– And now, what will I do?
– You will do what you were born to do, Ashen. You will reign over Bôrn, and you will not change who you are, because you already are the one that Bôrn needs.
– But, to reign, it is... It is not what I wished for, my King, I-...
– Enough, my dear child. Here comes the end of the path, can you see it?
All that his daughter could ever have seen was scrambled by her tears, which rolled along her porcelain white cheeks, until they would crash onto the ground, one after the other, in a clatter almost mute and yet so powerful. Knelt at the bedside of an Elf who had been such a great man but was now an old man broken by time and illness, Ashen was crying out every single tears of her body, in silent sobs which was raising her chest by jerks but were not letting any sounds out of her throat. The man raised a hand as wrinkled as trembling towards the ceiling, in a movement weak yet full of hope, that she fixed with attention.
– Here, can you see it? The brambles are opening up, look! The path is there, right there... My time has come, Ashen.
– No, Father, not yet... Not yet, no...
– My time has come. There She is, Lômen Gaîla, there She is... Do not rejoin me there too soon, my beloved daughter, can you do that for me? Do that for me, Ashen. Do that...
His hand fell back onto the silk fabric: Keshen Behôrn, King of Bôrn, was not anymore. On the twenty-fourth day of the month of Hiems, in the year seven thousand thirty-nine, he left behind his only daughter, Ashen Behôrn, legitimate heiress of the Kingdom of Bôrn, marking by so her ascending to the throne as the Queen. And this day, it was raining.
YOU ARE READING
The Heiress
FantastikKingdom of Bôrn, Year 739. After the death of Keshen Behôrn, her father, Ashen ascends to the throne as Bôrn's Queen. She who was just a young, carefree princess, has now became an aggrieved Queen who needs to put her sadness aside to rule her kingd...
