A Short Story: The Story Of Marlisa

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“Cecelia, come here.” Cecelia heard her father call from the main room. She sighed and started making her way slowly down the stairs, making her father wait for her presence purposefully. “Don’t you have the decency to at least put on proper clothing? Those are men’s clothes.” “That’s sausage to me, Father. You know I refuse to wear dresses, especially ones made by workers who you don’t pay.” She replied snarkily, staring her father in the eyes. “We’ve made a deal. You are to be married.” He said and Cecelia’s slight smirk fell off her face. “I don’t want to be married, I’m barely old and have no interest in marrying a man I’ve never met.” She said and her father put a hand over his face. “Cecelia, maybe you could-” Marlisa, Cecelia’s step-mother started, but Cecelia cut her off. “You are not my mother, and don’t get to tell me what to do.” Cecelia said. “Just because we share the same last name, does not mean we are the same in any way.” “You are meeting the Albrights tomorrow. Prepare yourself and dress properly.” her father said and motioned for Cecelia to go away. She turned on her heel and walked off, trying to get far away from her father as quick as possible. She rushed out of the castle, and made her way into the town. “Princess Cecelia, care to buy some rice? Even though you probably have enough to feed the whole village.” Henrik, one of the shop owners said, making Cecelia smile. “Henrik, you know not to call me ‘princess’. And yes, I’d love to buy some rice.” She

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