Shadows Beneath the Crown

The storm rolled in as though the heavens themselves mourned the fate of one unborn child. High in the frostbitten slopes of the Velmiran mountains, where no royal banners flew and no footmen dared tread, a flicker of light pulsed from a single cottage window. The winds howled and lashed at the wooden shutters, threatening to tear them free, but inside the small cottage, another storm raged—quieter, more personal, yet far more devastating. Amara Verentia—once known as Crown Princess of the Verentian Empire—lay crumpled in the bedding, her breath labored, her skin pale. The silken fabric of her once-regal robes had long since been replaced with peasant cloth, and her hands, which had once held scepters and scrolls, now trembled from the effort of survival. Her golden hair, damp with sweat, stuck to her temples as she gritted her teeth against the pain tearing through her body. A man knelt by her side, his hand holding hers tightly. His face bore no noble lineage, no claim to kingdoms or castles. But his eyes held an unwavering determination that had brought them here, far from the gilded prisons of palace life. His name was Eiran. Not her lover. Not her child’s father. But the man who had offered her shelter when the world turned its back on her. “She’s coming,” Amara gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “Eiran… you must promise me.” Eiran leaned closer, pressing a damp cloth to her brow. “Anything.” “If anything happens to me… you’ll protect her. Raise her. Hide her from them.” He nodded. “As my own.” “No,” she rasped, tears lining her lashes. “Not as your own. Let her choose who she wants to be. But never… never let her wear chains made for me.” Eiran’s jaw tightened. He had no title, no resources beyond this simple cottage and the strength in his hands, but he had loved Amara—not romantically, perhaps not even closely. But deeply. Enough to burn bridges and betray kings. Enough to sacrifice everything. Thunder cracked above them, and the first cries of the child tore into the night. A daughter. A girl born of royal blood and rebellion. Conceived in love, but doomed by legacy. Eiran held the infant, swaddling her in the last of Amara’s silken veils. Amara reached for the baby with trembling arms. Her eyes met her daughter’s for the first—and last—time. “She will never know the chains I wore,” Amara murmured. “Call her Belle. A name without titles.” And then, with a final sigh, the light in her eyes dimmed. --- The next morning, the world moved on as though nothing had changed. The kingdom of Verentia continued its opulent dances and cruel politics. No bells rang for the passing of its hidden princess. No lords rode to claim the child born of its fractured lineage. In the mountains, Eiran buried Amara beneath a cherry tree where spring always came early, and snow melted into the roots like tears. He placed a simple stone atop her grave. No name. No crown. Just peace. He raised Belle as best he could. Not as royalty. Not even as family. Just as a child trying to survive a world that wouldn’t understand her. He didn’t tell her about her mother. Not fully. Only that she was brave, beautiful, and gone. He didn’t tell her about her father—the ruthless king of a distant empire, whose cold heart had once captivated Amara before turning her into prey. A man who would destroy anything to erase the scandal of an illegitimate child. He didn’t tell her that there were people who would kill her just for being born. Instead, he taught her how to read, how to fight, how to survive. She learned to stitch her own clothes, forage in the woods, listen for lies in men’s voices. Her laughter became rare. Her eyes, sharp. She became a girl unnoticed by the world. But Belle felt the weight of silence. At night, when Eiran had gone to sleep, she would stare at the stars through the cracks in the ceiling and wonder. Why did her father seems so distant to her? Why did she look so different in the mirror? Why did her heart ache at names she had never heard? When she was ten, she found the locket. Hidden in a hollow behind the fireplace, wrapped in a torn velvet ribbon. Inside was a crest she didn’t recognize—intricate and ancient, woven of silver and jet, crowned with a black star. And a tiny portrait of a woman with hair like hers and eyes that smiled like summer. She asked Eiran who she was. He only said, “Your mother. She prepare some letters for you to read, as her way to communicate to even she's gone." He handed her a box. She looks at it, feeling overwhelmed knowing her mother give her something to communicate to her even they don't met. She have a lot questions in mind but her father is already gone. But Belle was not the kind of girl who left questions unanswered. --- By the time she turned fifteen, Eiran sent her away. Not because he didn’t love her—but because he feared what she would become if left alone too long in a world without challenge. He had secured her a place—barely—at the Velmire Royal Academy, the most prestigious, cruel, and elite institution in the kingdom. A place where status was everything, and mercy was for the dead. She entered under the Bronze Tier, the lowest of the social classes—meant for orphans, servants, and the invisible. With no known family, no wealth, and no explanation, she was placed in the dormitories reserved for staff and utility students. Belle was given a mop before she was given a meal. But Belle did not break. She folded herself into the shadows. She cleaned the great halls, mended uniforms, and memorized the whispers in the corridors. Her hands bled. Her stomach growled. But she endured. The Gold Tier girls mocked her. The Silver Tier boys ignored her. The staff pretended she wasn’t there. But Velmire would not forget her for long. Somewhere within the gilded towers and crystal halls of the academy, a sleeping fate waited for her. A tangled web of half-truths, old bloodlines, hidden powers, and a boy with storm in his eyes. A girl with no crown. And soon, the world would remember her name. Belle Mayne. ps. Its not my name okay, i just made it up and ending up liking it then became my pen name and character😊