Chapter One

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Thirteen Years Earlier

"There are many wonders in this world, Elouise, and I hope you are fortunate enough to discover plenty of your own."

Elouise paid little mind to her mother's words. She was far too focused on the blue butterfly fluttering from daisy to daisy to respond. When the insect finally settled upon one, Elouise plopped down on her stomach and rested her chin in her palm, admiring it. She heard her mother's soft laugh and glanced back at her.

"Get off the grass, Elouise," her mother scolded, though her smile betrayed her. "You are going to stain your white gown."

"They can make me a new one," Elouise absently said, returning her attention to the butterfly that was closing and opening its delicate wings. Temptation urged her to reach a finger forward and see if it would fly onto it.

"Oh, it's that simple, is it?" her mother asked. "Ruin a gown and a new one will be made." She then sighed. "But it is never that simple, Elouise, and I did not raise you to think such a way."

Elouise pouted as she peered over at her mother a second time. Her mother remained seated at the round stone table, holding her white teacup up to her mouth as she blew away the steam. She had that look of disappointment on her face—the one Elouise knew too well.

A life-lesson was approaching.

Before her mother could begin, Elouise heard someone walking over to them. She turned her head and beamed at her father. He stopped beside her mother and leaned down, kissing her tenderly on the cheek.

"How are my two favorite ladies today?" he asked, standing upright, and clutching the back of her chair.

"You are just in time," her mother told him. "I was about to remind our daughter not to take advantage of her title and everything she has." She narrowed her eyes at Elouise.

Elouise hung her head.

"When you turn twenty-one," her mother went on, "you will take my place on the throne and be the Queen of Aristol. And as queen, our people will look to you for guidance. They want a ruler they can trust and confide in; a ruler who relates to them rather than one who intimidates." She set her teacup down and leaned forward in her seat, the corners of her mouth rising slowly.

"I know that talking about your future duties frightens you, Elouise, but there is no need to fear anything. Though you are quite young, I sense immense potential and passion in you. I am confident you will be the kind of leader who will fight for what she believes in."

The butterfly fluttered away. Elouise leaped to her feet and turned to properly face her parents, giving her mother a funny smile.

"How are you so certain about that?" she asked. Her mother held out her gloved hands, and Elouise walked up to her and grabbed them.

"How do you mean?" her mother questioned in return, quirking an eyebrow and smirking. "You are my daughter, are you not? I know you best. Therefore, I know my little one can conquer anything."

Elouise's lips twitched. She gazed up at her father who nodded and grinned at her.

"Trust your mother, Elouise," he said. "She has never been wrong."

"A wise statement," her mother jested. "But truly, Elouise"—she released Elouise's hands and cupped her face instead—"if there should ever come a time where you must fight, I want you to fight as hard as you possibly can. Even if you are weakened, you must promise me you will never give up. And I promise to be by your side through it all."

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