Selma moved through the secret corridors, as swiftly and quietly as possible, hand in hand with the other women of the castle. Selma knew many of the maids in the castle on a more personal level than most princesses in the Empire. After all, Selma felt as though her own flesh and blood were never much of a family to begin with. She was closer to her brother than her parents and on occasion, her mother could be kind and gentle and she found that her father sometimes had a good sense of humor.
But on a personal level?
She wasn't as close to any of them as she wanted to be. But every time she felt herself getting close and making a connection, it was like a wall went up between her and them. She knew there was more than one reason for the disconnect between her and her family, but the main reason, she felt, lay within her.
Selma knew she was different compared to other young girls her age, but she knew a slight difference in personality wasn't enough to make her family pull away from her.
It was their goals that were different.
Her father, like many Kings in the Empire, lusted for power. Her mother sought to do everything in her power to support her husband and their children. And Darrin? Selma felt as though her brother simply listened to their father because he hadn't found that one thing that gives a person the determination to carve out their own path.
And yet, she understood her brother in a way. She often wondered if she didn't find comfort in the Goddess, and in the Starblessed, would she have had the courage to go against him all those years ago?
"Princess," the maid behind her whispered, her voice shaky. "Are we nearly there?"
"Nearly," Selma replied, squeezing her hand gently.
During her early days at the Academy, her father informed her that upon graduation, she was to marry the third Prince of Inaha — Prince Lance Bronson.
Selma knew him.
In fact, they went to school together.
That Lance was easygoing and got along well with others. He made an effort to court her, and she made an effort to go along with it.
But there was simply…nothing between them. Her father likely secured that match because he believed Prince Lance was good for her. And while all that might have been fine for someone else, for her, it was like a death sentence.
Selma naturally gravitated toward stories of the Starblessed, their history and how it melded with her own. She found pride in being connected to something bigger than her own dreadfully plain existence as the Princess of Forsyth. Learning that the royals she came from were more than women who married powerful men, or scholars who learned simply to help others gain power.
Once upon a time, the royals of Forsyth learned for the betterment of society. They learned to serve something larger than themselves.
And that knowledge alone gave meaning to her life and the courage to fight to be who she wanted to become. And so, to save herself from her father's whim, Selma joined the Church of the Followers of Starlight.
In Carbouran, the laws clearly stated that once a person of Carbouran — man or woman — pledged themselves to the Starfollowers, they could not be considered property of their family and were henceforth disbanded from all familial obligations. Her father tried his best to fight it, of course, but the law was clear.
For the first time in her life, Selma had the autonomy to live how she wanted.
But nothing is ever truly that simple.
"Princess?" The girl asked again, whispering.
"Yes?" Selma replied, looking back at her.
"Would it be too much trouble to talk while we walk?" She asked, bashfully. "I know it's likely inappropriate to converse at such a time but…the sounds through the walls are…"
"Of course," Selma smiled, relieved that her mind might have some reprieve from the monsters and the sound of her own footsteps. "What shall we discuss?"
The maid thought for a long moment and then said. "We've all been curious since it happened, but…what about the deal you made with his Highness?"
Selma stiffened instantly, a light smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. Of all the questions to be asked at such a time — she didn't expect that silly mistake to be such a topic among the maids.
"Yara!" The maid behind her exclaimed in a hushed voice, covering the maid's mouth with her hands. "I'm sorry your majesty. She doesn't have boundaries."
The maid, Yara, turned her face in protest. "Well, if I might die tonight, I want to learn something I've been yearning to know!" She turned her face back to Selma. "I just can't get it out of my head, Princess. The way you stood up to him that night you pledged yourself and became a Starfollower. But then you came back to the castle that Spring during your time off at the Academy. We were sure we'd never see you again."
Selma's shoulders relaxed.
"It's alright," she replied, continuing on. "It's not much of a secret, though."
Soon after her pledge, Selma found herself in a deal with her father — one she could not avoid.
"You all heard of how I stood up to my family by joining the Starfollowers," she began, "but it wasn't that simple, you see. I have no practical skillset. I had nothing to offer the Church in their endeavors but a secret history I cannot share. They allowed me to join at the age of fourteen but…only if I remained in Forsyth when I wasn't at the Academy."
A whisper-chatter of noises of sympathy fell over the maids. They understood what that meant for Selma — that she couldn't escape her father's grip that easily.
"After many long-winded arguments, I came to him with a proposal," she said, keeping her gaze focused ahead. "Upon my graduation, he would continue to support me and my endeavors, and I would show up and play the part of a Princess. And in return, I would find a royal match on my own terms. He accepted my proposal…"
Selma paused, her gaze falling heavy.
"But on the condition that I found my match before I turned twenty."
The maids shared whispers of concern.
"He said he didn't want to have to marry me off to some old man because I allowed myself to age out of the marriage market. That he didn't want that on his conscience," her hands clenched at her sides. "As if that's not the ugliest, most misogynistic reasoning I've ever heard come out of that man's mouth!"
Selma's eyes raised with fury as she stormed ahead.
"Two years from graduation!?" She scoffed. "That's all that bastard gave me to find a husband, and I only just graduated. I took the deal, of course, but that's beside the point!"
"Uh, Princess?" Yara whispered. "Your voice is…"
Selma blinked, snapping out of her rage. She turned back toward Yara and the other maids, "My voice-"
And then…
EEEEAAAAOOOWWW!
Selma's blood ran dry at the sound of the Darkspirit's cry, and before she could process what truly happened, her mind warped. All she heard before the world twisted was the sound of the lantern shattering on the stone floor.
Her and the other maids gripped their ears in pain, fighting back the effects of its screech.
Selma had forgotten her own rule.
Be silent.