The Second Generation: Journey to the Golden Kingdom

Chapter Two

There must have been a time when my castle was beautiful. When there were paintings on the walls. When the cold marble floor was broken up with red carpet. When the lights were warm instead of migraine-inducing.

I mention this because today the castle is beautiful. Today there are vases of flowers in the hallway, but not just any old flowers. Novarian Roses. Mysteriously created, non-wilting, and uniquely vanilla scented. They all look the same: ivory-colored petals and golden leaves and stems. Although no one knows how they appeared, they've become a symbol of my kingdom. And their scent triggers a memory.

I have always wondered about my childhood, a cloudy fragment of my life. But once in a while, I'll have a memory. Something so vivid and clear that I want to go back to that time, but I can't. And the vision lasts for a fraction of a moment.

For a moment I am transported to a time I was young, just after the death of my parents. I see guards taking the large vases of flowers off of their pedestals, and I believe there is one point when I ask them, "What are you doing?"

And the response is, "We're just making a few changes, Your Highness."

From that moment on, there has been only one version of this castle that I have known. And that version consists of clean white walls, cool fluorescents lining the ceilings, and sleek sliding doors that disappear into the wall when shut. Ms. Snyder has always had specific standards for the "aesthetic" of the castle. Standards I have never understood. But I would never speak against it.

But today, there is color. There is vibrance. People are wearing accents of purple and rolling out velvet carpet down the halls. Drapes are being hung over the windows and ribbons and banners are strewn over the walls.

From my own artistic ability, I am led to assume that my parents were similar to me. I mean, it had to come from somewhere. And Mia has explained to me that certain traits and talents can be genetic, much like my powers. Certainly, they would not be pleased by Ms. Snyder's changes to the castle. Perhaps that will be my pitch for beginning a renovation project once I am crowned Queen.

Mia and I take the fast elevator up, avoiding any signs of my escort. When our ride comes to a smooth halt, I hear Mia angrily muttering as she takes off her heels. Upon stepping into my room, she begins complaining about the blisters she's now destined to acquire and how the shoes only make her look more freakishly tall than she already is.

"You look nice," I assure her as she slumps down on my bed.

"Sure, but I can only imagine what kind of monstrosity of a gown Snyder cooked up for you," Mia says. "I'm thinking it's going to scream 1960's brutalism with big shoulder pads." She extends her arms to the side.

"Oh, please. Brutalism is technically an architectural style, not a fashion trend."

"Then you obviously don't know as much about Ms. Snyder as you think you do." A knock sounds at the door. "Speaking of..."

Opening the door, I am greeted by an unfamiliar worker carrying a long black bag. "Huh, I expected Ms. Snyder to drop off my gown," I tell him.

"Well, this isn't from Ms. Snyder," he responds before carelessly dropping the bag into my arms. "Please just take this. It's heavy." He plops a pair of shimmery gold heels on top. "Oh, and Happy Coronation Day," he adds before leaving.

"Thanks..." I close the door and turn to Mia. "It seems someone else has cooked up something for me."

"Who else could have?"

"Not sure." I gently lay the bag on my bed, along with the shoes, allowing a small shimmery card to flutter towards the ground. I pick it up to read:

Dear Renée,