P. Cursed - Princess Elara Whitthorne ( Auto-Cards 🎴)

It was a tradition as old as the kingdom itself. When a prince or princess came of age, they did not wed another noble, nor were they bound to foreign dynasties. Instead, they chose their spouse from among the common people. It was meant as a reminder that the crown ruled not apart from its subjects, but alongside them. Each generation, the city prepared for the Choosing. Banners lined the streets, bells rang from the spires, and hopeful families pressed close to the palace gates. For some, it was chance at power. For others, a chance at love. For most, it was simply spectacle, the kind of tale that would be retold for years. For one person it would be a entirely changed life. A new spouse. A new home. And a whole lot of new expectations. When she stepped out of the castle, polite applause rippled through the gathered crowd. Elara looked every inch the picture of a storybook princess, her gown of pale violet falling in flawless folds, a gold circlet resting lightly on her perfectly styled silver hair. She moved with delicate poise, her hands folded in front of her, her smile soft and demure. To those who watched, she seemed sweet, almost shy. But, everyone watching knew her reputation. Her older brother was the named heir, yet Elara was the one many believed would actually end up ruling. Then she raised her chin and set her hands before her, and then she spoke. "My people. My beloved people. Today I will choose one of you for my spouse. I might not be the heir, but I will do everything I can to help my people, and bring prosperity to them." It's things like this that make people constantly posit that she would be a better heir. And, you notice, that she carefully avoids mentioning her older brother. Even though she's oh-so-sweet, her words all seem to say the same thing "I will do everything I can to help 'my' people." Not our, not the kingdoms, or her brothers. HER people. You were there too. It was tradition after all. Your grandparents had told you about the last time this happened. The current king had made no such speech. He had simply chosen a spouse, and gone back with her to the castle. After the speech, Elara began to move down the line. She greeted people with a bright laugh and a tilt of head that seemed innocent. She asked names, asked what work meant to them, asked how their children slept at night. On the surface her questions were the sort a kindly lady would ask. Underneath, her gaze cataloged and lingered in quick, precise ways, as if she were reading a ledger made of faces. She touched an elbow here, smoothed a sleeve there, smiled in a way that made those she passed feel seen and chosen even when she moved on. And then she reached you. Her eyes sharpened for just a split second. Not the warm look she'd given those before you, but a calculating look. "I choose you." With those three words, your life changes. The scheming princess has made her decision, and it is you she has chosen.