Chapter 1 : The Third Princess (1)
Esme Carlton.
That was her name.
The bastard child of the king—his third child and daughter.
Esme was the one he could not behold.
The shame of King Norbert Carlton—the king of Enorth.
Unlike her siblings, she had an indelible mark on her name that can never be erased no matter what she did.
Esme Carlton was a bastard—an illegitimate child born from an affair that should have never happened.
Her mother was Cecilia Lumberwood—a former hand at the royal palace, who at some point, came under direct service to King Norbert.
Cecilia was a quiet, graceful woman, beautiful with long, silky white hair that was an envy to behold despite her status as a commoner.
King Norbert, smitten by the beauty of this commoner, fell for her, damning the consequences of his feelings.
Their affair, however, had not gone unnoticed.
With the queen discovering this betrayal from a man she loved, she had Cecilia expelled from her royal palace duties without a second thought.
How could she tolerate such in a marriage?
Worse off, a commoner stealing the affections of her husband.
With Cecilia going back to her normal life, life continued.
However, that lasted until when she discovered that she was pregnant for the king just some weeks later.
Naturally, all hell broke loose!
Not wanting any trouble nor to pick a fight she couldn't win, Cecilia opted to raise her child on her way, away from the palace's eyes.
So she did.
Far from the palace, the former maid raised her daughter alone.
The mother and daughter lived in a modest cottage at the edge of the kingdom without any troubles.
The beauty of this to Cecilia was that they lived far from the reach of nobles and gossip, and all the drama that came as a consequence of her intimacy with King Norbert Carlton.
The Lumberwood's lives were simple, quiet, and poor—but it was also filled with warmth.
Esme never felt unloved and Cecilia made sure of that.
Her mother's lullabies, her soft hands braiding Esme's hair, the little meals they shared together—those were the treasures of little Esme's childhood.
But that peaceful life shattered when her mother fell sick to an injury.
The Lumberwoods were very poor, so much that Cecilia could not afford even the basic care for her wound and this escalated to become something that couldn't be treated anymore.
Intermittently, she would have fever that would not relieve easily and she was getting weaker and weaker as the sickness slowly ate away her life.
Esme was still a little girl at that time, unable to do anything to help her mother. Too young to understand the weight of sickness, yet old enough to sense fear in her mother's failing voice.
Her days, once filled with laughter and songs, were now spent by a bedside, clutching her mother's weakening hand and begging her not to leave.
Cecilia stayed stronger—at least, she tried to but her body continued to fail her with each passing day.
Until one day…
Cecilia had gotten a whiff of the news that King Norbert was coming to visit the people.
She had no choice.
This was her last chance to secure Esme's future.
If she failed—no, Cecilia did not want to think about that.
She couldn't afford to fail.
She can't!
Heavens showed her mercy and she succeeded.
Now, the king and father of her daughter was standing at the entrance of their humble home—tall, regal, and silent.
Esme had never met this man before.
She was scared, peering at him from behind her mother—who could barely hold her own weight—as her small fingers clutched Cecilia's long gown.
She gathered what little strength she had left to make just one last request. More appropriately put, a dying wish.
"Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice cracked and breathless, "Esme is also your daughter. I don't have much time left… Please, take care of her. I beg of you."
Esme remembered the way her mother cried, tears slipping down her pale cheeks, her once revered and envied beauty shrinking away.
She remembered her own sobs, clutching at the blankets, crying out, "Mother, no... Please don't leave me."
But the plea, however innocent and tender it was, could not change the mind of fate.
Her mother took her last breath that night, and with it, Esme's little world was turned upside down.
Fulfilling her mother's dying wish, the king brought the little girl back to the palace.
He had taken Esme not as his true daughter—but as an adopted child.
A bastard that she was—born out of wedlock.
From the moment she entered the royal walls, Esme felt like an outsider.
The palace was vast and beautiful, with golden designs, painted ceilings, and endless halls—but Esme was a shadow among shining lights.
She was soon introduced to her new family.
Olivet, the eldest princess, was two years older than her.
Princess Olivet, despite being young, carried herself with pride and an icy smile.
Princess Ivy, the second daughter, was the same age as Esme, but no less cruel compared to her elderly sister.
Then there was the little Prince Franklin, Alicia's younger half-brother, who was three years younger than her.
Unlike the others, Franklin was a sweet, innocent soul.
He often held her hand, brought her sweets from the kitchen, and played with her in secret.
But aside from Franklin and the queen dowager, Esme found no kindness within the palace.
Her sisters mocked her—calling her names, laughing behind her back, and sometimes even to her face.
It was clear that Esme was starting to pay for the sin of her mother.
The queen ignored her existence entirely, except when she made Esme's life harder with sharp words and dismissive glances.
King Norbert, her father, remained indifferent.
He had fulfilled a promise to a dying woman, but nothing more.
He did not treat her cruelly, nor did he treat her kindly.
To him, Esme was no different from a mere, fleeting presence.
The queen's mother, Penelope, was the one other person who showed her any warmth.
Lady Penelope loved Esme's mother, Cecilia, like her own daughter.
Now, she had transferred that love to Esme, seeing her not as a stain on the royal family, but as a child who deserved love.
Though not related by blood, he became a grandmother figure to her, offering her quiet moments of comfort and protection whenever he could.
Years passed.
Several long years of isolation, bullying, and silence.
Esme lived quietly in her shell without complaining, wearing hand-me-down gowns that were faded and out of style and yet thankful for them.
She was not allowed to attend any gatherings—royal banquets, balls, or even stroll through the garden—when noble guests were present.
Few in the kingdom even knew a third princess existed.
It was as though she was merely existing in the kingdom.
But everything was soon about to change and even Esme did not know this.
By royal tradition of Enorth, a daughter of the house of Carlton was to be formally introduced to society at the age of sixteen.
It was a grand event.
A ball would be held, attended by nobles, dukes, and foreign royalty.
It was a coming-of-age celebration, and an opportunity to be seen as a potential bride for powerful houses.
When the time came, the queen insisted Esme be excluded.
The king didn't object—until the good old Lady Penelope intervened.
She fought bitterly with her own daughter and son-in-law.
"She is a royal daughter!" Lady Penelope had argued with the king and queen, slamming her hand on the council table.
"This ball is also her right as much as it is Ivy's a few months ago! As much as it was Olivet's two years ago!"
Eventually, the king relented.
And so, preparations began.
Esme, for the first time in her life, was treated like a true princess after this altercation.
On the night of the ball, she stood before a mirror in a chamber she'd never set foot in before.
Maids fluttered around her, adjusting the sleeves of a purple gown that was very beautifully designed.
Her blue eyes gleamed under soft candlelight, her white hair was styled with delicate ornaments.
Blush colored her pale cheeks, and a soft gloss coated her lips.
Esme hardly recognized her own self.
The plain girl in faded dresses with unkempt hair was gone, at least for tonight.
In her place stood a young, beautiful lady—elegant, poised and breathtaking.
A knock came at the door, drawing Esme's attention away from her transformed self.
A maid entered and curtsied. "Your Highness, the guests have arrived. His Majesty requests your presence."
Esme smiled at her and nodded gently. "I'll be there shortly."
Once the maid left, the princess turned back to the mirror.
She stared at her reflection in silence, her heart thumping in her chest.
This was the first time in her life she would step into the light—not as a shadow, not as a mistake or someone's shame—but as a princess.
She took a deep breath, gathered her skirt, and walked toward the door.
Esme was finally going to be seen, not as a Lumberwood but a Carlton.
******
Author's Note : My first romance-themed novel on this platform. Draws heavy inspiration from books that I've read, both traditional and webnovels. Do bear with me for grammar errors as English is not my mother tongue. I hope your enjoy the novel as you read and find it worth support.
Thanks.
RB