I had a troubling dream—a nightmare, really—of an evil spirit infiltrating the castle, attempting to take my life. Terrified, I awoke with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. The darkness of the room felt suffocating, and the memory of the sinister presence still lingered in the air. I didn't hesitate. In a state of panic, I rushed straight to Alastare's room.
"Open up!" I knocked furiously on his door. Was he deaf, or was he simply ignoring me? My knocks grew louder, desperate.
"I'll be right there… What is it—WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" Alastare exclaimed, flinging open the door. He looked disheveled, his hair sticking out in odd angles, but I didn't care. I walked past him without hesitation and flopped onto his bed.
"Get out now, or I'll call the guards," he said, trying to push me off the bed, but his voice had no real authority.
"Or I'll call the guards," I mimicked sarcastically, crossing my arms defiantly.
"What do you want?" he asked, clearly annoyed. His eyes were still half-closed, as if he hadn't fully woken up yet.
"Nothing. But your talk about evil spirits gave me nightmares. Besides, I'm not used to sleeping in that massive room," I explained, my voice a little defensive. The truth was, I had never been able to sleep well alone, especially not in that grand room that felt more like a haunted castle than a peaceful sanctuary.
"Huuuuh," Alastare rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by my reasons.
"Well, sleep on the sofa then," he suggested, pointing to the far corner of the room, where a plush sofa sat next to the fireplace.
"But I'm a princess," I said, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. I wasn't about to sleep on a sofa when I had a perfectly good bed in his room, no matter how uncomfortable.
"Well, I'm about to be the crown prince," he shot back without missing a beat. "Sorry, but that's higher."
"You said 'about to,' so you're not the crown prince just yet," I retorted, raising an eyebrow at him.
"This is my room, so I'm ruling here," he declared with an air of finality, as though that was the end of the discussion.
"But I'm the princess!" I exclaimed, sitting up on the bed in mock indignation, crossing my arms for emphasis.
"UGH, YOU'RE SO ANNOYING!" Alastare groaned, throwing himself back onto the bed and smothering his ears with a pillow. I couldn't help but laugh. That wasn't so hard, was it?
We both fell into an uneasy silence, and for a moment, I just watched him, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. Eventually, sleep overcame me, and I drifted off beside him.
The coronation day was fast approaching, and the palace was bustling with activity. There were preparations to be made, robes to be fitted, and endless details to take care of. Tailors came to measure us for our ceremonial attire, taking precise measurements with their tapes. The day felt like a whirlwind.
"Please stand still, Your Highness," the tailor instructed as she measured my chest span, her voice soft and respectful. The cold touch of the measuring tape made me shiver slightly.
Despite all the chaos, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. This day was not just important for Alastare—it was important for all of us. He was stepping into a new role, one that would change everything. But aside from coronation, something else was coming up, and it was Alas's birthday.
At long last, the much-anticipated day had arrived—my brother Alastare's birthday. For weeks, I had meticulously prepared, determined beyond measure to be the very first to offer him my heartfelt felicitations. My scheme was no secret; even our father, the King, and my elder brother, Prince Kyre, were privy to my plan. In the days prior, I had discreetly procured a modest cake, envisioning an intimate, unforgettable midnight surprise. Surely, my devotion to this endeavor was nothing short of commendable, was it not?
As the palace descended into its nocturnal stillness, the grand clock struck midnight. The corridors lay shrouded in the gentle glow of moonlight, casting elongated shadows across the ancient stone walls. Quietly, I slipped through the silent halls, cradling the diminutive cake adorned with flickering candles. To my astonishment, I discovered Father and Kyre awaiting me near the kitchens, their expressions alight with mirth.
"I shall carry the cake," Kyre offered, a mischievous glint in his eye as though this clandestine adventure amused him to no end.
"Very well," I acquiesced, relinquishing the cake into his care. Turning to Father, I inquired, "You have the master key, do you not?"
Father grinned, brandishing the ornate key with a flourish. "Indeed, my dear. What sort of king would I be without it?" His voice brimmed with an almost childlike excitement, an uncharacteristic levity that softened his otherwise regal demeanor.
Together, we approached Alastare's chamber. The heavy oaken door yielded with a soft click as Father turned the key. The three of us crept inside, Kyre and Father slipping into the shadows while I advanced toward the bed. The faint light from the candles danced upon Alastare's face, serene in repose. My heart quickened as I leaned down and placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder.
"Alastare… Alastare, awaken," I whispered, my voice trembling with restrained excitement.
A groggy groan escaped his lips. "What?" he muttered, his tone drenched in irritation.
"Sit up," I urged, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I suppressed the urge to laugh.
"No… ugh, leave me be," he grumbled, barely cracking open an eye.
"Please, Alastare," I entreated, shaking him a little more insistently.
At last, with a sigh of exasperation, he sat upright, his expression a blend of bewilderment and vexation. "What is it now?" he demanded, his voice hoarse from slumber.
Without further ado, I flung my arms around him in a jubilant embrace. At that moment, Kyre illuminated the room, the sudden brightness dispelling the shadows.
"Happy birthday!" Father and Kyre exclaimed in unison, their voices resonating with joy.
"Ai birthday, brother!" I chimed in, unable to contain my delight.
Alastare blinked in astonishment, his previously disgruntled demeanor replaced with an expression of pure, unguarded happiness. "Oh, my heavens," he murmured, his smile spreading wide.
"Happy birthday, my son," Father said warmly, stepping forward to embrace him. He placed a tender kiss upon Alastare's forehead, a rare display of paternal affection.
"Thank you, Father," Alastare replied, his voice suffused with gratitude.
"Happy birthday, brother," Kyre added, extending a hand for a high-five.
"Thank you all," Alastare said softly, his voice quivering with emotion as he looked from one of us to the other.
Kyre stepped forward, presenting the cake. "Make a wish, Alastare, then extinguish the candles," he encouraged with a grin.
With a solemn nod, Alastare closed his eyes briefly, his expression contemplative. He then leaned forward and blew out the candles, their flames flickering out one by one. Cheers erupted from us all, the sound filling the chamber with warmth and laughter. Soon after, Father and Kyre departed, leaving me alone with Alastare.
A quiet stillness descended upon the room, the soft scent of wax lingering in the air. I hesitated, the weight of unspoken words pressing against my chest.
"Alas," I began hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you for being my brother. You've always been there for me, even before I knew we had a real father. When I thought of what a father should be, I always saw your face. You've sacrificed so much for me—more than I'll ever be able to repay. I'm sorry for all my immature behaviors, if I've ever annoyed you or hurt you. I never meant to be a burden. I'll try to become someone you can be proud of. I just want you to know how much I love and look up to you. Thank you for everything. Uh- whatever, happy birthday, Alastare." I tried not to cried.
As my words fell into silence, I noticed tears glistening in Alastare's eyes. They spilled over, trailing down his cheeks, and in that moment, my own tears followed. It was as though all the emotions we had never spoken aloud were finally laid bare between us.
"You could never be a burden, Mei," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled me into a fierce embrace. "I love you too. You've always been my greatest comfort, my unwavering support. I am so thankful for you."
We held each other for a moment longer, the bond between us solidified in that quiet, sacred instant. As we parted, I managed a tearful smile.
"Good luck, Alastare, as you take on the mantle of Crown Prince," I said softly, my words carrying the weight of both pride and hope.
"Thank you, Mei," he whispered, his gaze steady and full of affection. He embraced me one final time before we bid each other goodnight.
The kingdom was alive in a way I had never experienced before. The entire kingdom seemed to glow with excitement, as the courtyards and castle halls were draped in gold and purple banners. Music played from all corners of the grounds, and the sweet scent of lavish feasts wafted through the air. The air shimmered with excitement, the kind of energy that only a royal celebration could bring. The streets were lined with lanterns. Prince Alastare, stood beside me, his eyes reflecting the same awe and pride as mine as we watched the courtyards fill with people from all over the kingdom.
I had never been a part of such a grand affair before—back in my home, our celebrations were small, intimate gatherings with only the closest of family and friends. But here, in the heart of Alastare's kingdom, the festivities were monumental. The entire royal court, along with nobles and citizens, had gathered to celebrate Alastare's birthday, and it seemed like the entire world had turned out for him.
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The day of Alastare's inauguration as Crown Prince arrived with a breathless intensity, the very air crackling with anticipation. The morning sky was an impossibly vivid shade of blue, the sun hanging high and golden, casting a warm, almost otherworldly glow over the palace. The castle gates were flung wide open, their ancient wood groaning under the weight of the moment, and the courtyard beyond teemed with a sea of people—noblemen, villagers, and dignitaries alike, all gathered for the event that would mark the beginning of a new era. Their excited chatter buzzed in the air like a swarm of bees, and the very ground seemed to vibrate beneath our feet, as if the earth itself was holding its breath.
The palace had been transformed for the occasion. Flags in royal colors fluttered from every tower, and intricate banners, woven with golden thread, cascaded from the balconies, rippling in the breeze like the wings of some mythical creature. Flowers in every hue imaginable lined the paths, their petals swaying like the soft, murmured prayers of a thousand hearts. The stone steps that led to the small stage were polished until they gleamed, reflecting the sky above.
I stood before the mirror in my chambers, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on my shoulders. The room was dim, the curtains drawn to block out the bright chaos of the world outside, and yet I could feel it all—the gravity of what was happening. My gown shimmered in the low light, a soft rose-gold that seemed to shift with every movement. The fabric, smooth and cool against my skin, was sculpted to perfection, hugging my figure before flowing out like a pool of liquid light. The transparent cape draped over my shoulders, glittering with a million tiny, diamond-like flecks that caught the faintest glimmer of the room's light and scattered it like stars across the darkened walls. It felt like a second skin—beautiful, yet unnervingly foreign.
The diamond crown perched lightly atop my head, a subtle weight that carried the full weight of responsibility. I touched it briefly, almost to reassure myself that it wasn't a dream, that this moment was real. It wasn't nearly as heavy as the Queen's crown, thank goodness, but it still felt like a symbol of something vast and incomprehensible. I could almost feel the eyes of the world upon me, watching, waiting.
When I joined Alastare on the small stage, the crowd's energy was palpable, swirling around us like a living, breathing thing. His white attire gleamed in the sunlight, regal and flawless, his posture straight and proud despite the tremors of uncertainty I knew he felt. The air was thick with emotion—excitement, fear, joy, all blending together into an intoxicating cocktail that seemed to fill my lungs with every breath I took.
The moment arrived, the world falling away as the announcer's voice rang clear through the courtyard.
"…and so, hereby, I announce Crown Prince Alastare Aethelard!" The words struck the air like a lightning bolt, and the crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Cheers exploded around us, some so loud that they seemed to shake the very foundations of the castle. People wept, their tears of joy glittering like rain in the sunlight, while others cheered ecstatically, their voices a chorus of triumph. The sound was overwhelming, consuming everything.
I clapped, the applause almost mechanical, as I turned to look at my brother. Our eyes met across the crowd, and for a brief, fleeting moment, everything else disappeared. His smile was bright, but beneath it, I could see the flicker of something deeper—something raw, something real. A sense of pride surged through me, so strong it almost stole my breath away. He was finally where he was meant to be.
That night, after the ceremony had ended and the festivities had begun to quiet, we gathered in the family chambers once more. The air was warmer now, tinged with the scent of burning candles and the faintest hint of spiced wine. The flickering shadows on the walls seemed to dance along with the low murmur of conversation.
"Father…" Alastare's voice was quiet, hesitant, as if he were unsure how to begin.
"Yeah, son?" Our father looked up, his expression a mixture of pride and exhaustion.
"Are crown princes still not allowed to marry anyone except for a princess here?" Alastare's question hung in the air, tentative and uncertain.
Our father's eyebrow arched, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Has he got someone in mind?" he asked, a teasing tone creeping into his voice.
"You can tell him, Alastare," I chimed in, unable to resist the urge to press.
"Who is it? Who is it?" I added, my curiosity getting the better of me.
"Shut up, Mei," Alastare groaned, clearly uncomfortable.
"My friend, Banyu. She's an amazing waterbender, Dad," Alastare finally admitted, his voice soft but resolute.
"Thanks to me, she'll be the next queen if you marry her," our father added, his grin widening.
"WHAT? Really?" Alastare asked, his voice lifting in surprise. His eyes lit up, and for a moment, he looked like the boy I remembered, not the soon-to-be Crown Prince.
"Yeah," our father confirmed with a nod.
Before any more words could pass between us, the door to the chamber creaked open with a sudden, jarring noise. Two guards entered, their footsteps resounding through the room with a weight that made the air feel thick, heavy, and oppressive. They moved with purpose, their expressions stern, their eyes fixed straight ahead. As they bowed low before our father, the tension in the room seemed to rise, coiling like a snake ready to strike.
"Yes?" Our father's voice cut through the stillness, sharp and commanding. His gaze flickered from the guards to us, the unspoken weight of whatever was coming next settling like a stone in the pit of my stomach.
"There is someone who insists on seeing you immediately," one of the guards said, his voice low and almost strained. "We've tried to send her away, but she begged, kneeling, and refuses to leave until she speaks to you."
The words hung in the air, thick with the promise of something unsettling. Our father's face hardened, his brow furrowing as he exchanged a brief, almost imperceptible glance with us. Something in that look made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, a warning, a silent signal that whatever was coming next, it wasn't going to be ordinary.
"Uh, yes, yes, of course. Bring her here," our father finally said, his voice colder now, laced with an edge I hadn't expected. His command left no room for argument.
We followed the guards, the silence pressing down around us as we moved through the shadowed corridors. The weight of the moment felt unbearable, the stone walls closing in as if the castle itself was holding its breath. Every step we took seemed to echo louder than the last, the sound bouncing off the walls like the pounding of a distant war drum, a rhythm that quickened my pulse.
The air grew colder as we neared the courtyard, the flickering torches casting long, wavering shadows along the floor. My heart raced in my chest, each beat thudding with an intensity that left me breathless. We reached the courtyard gates, and there—standing just beyond them, in the dim light—was a figure that sent a jolt of recognition straight through me.
She was draped in simple, worn village clothing, the fabric frayed at the edges and stained with the marks of a life lived in hardship. It was the kind of clothing I had once worn back in Archirilio—the kind that spoke of struggles and survival, not royalty. The sight of her, so out of place here in the grandeur of the palace, made something in my chest tighten.
As I took a step closer, our eyes met—her gaze locking onto mine with a piercing intensity that took the breath from my lungs. The world seemed to tilt, the courtyard blurring around the edges as everything inside me stilled, as though time itself had stopped. My mind raced, confusion and disbelief flooding my thoughts, drowning out everything else.
Could it be... Mother?