Maxon's Secret Sister

Part 1

  When we got the letter from New Asia, my father was ecstatic. 

Meanwhile, I fled to my room upstairs and considered never coming out. It was official, I suppose. I know I brought it upon myself, arguing with him last week. But he would've gone through with it anyways. 

It was the letter that sealed my fate. I knew it was coming. I don't know what I'd expected, every girl my age had already been sent away by now. 

I was the princess of Illea. Not genetically, but if the palace is all I can remember, what else in my past is worth mentioning? In truth, I don't know who my real parents are, just that my Mom was afraid of a miscarriage and the country needed an heir. 

I was a girl, though, which was unfortunate. Once Mother had given birth to Maxon, my existence was no longer needed. Males were better suited to lead a kingdom and carry on the family name. 

Of course, this all happened when I was a baby, so these stories I've been told. Sometimes I wonder if I should be angry. Angry that Maxon had taken my place. But Maxon is hard to hate. 

We're the same age, Maxon and me. Well, almost. I'd been born in November and he in December. A one-month difference didn't much matter to me. 

I should be angry, come to think of it. Angry that I had been replaced. Angry that I would never appear on the Report like my brother did every Friday. Angry that even though I lived like a princess, no one in Illea knew my name. 

Audra. The girl no one knew. The girl that could've been a princess, but instead is being sold away to make connections with New Asia. That should please my father. 

I'm still in my room as I think of my father, examining my nails in the process. My maids, Lily, Anna, and Junie are a blessing when they come into my room to get me ready for bed that night. They knew that the letter had arrived.

.    .    .

In the morning I wake to Junie pulling back the curtains. They dress me up in a deep purple dress, and my blond hair shines under the light when I step into the dining hall for breakfast.

 For a moment I stand there. My mother and father are double-checking my expression, making sure I'm not angry at them. But I am angry. And my face displays this when I take my seat beside mother. 

"Audra, dear," I think mother is trying to ignore my anger. "How was your sleep?" Her expression is hopeful.

"Fine," I say, shoving a piece of pineapple in my mouth. She smiles at me, but turns to father and makes wide alarmed eyes, as if to say, watch out. He gives her a brief nod and looks at me. 

"Audra, I'd like to discuss the letter from yesterday. I'm assuming you know what that meant?" My father is business-like. Straight to the point. Unable to answer with a pained heart, I give a nod in his general direction. 

"Good," he says, delighted. For some reason he seems to have missed my foul mood altogether. "Meet me in my office after the Report." 

It was Friday