Throne of stolen stars

Prologue

In Ballar, the days seemed to stretch longer than the nights, especially when you had to do what everyone expected you to do.

Etiquette class in the morning, Political thought at noon, a different art class every year in the afternoon, languages at night, and if you thought that at some point an heir to the throne could rest... on the seventh star day of the week, when most of the inhabitants of Ballard do whatever one is supposed to do when not working or studying... I was in defense and military strategy class.

I never chose the life I was born into, and yet, I can't complain either. I am aware that I have more privileges than anyone else, and it will be so for the centuries I have to live and reign. And no, I don't detest it either. In fact, I am passionate about resolving conflicts between the realms of Eld, negotiations, and politics. But sometimes, I wish I could escape my responsibilities.

And that's why midnight is my favorite time of the day, when I can forget about modesty, etiquette, and rectitude, when I can forget that in a few months, I will marry to be crowned the following year.

Tonight, the overwhelming silence at the luminous lake next to the palace makes the view even more beautiful, where the gentle ripples on the calm lake reflect a distorted vision of the tall trees with shining canopies that surround it.

"I see you're more dressed up than usual," whispered Icaris in my ear as he approached from behind and embraced my waist.

"A little more fun for you, don't you think?"

"How considerate," he smiled approvingly, leaning in to kiss me.

"I always think of my people."

"Wow," he laughed. "And today I'm a subject? I thought you came to worship me."

"Worshiping is not becoming of princesses."

"Then I'm grateful not to be one, which reminds me, as a tribute to my adoration for you, Your Majesty..." he replied sarcastically, reaching into his pocket. "I brought this for you."

He pulled out a golden chain with a crimson thorn pendant from his pants and approached me, circling around to my front and placing it around my neck. The crimson thorn was located on the border of Ballard and Erast, and its extraction was almost impossible, as it meant venturing into no man's land with no guarantee of survival.

"If you know that romance can be saved for when the court spies on our courtship, right? Nights like tonight are for getting straight to the point."

"I know," he whispered in my ear, his deep voice making my heart race. "But today, I went on a campaign to the border... and I managed to get this for you... in Eree, the village a few kilometers from no man's land. They say the red tip of the thorn is due to the blood shed by two lovers who tried to cross the thorn forest to be together, leading to their demise..."

"How tragic," I turned to look into his eyes.

"Not really. Their lamentable sacrifice is supposed to grant lovers who possess their thorns the complicity and mutual belonging even on the darkest nights, so they can make the most of every minute as if they were about to take their last breaths... I thought it could be a symbol of the vestige of our passion before we get married..."

Icaris and I have been promised to each other since before we were born. He is the son of the general in charge of Eree, the kingdom of snow, while I, of course, am the princess of Ballar... a very convenient union for two realms where political tensions are part of the morning menu. From as far back as I can remember, I was raised to please him, taught how to dress, what to say in his presence, and I was sure he was also taught the same, as our courtship encounters, in addition to being supervised by the court, were filled with formalities and absurd puritanical conversations, discussing literature and art... but since we turned 15, our complicity and attraction grew beyond a courtship by obligation to generate a political alliance. We began to escape to the limits of the Ballar palace to realize our desires in the cabin by the luminous lake.

Every morning in the palace, Icaris would gently slide his hand into mine, preserving modesty, while every night he would slide his fingers down my bare back, freeing ourselves from the hypocrisy that bound us within the walls of our home.

Even when we get married, the nights will still be ours. In the palace, we are the apprentice soldier and the apprentice to the crown, but ever since we started sneaking away to the cabin, we are simply Icaris and Ellen... we can be ourselves without labels, talk until dawn, laugh loudly, and, above all, enjoy each other's company... that's how our love and complicity were born because the courtship afternoons were nothing more than a facade for our true romantic encounter.

He gently brushed my pointed ear with his fingers, adjusting my hair. "My sweet star, tomorrow I'll return to Eree. My father wants to prepare me before the wedding. I'll be back in a few weeks when you're ready for the official commitment, so tonight is our last night without masks or crowds."

"Then I don't see any time to waste," I whispered against his lips, as my fingers began to play with the buttons on his shirt, and the overwhelming silence of the lake was filled with the breath of two hearts synchronizing in passion.