The Sovereigns

1.

There were so many interesting ways to kill herself that Diana Merrill didn't know how to choose.

Jumping, so far, was her favorite. It would be easy, since there were hundreds of terraces in the Western Versailles Palace, and she assumed painless if she jumped high enough. She couldn't guarantee that, though, which is why she'd been slightly partial to sleeping pills. Take a few, lull into a permanent slumber. Still, Diana worried that before she died, regret would punch her stomach and jolt her to a different kind of suffering as she felt her life fade. She hardly wanted to spend her last moments wishing to be alive. Jumping, in comparison, was a much faster fix. Any regret that surfaced would be crushed like her body on the palace grounds. Besides, she'd always wondered what it was like to fly.

Lady Dauphin Diana Merrill, heir-apparent and first-in-line to the Sovereign Kingdom of Gallia, leaned on the platinum railing of her terrace. The cold sent shivers down her spine. It was morning, the only time of the heir-apparent's day when she enjoyed complete freedom. She usually spent it looking at the gardens on her terrace, staring, wondering if she would be selfish enough to take the final leap.

That morning, she was not.

Diana exited her terrace, hugging the silk robe closer to her figure. She only had a few more minutes until her privacy was interrupted. Curiosity bit at her mind as heavy dread pressed against her chest. Would her plan work? Diana had been prepping for this day longer than she could remember, and finally, it was here. Could she pull it off?

There was a knock and Diana snapped back to attention. She opened her mouth to speak, but the young girl outside the door did not wait for Diana's response. She never did.

"Diana!"

Diana turned, meeting the bright brown eyes of her young sister bounding towards her. "Edeline," she breathed, nearly being shoved back as her sister bombarded her with a hug. She laughed. "Good mornings."

"Good mornings!"

She maneuvered out of the hug. Edeline was the reason, the only reason, Diana hadn't ended her life. She had to protect her sister above all, even her happiness.

The door continued to open and servants entered, carrying the breakfast meal. Her eyes glazed over to the servants. Naturally, they were glorious, perfectly feminine with pointed features, dark skin, and bony limbs. They wore the bare navy color, the lowly, nationalist color of Sovereign culture.

Before she could bite down the emotion, jealousy struck through her. In comparison to the servant's physical perfections, Diana was less pretty. Instead of brown, Diana had pale blue eyes and kept her hair short. Thankfully, or else shame would have come to her father for producing such an ugly heir, she had sharp cheekbones and a steely gaze.

One of the servants spared a glance at Diana. Diana's eyes widened. Is it all ready?

The servant nodded. The plan is fully prepared.

Diana willed herself not to respond to the acknowledgment, instead rotating to her sister who was galloping onto the terrace. Edeline, Diana's only and favorite sibling, was fifteen. She was old enough to talk, but not old enough to know what her words meant; she was old enough to fight with gossip and make enemies, but not old enough to face the consequences.

Her dress swung in the wind. "Isn't the morning breathtaking?" Edeline asked. The servants finished placing the buffet of food in her room and cemented themselves to the wall.

Edeline skipped back, closing the terrace doors behind her. Diana gestured to the food. "I suppose. Are you hungry?"

"Famished, of course. Now what are you wearing for the unveiling party?"