The sun is just hardly setting when we make it to the penthouse my grandfather arranged for me in downtown Atlanta. " Your highness?" I'm practically gawking out my window hardly hearing Alexei, "Yes Alexei, oh we're home already? Sorry." he looks at me with hesitation and cocks his head to the side as if studying something he just can't quite seem to figure out. "Your highness" I squint and my face turns sour "Alexei you know you don't have to call me that, this isn't Croatia darling, this is America."
I get out of the car and thank Alexei as my guards flank me from both sides as we enter the building. My penthouse is on the 20th floor of the Grand Esquire Hotel in Atlanta. The elevator ride up is quite dreadful, the guards don't make much talk, I mean they are trained to be that way. To guard, protect, and remain silent unless spoken too.
I falter into the luxurious penthouse, The feeling of silence and loneliness instantly envelop my body. I'm already tired after staying in the library late after school to work on a project. My maid and butler have already gone to their quarters, leaving a note by the food.
I recall my day. I had honestly thought life was going to be so fun, it's America after all?
But ever since I landed here two weeks ago - I've done nothing, made no friends, doing nothing exciting .. my life is even more black and grey than I thought it was in Croatia. I came here to find that one thing I have been yearning for, practically craving, and I haven't found it yet.
I silently take my food and head to my room. It's currently night now as I look out the view of downtown Atlanta - and it's breathtaking. I stare out at the twinkling lights and busy nightlife; envious.
How can I be so envious? Everyone down there must be having the time of their lives. Partying, eating out, clubbing, and here I am, in this big room, having these quiet thoughts to myself.
One year Grandfather said I have one year to stay here, I have more freedom, it is what I wanted after all, but now freedom can only do so much for a person. I wonder how my siblings are doing back home, I wonder if they decided to stay with father in Spain, or mother in Croatia. Either one is hell; with my father barely ever being there for us, always off on some business to who knows where, and then with my condescending mother in Croatia. Maybe they went off on their own - I mean we all are 17, perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves. Louis is probably in Paris, where he prefers to stay, and Ivanna in Spain, probably clubbing in Ibiza with her hound of friends.
My siblings and I are an odd bunch despite us being triplets, rumors still spread to this day about my mother cheating on my father. Ridiculous, if you ask me. The press will always say the most random of things to earn money, without the consideration of others. I remember when we were little, the kids at school would make fun of us for all looking different. They would never do it directly. They always thought we never heard them - but we did. Louis and Ivanna would come and cry about what they said every night.
Louis resembles my mother with his alabaster skin, blond - almost white hair - and deep blue eyes, bright pink lips, and deep cheekbones. He only got one thing from my father, and that was his nose. Ivanna is a deep brown tan like my father, inheriting his raven-haired curls, which he inherited from his African mother. She has his bright green eyes and plump lips, barely a trace of my mother.
Then there is me; the perfect mix. as the media likes to call it. Between my parents, with my mother's nose, my father's lips. I have Thick wavy honey brown hair and slightly tanned skin. It's my eyes that stand out to me, something I didn't get from either of my parents - in technicality, but from my grandfather, his hazel eyes. The eyes my mother has hated ever since she lost her title.
There are also my two younger siblings. I have two more siblings, my younger brother, and sister. They're off with my mom, poor things I miss them. I hope they are doing their studies. I left my cousin to watch over them knowing my mother wouldn't be of much use.
My mother is one of those people who have kids - but don't know how to parent. I never understood why she kept popping them out when she never even really took care of us. When we were little we looked to our own servants as a family and parental figures rather than our own absentee parents.
My younger siblings aren't royal like Ivanna Louis and me. They are my stepfather's children. Despite my stepfather being 27 and my mother 37, he honestly loves and adores her, I don't know how - but he does. I truly think he deserves better than my mother but it's not my relationship who am I to judge?
He's a good father too, and I envy my younger siblings for it. He makes time for them, makes plans with them, he is always there for them, and it makes me mad since our father never gives us the time of day anymore. He used to be good, there were times when we were young during late nights in the palace when we couldn't sleep, he would put us on his feet as we danced with him one at a time squealing with children's laughter and joy.
A tear falls into my sheets, I try to stop them but I can't. I just cry, tears I've been holding back. I put on music so Rafael and Lucia don't hear me, they worry about me too much anyway.
How can I have so much but feel like this? I have everything at my tips, I'm the princess of Croatia? Is that all I am meant to be? I wish I wasn't at times. There are days I wish I would disappear and nobody would remember me, is it so wrong to want that?
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