Serpentine | ✓

3 | a

*** A ***

I HAVE HEARD of the Royal Family before. Rather read them. On a cloudy, stormy night in the middle of Autumn and the leaves were crushed under the merciless gale.

Having lived deep in the woods, in the shelter of a cave, I knew little to nothing about the townsfolk. But I have, however, visited the kingdom once. It was a long time ago, before the prince was even conceived and I was famished for some of the old baker's - Lucinda - delicious apple pie. I had just knitted my cloak from the wool of Frost Wolves and the Sheepskin. I was in a disguise and it didn't end well.

Let's just say the superstition for the infamous Serpentine has grown, and more men became ensnared into fiction and folly.

Anyways, I was bored to my wits inside the cave while the storm blew. My snakes had gone silent - it was an indication that I needed to feed. With the storm blowing so fast and so harsh, hunting became too much of a hassle. So I was left squeamish and thoroughly famished, listening to the hiss of my snakes while counting.

This was the price to pay for solitude. Sometimes it gets too much, sometimes it doesn't.

The cave was anything out of the ordinary. It was the same place in which I was born, and in which I am confined for the rest of my life. It stood several feet tall, wide as the sky, rocks with sharp edges that seemed to grow anywhere. Why I have been into this place was a mystery I couldn't solve - but this is where I mostly spend my timeless life, together with the petrified forms of my victims and her victims.

In a way it was, what was that word I picked up from the townsfolk a while ago, a home. When the wind blew past so hard, the fire in the cave almost dwindled. The heat doesn't affect me in anyway, it just makes my snakes silent.

And then it came.

The thin, fragile parcel of paper that flew just by the opening of the cave. I don't usually get papers like these but the opportunity was too much of a luxury to pass up. And so I stood, slithered my way to catch the paper.

I feel my heart race.

Written was an article about the Royal Family. A sacred bloodline passed down from generations to generations, with their creed to rule a land that is ripe with power and arrogance.

The Alexanders apparently came before the dawn of the kingdom, they have stood firm in its prime, some of its downfall, most of its history. They rule the kingdom with fairness and kindness, giving away stocks and goods to those who deserve it.

What kindness they show, she always told me that kindness was something you could give out of choice, and not an obligation. You deserve kindness when you are humble and innocent.

Ever since then I wondered what it was like to be in the Royal Family, daydreaming phrases and terms written in the article.

Do I want to be part of the Royal Guard? Of course I do! I have always loved the thrill and action, even when I'm hunting!

But being a Queen sounds good!

Are the Royal Family different from the townsfolk? Do they believe the misplaced superstition about me? Will they punish me for who I am?

Questions I keep asking, answers I fail to seek.

And so I keep my fantasy of being part of the Royal Family to myself. Locked it in a metaphorical chest as I throw the key as far away as possible.

Nothing ever goes good with the mortals.

I didn't stop collecting parcels of papers though. The articles were my new source of entertainment. Until one day, I stumbled upon a piece that changed my life forever.

It was the birth of a prince.

Kingsely Alexander, named after his great grandfather. Destined for greatness, destined to make empires fall.

Destined to break my curse.