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aribraganca · 5 years

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&&. announcing her royal highness, ( ariel celine di savoia de bragança ), the ( 25 ) year old ( princess ) of ( portugal ). she is often confused with ( emma mackey ). some say that she is ( decadent & spoilt ), but she is actually ( warm & contemplative ). ( ariel ) is arranged to marry ( any male fc ). ( OOC: rae )

i made one (1) page in preparation, here it is. other than that, hit read more. please like or comment if you wanna plot!!

BIO

there’s not too many things to complain about when you’re beautiful, loved, and filthy rich. her family is as tight-knit as can be, and ariel is so damn spoilt that she could hardly do anything for herself until university, which was the best rude awakening a girl could ask for. she went to rome for university to study comparative literature and art history.

unlike what her parents predicted, she loved living on her own, loved the lived-in sort of mess that made a place a home. ariel kept pots of flowers on every available surface, next to them, stacks and stacks of books with scribbles all over the margins. she picked up painting ( after she dated a pretentious sculptor that she fell head over heels for ) and soon her flat was filled with half-coloured canvases. she owns a french press and makes coffee every morning while she smokes on her veranda, and god, she thinks she could live like this forever.

but she graduated, and she cried at the thought of leaving her comfortable little bubble -- it’s time for her to rejoin her world. to wash the acrylic paint off her fingers and have someone else make her coffee instead. but she was spoilt, and with one adorable whining tantrum and a decisive pout of her lips, her parents agreed that she could travel before settling into being a full-time princess.

so she took off to the capitals of the world. ariel stayed at the plaza in new york, soaking up the culture and going to more broadway plays that would last her a lifetime. she rented out a small flat in london’s core, watching big ben chime from her window as she went to art shows and poetry readings. paris, moscow, seoul, reykjavik, hong kong, and many, many more -- she collected postcards and sent each of her siblings colourful descriptions of her days.

but it all came to a shrieking halt. ariel was in madrid for a friend’s book launch, and the last thing she remembered from that evening was hailing a cab just outside the gallery where the event was held. the next thing she knew, she was laying on a bed that wasn’t her own, in a room she didn’t recognise. it was then did the nightmare began.

considering everything, they had kept her well-fed and comfortable. of course, she was kept against her will by strange men who scarcely spoke a word to her in a place she did not know. but they supplied her with decent food, and even a stack of paper and a pen for her to pass the time. the windows were boarded up, but she could sometimes see sunlight streaming through -- oh how she had yearned to feel the warmth on her face once more.

two weeks later she was released. blindfolded and bound before pushed into a car to an unknown location. when she opened her eyes, she saw the familiar face of the head of her father’s security; and she finally broke down in shuddering sobs. they took her on a plane and gently told her that she was in spain, that it was a few wayward spanish nobles that had kept her under lock and key. her heart broke, and she cried some more -- far too many questions in her mind.

she was enveloped in her mother’s arms as soon as the plane touched her homeland, and her tears mixed in with the queen’s, hurt and relief leaving her shoulders at last. ariel knew nothing but comfort and pampering in her first few months back in portugal, shielded from the issues of the world as she curled up alone in her bed, awake at all hours of the night as her room in spain swam into her mind every time she closed her eyes. ariel cried too much, jumped too often at sudden sounds, it broke her parents hearts.

but soon after, the monarchs of the world were shipped off to remote locations for their protection, war at their front steps. ariel shook and shuddered, not ready to leave the comforts of her home -- one that she just started to become comfortable in again -- and her parents felt the same. instead of sending her off with her siblings, ariel was sent to the countryside safe house surrounded by a slew of bodyguards and a full team of household staff. she’d like to keep a full house of familiar faces, and being without her siblings was hard, her nights spent facetiming barbie or biel, hiding her tears and curling up under the covers after the dial tone faded away.

so she spent her days reading and gardening, slowly becoming herself as she sent her maids for acrylic paints and different sized canvases. her live-in psychiatrist keeping a close watch as slowly, the light began to seep back into her eyes. her mother would visit for an extended period of time, holding her hand as she explained the latest patch of flowers in the gardens.

slowly, her family sent her to her cousins in italy, a little way of easing her back into the way of things, back to their norm -- slowly, she began to open her suitcase after months of disuse.

but that was then, and this is now. it’s been over two years since the incident, and the king and queen had finally decided that it’s time for their youngest daughter to perform her duties. with barbara’s blooming family and gabriel’s marriage, ariel was next, and there’s no stopping the constant burden of time.

#hshqintro

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