The Princess Who Was Never Meant to Be Queen.

Princess Elara Valmont had never understood why people made such a fuss about birthdays. Especially royal birthdays. Every year, the palace servants polished silver until it practically blinded anyone who looked at it. Flowers were carried in by the cartload. Musicians rehearsed for days. Nobles arrived dressed as though they were competing for the attention of the entire kingdom. And every year, Elara smiled through it all. This year was no different. Except that she was twenty-one. “Stop moving.” Elara sighed. “I’ve been standing here for almost an hour.” “You’ve been standing there for twelve minutes.” “That is twelve minutes too long.” Her sister laughed from behind her. “Twenty-one years old and still impatient.” Elara glanced at Isabella through the mirror. Princess Isabella Valmont stood behind her, dressed in a deep blue gown embroidered with tiny silver flowers. Her dark hair was pinned neatly, and the royal sapphire rested against her neck. She looked exactly like what Aurelia expected its future queen to look like. Perfect. Elara, on the other hand, had never felt particularly royal. She was wearing a pale gold gown that Queen Celeste had chosen for her, her dark hair falling loosely around her shoulders. Isabella smiled. “You look beautiful.” “So do you.” “I always look beautiful.” Elara turned around. “There. That sounds more like you.” Isabella laughed. For a moment, everything felt normal. Safe. Familiar. Then the palace bells rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Elara’s smile disappeared. “That isn’t part of the celebration.” “No,” Isabella said quietly. The doors opened. A palace guard stood there, his face unusually tense. “Your Highnesses, His Majesty requests your presence in the great hall.” Elara exchanged a look with Isabella. “Why?” she asked. The guard hesitated. “His Majesty is feeling unwell.” The celebration continued despite the news. That was what Elara found most disturbing. The musicians kept playing. Servants continued carrying trays of food. Nobles continued laughing. But beneath all of it was an unmistakable whisper. The king was ill. Elara entered the great hall and immediately found her father near the throne. King Alaric Valmont stood taller than most men in the room, even at fifty-two. He had always seemed impossible to frighten. Until today. His face was pale. Queen Celeste stood beside him, one hand resting against his arm. “Father?” Alaric looked toward her. For one strange second, his expression changed. Not relief. Not happiness. Fear. Elara stopped. “Father?” “I am fine.” His voice was steady, but his eyes weren’t. Celeste turned toward the guests. “The king simply needs some rest. Please continue enjoying the celebration.” A few nobles nodded. The musicians began playing again. Elara didn’t move. Her father looked at her as though he had just seen a ghost. Then he suddenly stumbled. Gasps filled the hall. “Father!” Elara rushed forward. Adrian Laurent, Crown Prince of Varelia, reached him almost at the same time. He caught the king before he fell. “Get the physician!” Queen Celeste ordered. The room erupted into chaos. Servants hurried forward. Guards cleared a path. Isabella took Elara’s hand, but Elara barely felt it. Her eyes were fixed on her father. “Father, please.” Alaric’s breathing was uneven. He looked at Isabella. Then at Celeste. Then back at Elara. “Everyone out,” Celeste ordered. “No.” Elara stepped forward. “I want to stay.” “Elara” “I said I want to stay.” For once, her mother didn’t argue. The physician rushed into the room. As he examined the king, Elara stood beside the bed, her heart pounding. Her father reached for her hand. His fingers were cold. “Elara.” “I’m here.” His eyes opened. There was something in them she had never seen before. Regret. Fear. Perhaps even guilt. “Listen to me.” Elara leaned closer. “What is it?” Alaric looked toward the door. The physician was speaking quietly with the queen. Adrian stood several feet away, watching. Then Alaric whispered something that made the world beneath Elara’s feet seem to disappear. “You were never supposed to find out.” Elara froze. “Find out what?” Her father’s eyes widened. He tried to speak again, but the physician suddenly stepped forward. “His Majesty needs rest.” “No.” Elara looked at her father. “What did you mean?” Queen Celeste grabbed her arm. “Elara, come with me.” “No.” “Elara.” “What was he talking about?” Celeste’s face hardened. “Not here.” Elara pulled her arm free. “What does that mean?” Nobody answered. Not her mother. Not the physician. Not even Adrian. Especially not Adrian. Elara looked at him. He had been watching her the entire time. And when their eyes met, something passed across his face. Recognition. Not surprise. Recognition. As if he already knew exactly what her father had meant. That frightened her more than anything. Later that night, the palace was unusually quiet. The birthday decorations still covered the halls, but the celebration had ended hours ago. Elara stood alone in her room, staring at the small cake that had been delivered earlier. She hadn’t touched it. She couldn’t stop thinking about her father’s words. You were never supposed to find out. Find out what? That question had followed her everywhere. She walked to the window. The palace gardens were dark beneath the moonlight. For twenty-one years, she had believed she knew who she was. Princess Elara Valmont. Daughter of King Alaric and Queen Celeste. Younger sister of the future queen. A princess who would never have to worry about a crown. A princess who had always been told she was lucky because she had been born into a family that loved her. But tonight, for the first time, Elara wondered whether every word of that story was true. A sound came from the corridor. She turned. Footsteps. Slow. Careful. Someone stopped outside her door. Elara held her breath. The handle moved. But the door didn’t open. After a few seconds, the footsteps disappeared. Elara waited. Then she quietly opened her door. The corridor was empty. She looked toward the end of the hallway. A shadow disappeared around the corner. Someone was walking toward the king’s private study. Elara frowned. At this hour? She followed. She moved silently through the dark corridor until she reached the study. The door was slightly open. Light spilled through the narrow gap. Elara stepped closer. Inside, someone was searching through her father’s desk. She couldn’t see the person’s face. But she heard a drawer being opened. Then another. The stranger suddenly stopped. As though they had found exactly what they were looking for. Elara took one step forward. The floorboard creaked. The stranger turned. Elara’s heart slammed against her chest. And before she could see their face The study door swung shut. Someone had been looking for a secret about her.