Chapter Two - Home Coming
1035 Words
The plane touched down just past sunset, under a familiar twilight sky.
Star watched from her window as the lights of Aurelia glowed in the distance. Aurelia had always looked golden from the air, but tonight it seemed dimmer, as though the sky itself had questions it was too polite to ask.
Star’s reflection trembled in the cabin window as the engines whirred. She had left home, eager to see what she could become, if she dared to dream beyond her Royal existence and oh! what a beautiful life she created. Now she was returning, as a potential bride.
The plane touched down, the faint hum of the engines blending with the rustle of rain across the tarmac. She steps off the plane, breathes in the familiar air—home!
She always preferred the quiet anonymity in travelling commercially and not with an entourage — no flashing cameras, no hovering attendants in royal livery. Just the rhythmic calm of strangers who didn’t know her name.
When the doors opened, the familiar scent of Aurelia’s air — crisp, faintly floral from the southern winds — filled her chest. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.
At the bottom of the ramp, a familiar figure waited beside the sleek black car that was her ride home. Cynthia stood with her usual easy posture, a soft grin spreading across her face the moment their eyes met.
“Your Highness,” Cynthia said with an exaggerated curtsey. “Welcome home.”
Star laughed, rushing forward to pull her into a hug. “Don’t start.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Cynthia teased.
They both laughed, holding onto each other for a few moments longer than necessary. It had been years since they’d last seen one another — since the day Star left. She left behind, not only her title but the people who’d grown up by her side.
The others from the household staff — all familiar faces from her childhood — smiled warmly as they loaded her luggage into the car. Star greeted each by name, her voice soft but full of sincerity.
As the convoy pulled out of the airport, she and Cynthia settled into the back seat.
“It’s so strange,” Star said, watching the fields slip past. “Everything feels smaller.”
“Or maybe you just grew,” Cynthia replied. “We always said you’d outgrow this place.”
Star smiled. “You also said I’d marry a pastry chef in Paris.”
Cynthia grinned. “You broke a lot of our predictions.”
The two fell into an easy rhythm — laughter, inside jokes, and the kind of teasing that only comes from years of shared history.
“Do you still work with Mother in the kitchen?” Star asked, glancing out at the fields rolling past the window.
“Sometimes,” Cynthia said. “Mostly I manage the serving staff now. Though I’ll admit — the new chef burns toast like it’s a sport.”
Star laughed, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “You should have let me know. I’d have sent him my recipe for roast chicken. If he can’t manage that, there’s no hope.”
Cynthia groaned theatrically. “Oh, here we go. Princess Star, savior of the royal kitchen.”
“I’ll take that title,” Star said, chin lifting in mock pride. “At least I’ve earned it.”
“You’ve earned something, that’s for sure,” Cynthia said with a grin. “The staff still talk about your Sunday stew from the New Year’s banquet. Half the court nearly proposed to you on the spot.”
Star chuckled, remembering. “That stew deserved a crown of its own.”
They both laughed until the car rounded the last bend of the long, tree-lined drive.
The Aurelia Palace—her childhood home—came into view, its elegant exterior glowing softly in the evening light, a familiar comfort after so many years. But what caught her off guard wasn’t the building itself; it was the people.
They were waiting.
Her family — her mother in a shawl of midnight blue, her father standing tall beside her, and just beside them, her two brothers, their wives, and their children — all lined up across the wide front steps. The household staff stood nearby, smiles bright despite the hour.
The moment Star stepped out of the car, her mother crossed the courtyard first, arms open wide.
“Welcome home, my love.”
She ran into the Queen’s embrace. It was warm and familiar — a comfort that needed no ceremony.
Her father’s hug followed, firm and wordless, his hand briefly resting against the back of her head like he used to when she was small.
“About time you came back,” her eldest brother, Gerald, teased, pulling her in next. “We were starting to think you’d found a new kingdom.”
“I did,” she said with mock solemnity. “They had less family interference.”
Less interference?” Seb, her other brother gasped dramatically. “Unacceptable. We pride ourselves on being delightfully intrusive.”
The laughter that followed was soft and genuine. Even the staff joined in, and Star could feel her chest swell with something she had missed all these years - belonging.
Seb playfully rubs her head and pulls her into a warm embrace as He whispers, “I missed you, kiddo”.
She moved through the line, hugging everyone she could, exchanging familiar greetings and quick jokes. The children darted between legs and giggled when she knelt to hug them, whispering that they’d grown taller than her memory allowed.
When the noise finally settled, her mother took her hand. “Come inside, Star. dinner’s waiting, and so are all the questions I promised your brothers they wouldn’t ask.”
Cynthia leaned closer and whispered as they started toward the palace doors, “Translation: expect at least twenty questions before dessert.”
Star smiled, her heart full. The rain had softened to a mist, wrapping the palace in a quiet silver glow.
For the first time in a long time, she felt the quiet relief of being home.
- Writer
