I stare into the mirror. My face is full of sharp edges and looks cruel even with a smile. It is my greatest fault as well as a blessing.
Tonight is the annual Palentia gala, and I am definitely not looking forward to it. The holiday celebrates the reign of the Stormer Dynasty and all that is has ruined. I think our kingdom is cruel. But outside the gates, everything is different. Most think that there are only farmers and their families. However, one hears rumors. Rumors of rebels and dissenters. No one knows for sure. But I will soon enough. I've convinced my father to send me outside the kingdom's gates. To visit the farmers and evaluate their work. A lie. I am the heir to the throne. And when I inherit the country's rule, our world will be at my fingertips and on my shoulders. I could change our county forever if I wished to do so. And I will, no matter the cost.
+++
Down the hall, I hear the grating of metal against marble on the white floors. My mother. Her favorite shoes are glass stilettos, with pointed daggers as heels. Beautiful, but deadly. How fitting.
She walks into my room, smiling. That's never a good sign. Behind her are two maids, carrying a large rectangular grey box. A dress box.
"Thought you'd like to wear this tonight." She says, with her mouth smiling but her eyes frowning. She seems to have sensed that I'm not all too happy about Palentia. I never have been, but she can't know that. No one can. If anyone finds out, I may face doubt about my qualifications as a Queen. That can not happen. Ever.
"Eira, are you all right? I thought you'd like something made especially for this evening."
"I'm just tired," I say quickly. My mother squints her eyes for a moment before ordering the maids to set the box on my bed.
"Well, you should rest before the gala then. Tonight is going to be a long night." She turns around and exits through the way she came. As the maids follow her out, one winks at me. Huh.
After I'm sure she's gone, I open the box. Wrapped in a thin sheet of black paper is the dress. It's beautiful but I hate it. It's long and black, with miniature pieces of obsidian sewn into the neckline. The fabric glitters and swishes when I put in on, like a dark ocean. It could be easy to love the dress, but I don't. I just can't. Besides the dress, there is an envelope, as well as a tiara made of sharp obsidian shards. There is also a small shoebox, and inside are a pair of sparkling black shoes made of glass. Every piece of the outfit is stunning, but I despise it all. I hate the dress and this place and everything it stands for. Tyranny and Destruction. Oppression and Cruelty. One day I'm going to let it all burn.
Nevertheless, tonight is crucial. I have a way of contacting the rebels, and I'm meeting someone tonight. Someone very valuable to me. I remember the envelope. I pick it up and read it. Eira,
A woman named Elizabeth will be waiting by the door, dressed in blue. She is the one you're looking for.
I wish you the best of luck, your highness.
Lilliana
That's why she winked. Lilliana. Pretty, I think. Just like her.
In the end, I do as my mother suggested. After I take off the dress, I rest. And I worry.
I could die. My head could end up on my father's table. Everything would have been for nothing. All the notes being passed through my maids to the rebels, all the nights spent sneaking around. All of the proof of correspondence I've burned. Everything is at stake. And I've never been a good gambler.
After I've spent a significant amount of my time worrying, I check the clock. 5:30. I'm going to be late. I slip on the dress, and I don't have time to put up my hair, so I leave it down. I place the tiara securely atop my head (nearly cutting my finger open in the process), and slip on the shoes. Everything's perfect. Too perfect, one might say.
When I reach the ballroom, my mother is just short of going ballistic.
"Where were you?" She asks it like a question but she's almost yelling.
"I... did as you suggested. I rested for a while, and I'm afraid that I may have let time get away from me."
"May have?" she quotes. "You also may have been twenty minutes late to the biggest holiday of the year! You couldn't possibly imagine how many people have been asking for you."
"I'm truly sorry, Mother," I say. And I am. "May I please go now?"
"You may. Also, please go thank the seamstress over there in the blue. She made your dress. Elizabeth, I think."
My eyes immediately dart to the seamstress. She has beautiful red hair and is wearing a dark blue dress, the same style as mine.
I stare into the mirror. My face is full of sharp edges and looks cruel even with a smile. It is my greatest fault as well as a blessing.
Tonight is the annual Palentia gala, and I am definitely not looking forward to it. The holiday celebrates the reign of the Stormer Dynasty and all that is has ruined. I think our kingdom is cruel. But outside the gates, everything is different. Most think that there are only farmers and their families. However, one hears rumors. Rumors of rebels and dissenters. No one knows for sure. But I will soon enough. I've convinced my father to send me outside the kingdom's gates. To visit the farmers and evaluate their work. A lie. I am the heir to the throne. And when I inherit the country's rule, our world will be at my fingertips and on my shoulders. I could change our county forever if I wished to do so. And I will, no matter the cost.
+++
Down the hall, I hear the grating of metal against marble on the white floors. My mother. Her favorite shoes are glass stilettos, with pointed daggers as heels. Beautiful, but deadly. How fitting.
She walks into my room, smiling. That's never a good sign. Behind her are two maids, carrying a large rectangular grey box. A dress box.
"Thought you'd like to wear this tonight." She says, with her mouth smiling but her eyes frowning. She seems to have sensed that I'm not all too happy about Palentia. I never have been, but she can't know that. No one can. If anyone finds out, I may face doubt about my qualifications as a Queen. That can not happen. Ever.
"Eira, are you all right? I thought you'd like something made especially for this evening."
"I'm just tired," I say quickly. My mother squints her eyes for a moment before ordering the maids to set the box on my bed.
"Well, you should rest before the gala then. Tonight is going to be a long night." She turns around and exits through the way she came. As the maids follow her out, one winks at me. Huh.
After I'm sure she's gone, I open the box. Wrapped in a thin sheet of black paper is the dress. It's beautiful but I hate it. It's long and black, with miniature pieces of obsidian sewn into the neckline. The fabric glitters and swishes when I put in on, like a dark ocean. It could be easy to love the dress, but I don't. I just can't. Besides the dress, there is an envelope, as well as a tiara made of sharp obsidian shards. There is also a small shoebox, and inside are a pair of sparkling black shoes made of glass. Every piece of the outfit is stunning, but I despise it all. I hate the dress and this place and everything it stands for. Tyranny and Destruction. Oppression and Cruelty. One day I'm going to let it all burn.
Nevertheless, tonight is crucial. I have a way of contacting the rebels, and I'm meeting someone tonight. Someone very valuable to me. I remember the envelope. I pick it up and read it.
Eira,
A woman named Elizabeth will be waiting by the door, dressed in blue. She is the one you're looking for.
I wish you the best of luck, your highness.
Lilliana
That's why she winked. Lilliana. Pretty, I think. Just like her.
In the end, I do as my mother suggested. After I take off the dress, I rest. And I worry.
I could die. My head could end up on my father's table. Everything would have been for nothing. All the notes being passed through my maids to the rebels, all the nights spent sneaking around. All of the proof of correspondence I've burned. Everything is at stake. And I've never been a good gambler.
After I've spent a significant amount of my time worrying, I check the clock. 5:30. I'm going to be late. I slip on the dress, and I don't have time to put up my hair, so I leave it down. I place the tiara securely atop my head (nearly cutting my finger open in the process), and slip on the shoes. Everything's perfect. Too perfect, one might say.
When I reach the ballroom, my mother is just short of going ballistic.
"Where were you?" She asks it like a question but she's almost yelling.
"I... did as you suggested. I rested for a while, and I'm afraid that I may have let time get away from me."
"May have?" she quotes. "You also may have been twenty minutes late to the biggest holiday of the year! You couldn't possibly imagine how many people have been asking for you."
"I'm truly sorry, Mother," I say. And I am. "May I please go now?"
"You may. Also, please go thank the seamstress over there in the blue. She made your dress. Elizabeth, I think."
My eyes immediately dart to the seamstress. She has beautiful red hair and is wearing a dark blue dress, the same style as mine.
It's her. I waste no time.