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GLITTERING JEWELS FELL down her pale skin like a glistening waterfall, a beautiful mosaic of red polished stone and precious white pearl had been draped across her arms delicately, and the sparkling jewels seemed to almost mock the nerves that riddled her body as the servants dressed her. They moved around her in quick fluid movements, decorating her soft skin in blood-red satin and combing through the dark tresses of hair that framed her delicate features.

The time had finally arrived.

The day she had been waiting for years had come upon them, a day that marked the calendars of written history with a delicate stroke of artistry. The same mark that had been placed over a hundred and fifty years before her, when another stood in her very spot and kneeled before the high priests of the realm as the weight of a jewel-encrusted crown was placed gently over their head. She wondered if the one before her felt just as nervous as herself, just as scared and afraid she'd disappoint the very people who guided her towards her destined path with a gentle hand.

"This color suits you beautifully, your highness." One servant praised kindly, gently encircling golden ringlets into a small braided lock of hair that fell just behind her ear.

"You're a vision of the gods." Another added humbly with kind blue eyes, smiling softly as she applied aromatic oils to her supple skin.

They fell silent as the large carved doors of her room creaked open followed by the soft pats of delicate footsteps that she knew all too well.

"Oh my, look at you, you're as special as the moon itself," Her mother's sweet voice carried across the vast room, words meant to help but they did nothing to ease her pounding heart. The servants around her glanced towards one another nervously, similar pairs of light blue eyes trained on the older woman she called Mother who made her way towards them—she knew what they were thinking but held her tongue from saying a word.

She turned to her mother who walked through the doors of her room, a once strong woman now riddled with sickness and made of frail bones. The countless layers of soft yellow satin and precious jewels did nothing to hide the hollowness of her mother's cheeks and the sharpness of her shoulders. But the emptiness in her mother's eyes told her everything she needed to know.

There was no turning back, it was time.

She would be crowned as queen before the three suns set under the horizon, the official Queen of the planet Eros, and the next saintess in line to serve her humble people.

Although every waking moment of her life she had been spent dedicated to this very day she still felt as unprepared and nervous as she felt the first day her trembling hands mended the wounds of an injured warrior. The day her prophecy had been realized she was dubbed as the next monarch under the suns of planet Eros, and as a direct descendant of The Heavenly Saintess Aloea, who is said to be the first daughter of the heavily worshipped goddess Hestia.

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