Zara didn't even see the truck coming. One second, she was gripping her book and steering with her other hand, muttering about how dumb the protagonist's choices were. The next, headlights flooded her vision, a horn blared, and the world flipped. Metal screeched, glass shattered, and pain lanced through her body before everything went dark.

When Zara opened her eyes, she was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. 

Golden chandeliers sparkled above her, and the air smelled faintly of rosewater. Her head throbbed, her limbs felt weak, and her heart stopped. 

This wasn't a hospital. She wasn't in her car.

"Your Majesty? Are you all right?"

Zara's head snapped to the side. A young woman stood near the bed, her hands clasped nervously. She was dressed like she'd stepped out of a historical drama, with a long gown and delicate embroidery.

"Majesty?" Zara croaked. Her voice sounded raw.

"Queen Lysandra, do you feel okay" the woman said softly. "You've been unconscious since the fall. The council is waiting for you to make your decision."

Decision? Fall? Queen Lysandra?

Zara sat up abruptly, ignoring the dizziness that hit her like a wave. She looked down at herself, trying to catch her breath, She wasn't wearing her favorite hoodie and leggings; before now, she was just a regular 19 year old and law student at Colombia university with a promising future ahead; Instead, now, she was draped in a gown of white silk, embroidered with gold. Rings glinted on her fingers, slender, delicate fingers that weren't hers.

"What… what is this?" Zara whispered, staring at her hands.

The maid hesitated. "Your Majesty?"

"I'm not…" Zara's voice broke. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet brushing a carpet. She caught sight of a mirror on the far wall and froze.

That wasn't her face.

Her chest tightened, panic building like a dam about to burst. She stumbled toward the mirror, her knees weak, and gripped the frame to steady herself. The reflection showed a young woman with striking features, high cheekbones, flawless skin, and white hair pinned into an intricate braid. It wasn't her.

"This isn't real," Zara whispered to herself. "This isn't happening. I'm not a queen. I'm… I'm Zara. I'm a law student. I have finals next week. This isn't real!"

"Your Majesty," the maid said urgently, stepping closer. "Please, calm down. You'll make yourself ill again."

"I can't… I can't…" Zara backed away from the mirror, her heart racing.

The maid caught her arm gently. "Your Majesty, I know this must be overwhelming, but the council is waiting. The future of Calethia depends on your decision."

"Calethia?" Zara echoed, the name unfamiliar on her tongue. "What decision? What are you talking about?"

Before the maid could answer, a loud knock echoed through the room.

The moment was so surreal Zara cracked under the pressure, muttering, "If only I could just Uber out of here."

The maid blinked, tilting her head. "Uber?"

Zara let out a weak laugh, then shook her head quickly. "Never mind. Just… forget it." She felt silly for even trying to joke.

The door creaked open, and a man stepped inside. He was tall, sharp-eyed, and dressed in regal robes.

"You've kept the council waiting long enough," he said in anger. "King Erythian demands your answer tonight."

"Who?" Zara asked, her voice shaky.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Your betrothed."

Zara's head spun. Betrothed? A king? What kind of nightmare was this?

"I—I need time," she stammered.

"There is no time," the man snapped. "Enemies are at our borders, and the alliance depends on your marriage to the king. You must choose, tonight!"

Zara opened her mouth to argue, but a sudden commotion in the hallway interrupted her. Shouts rang out, followed by the clash of steel.

The council man dressed in a regal robe moves to the doorway turned sharply and yelled "Guards!"

The door burst open, and chaos erupted. 

A man in dark clothing charged into the room, with a daggera dagger. Zara's breath caught as the assassin lunged towards her.

Time seemed to slow. Without thinking, Zara grabbed a decorative flower vase from the nearby table and threw it at the attacker`s head.

This gave time for a guard to shoot an arrow to his chest and tackle him before he could strike. 

The struggle ended quickly, the assassin pinned and disarmed and is soaked in a pool of his own blood…but he is still alive.

Zara's hands trembled.

"Are you hurt, Your Majesty?" the maid asked, rushing to her side.

Zara shook her head, her eyes still on the assassin.

The council representative straightened his robes and scowled. "This is exactly why the alliance is necessary. 

Without it, Calethia will fall to chaos."

The guards dragged the assassin away, and the room fell silent again. Zara's knees gave out, and she sank onto the bed.

"I can't do this," she whispered. "I'm not a queen. I don't belong here."

The maid knelt beside her, her expression soft. "I don't know what's happened to you, but you're stronger than you think, Your Majesty. You just proved that."

Zara didn't respond. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

The maid (Mirenna) was able to calm her down enough to take a nap to help refresh her, sleep came reluctantly but when it finally did, it was anything but peaceful.

Zara dreamed of a dark room filled with shadows. A pair of massive black wings unfurled before her, their edges sharp as blades. She tried to run, but the wings wrapped around her, pulling her into darkness.

She jolted awake, her heart pounding. The room was still and quiet, but something felt off.

Her gaze fell on the pillow beside her.

A single black feather rested there.

"What?…" she gasped.