I examine myself in my sterling silver framed, hand held mirror. I've been both blessed and cursed with the features of my beautiful parents. My father's light blonde hair, my mother's curls, my father's upturned nose, my mother's high cheekbones, my father's pointed chin, my mother's golden skin tone, my father's broad shoulders, my mother's curves, my father's tall height, my mother's green eyes, my father's thick, blonde eyelashes...

Everytime I see my reflection I think of them. Fond memories. Until I start thinking about Aspen, the little mistake who cost me both of them when I was just fifteen. My mother died giving birth to her on my birthday, and my father was so depressed by her death he took his own life that night. He left me a note, right next to his hung body. I still have it. I close my eyes and his handwritten words burn in my brain...

To my dear daughter Luna,

I'm so sorry, but I cannot live without your mother, my wife. She is the love of my life, she's been with me almost my entire life. My spirit will remain forever unsettled til it is reunited with hers. I truly hope you will not resent me for this, for if I stay I won't ever really be there. This must be done. But before I go, I must first let you know something. Aspen, your sister, is not my daughter. You see, your mother was raped by a terrible, horrible, sick, man. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way, but you must keep something this scandalous a secret. I know this all must be so hard for you, and I wish I could fix it all. But, sadly, it is all beyond all our control. Just remember, I and your mother will be looking down on you each and everyday. Bye...

With love, your father

I hate that little demon. She's not my sister, she's the daughter of the devil himself! And since my father is the one who comes from the royal family and she is not his daughter, she can't take the thrown. Yet, if I die that's exactly what she'll do. She doesn't even look like family. Sickly pale, black hair(which she haft shaved and tip dyed blue like she's so cool) , short, no figure...

Ugh, I'm done thinking about she-who-shall-not-be-named.

I grab my red lipstick to apply...

Knock, knock...

"Yes...?" I say, putting the lipstick down. "I've come with breakfast, your majesty." the feeble voice of a servant says. "You may come in, then..." I say, putting my mirror down. The door creaks open. The servant silently steps in. He places a tray on my nightstand, as he has been told to always do. He exists. I leave my makeup dresser and sit on my bed, grabbing my tray and placing it on my lap. A scoop of berries, a couple slices of toast drizzled with maple syrup, and scrambled eggs. I pop a berry into my mouth. Sour, very sour indeed. I close my eyes and let the flavor fill my mouth, linger there...

"Ya know, you're really cute when you sleep..." his masculine voice mumbles, in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder, his arms around my torso. I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling. He places his hand under my chin, and gently turns my head so that we're facing each other. His smile is so beautiful, so warm. "Don't roll your eyes, it's true. Though you're even more beautiful when you're awake, when you can smile, laugh, dance around..." he says. "Even when you roll your eyes you're still stunning." he pulls my face closer to his. Our foreheads are touching. The scent of pine radiates off him, as usual. I hold his rough hands as I kiss his soft lips. They taste like berries. Sour berries. I've never liked sour things, unlike him who loves them. But he somehow makes even them enjoyable. I make a mental note to have the servants make sure I get those sour berries every morning for him...

"Hey, Luna...?" Aspen's stupid voice says, snapping me out of my flashback. "What?" I grumble. The sour taste has left my mouth, replaced by a even more sour one. An envelope slides under my door. "Happy birthday..." she says sadly, walking away.

What, sad you don't get your birthday all to yourself? That you can't take it from me like you've taken everything else? Well, my thrown is another thing you won't take...

I put the tray aside and toss the envelope in the bottom draw of my makeup dresser, with the other's she's brought on my birthday. I sit down, grab my lipstick, and apply while looking into my mirror. She won't take my crown...

Sure, I've made some deals with some bad people. And sure, I'm messing with the laws of life. But hey, it's all been worth it. I look at the lipstick. It looks totally unused. It's everlasting, like me. Been doing this since I was a youthful looking twenty five year old. Not too old, but old enough to be taken seriously. Perfect, just perfect. And some say magic doesn't exist. Pff. I put the mirror and lipstick away. In the top draw...