movement. She pressed her stubby hand to his stubbled cheek and laced it through his golden hair. It burned a little, like they were strings strung from the sun's rays.

Not a flinch.

“Father?” She whispered. “Where are you?”

She stood there, fingers lingering on his reddened cheek, tears clouding her face. She didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t want to lose him like she’d lost her mother seven years previous. An image of her kneeling, hands crossed in prayer, flashed through her mind, her mother’s face washed out with a sickening green tone, her eyes fogged with some sort of shield. She’d prayed all night for her mother to live, but the fog had fizzled into something horrific, leaving them both breathless on the floor.

Her father’s eyes looked similar to this, now. Like he was here, but he wasn’t here. It was the same for every other face in the ballroom, even the happy children in little pink dresses or little white suits who had not yet felt the burn or the stab of life in this kingdom.

The ballroom’s smooth marble floors acted as an ice rink as she ran across them, her feet slipping backwards, but with a strong enough grip to keep her upright. A smile flashed across her face briefly, her wedding dress but a single handcuff holding her back. For once, she felt free.

No one said a word about her improper behaviour, no one scolded her and told her to be ladylike. And that’s when she knew for sure.

Katara was invisible.