How they became Queen and Kings

The coronation was a blur of crimson and gold. Leilani, perched on a velvet cushion just behind the newly crowned King Byeon-Ho Choi. She felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cavernous cathedral. The whispers of the Caefidel Kingdom, the cult that had orchestrated this seismic shift from democracy to monarchy, echoed around her. They'd painted her father, William Harding, a visionary, a prophet who foresaw the failings of democracy. They portrayed him as the man who saw the need for a strong, singular leader, a figurehead to guide the nation. They attributed his untimely death to a tragic accident, a loss that spurred the nation to embrace the stability of a monarchy.
Four years. That was the unspoken contract, a sentence disguised as an opportunity. Ironically, four years at the prestigious Summerville Academy of Fine Arts were repurposed as a training ground for the future elite, the new aristocracy. Four years to solidify this new world order and mold the next generation of rulers. Four years to keep her secret buried deep, a secret that threatened to unravel the carefully constructed facade.
The true cruelty of the situation lay in her assigned cohort. She was expected not just to coexist with these individuals, but to forge bonds, to become a cohesive unit that would one day govern the kingdom. The group was a jarring mix of unfamiliar faces and, to Leilani's dismay, painfully familiar ones. Among them were the people who had made her school years a relentless torment. Rhys, with his cutting wit and an entourage of sycophants, was the worst offender. She'd endured years of his casual cruelty, his pointed remarks that always found their mark. Now, it was her turn to make his life a living hell. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow: she had no choice in this selection; she was forced to pick the people who made fun of her, bound to them by the forces that had reshaped her world.