Shira Alder and her peasant brother, Damian lived in unity throughout their whole lives. But when Shira is chosen to be queen, something in her brother changes. He becomes distant and cruel. Does he want the crown for himself? What will he do to get...
"I will do anything for you. But this I cannot do. He will not become my husband. I will never marry him."
• Damian Fox Alder
"The king will be your husband .", our elder says. Shira will become queen? But it was promised to me. Why would she do this — if she's becoming queen of Astera? I guess matters must be taken into my own hands, in order to become king.
• Shira
"I will not marry him."
"What choice do you assume we hold? He is king, and we are an insignificant orphanage, an element of his rule. There is no verdict. You have no other options.", my elder continues. "He requested our presence at a ball tonight, apparel was provided."
Attempting to hold my sass, and speak. "And what do you presume, I say when I see him."
"The only thing needed. You accept his proposal."
Securing out of the shower, as my body slipped into the elegant white dress provided.
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My eyes are fixated on my figure, located in the reflection, a lady it cannot recognize in this dress. Just to his taste. An ideal dress, for an ideal queen. My elder walks in her eyes widening. "You look marvelous."
She treads me in the vicinity of the gold mirror, her eyes focusing on my downturned mouth, and my crumpled face, inducing her eyes to roll.
"Smile dear, you are a few weeks from becoming queen."
The carriage yields, our eyes moving towards the window. "We must go. Shouldn't leave the king waiting."
Ball
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
The white curtains reveal the chamber, and my sights meet the masses of elegant folks. Surrounded by elevated walls with crown molding, we walked into the ballroom, hand in hand. Astonished by how beautiful it was. "Oh My God!", my voice speaks, as a squeal falls out my mouth. Crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the arching sky-blue ceiling, illuminating the glimmering golden walls and a floor so polished it looked like an iced-over lake. It caught my breath, my mouth widening.
"Do not gawk, child.", the elder declares, closing my mouth, with the tip of her finger. I've never stood in a space so elegant, so rich, and however posh, my elder may seem, neither has she.
The room made me feel so small, and plain. And it wasn't just the ballroom – the women sparkled like a box of jewels, shades of emerald and ruby and amethyst swirling before me, their low chatter accompanying wafts of rose and hyacinth and jasmine, they were royalty. And I was just a peasant.
My elder takes ahold of my hand. "Yes, Shira. The women are marvelous, they shine like gold. But you — you were chosen by the king. You're different."
My mouth curves. "Thank you."
The King clicks his glass, as the space diverts their engagement to him. "I have a massive announcement to make."
My eyes shift towards my elder, who is beaming. "What's going on?"
"Shira Catherine Alder is to be your queen. Come, my dear."
What?
My body pivots to my elder. " You accepted my proposal for me."
She lets out a slow breath. "You don't understand, dear."
My arms descend, as my legs scurry out of the ballroom.
Shelter
"Wh-why did you do that? Were you trying to embarrass me?"
"Embarrass you?", my elder says stunned. "I did it to protect you. To protect all of us. If you feel embarrassed there is no one to reprimand, but yourself."
"I was going to accept. And you lied to me, how could you?"
"This marriage would've been beneficial for all."
"I am not your hero. Nor a beneficial charity case. Just a child and you are my elder. You're supposed to support me. How could I be of much help now?"
