The Oppressed Queen

I was summoned to my father’s study unexpectedly. I knock on the thick oak doors and wait for a response. When the door swings open, I step into the room, looking around. I see my father sitting at the head of the table with three open folders in front of him. The squire who opened the door for me scurried out and closed the door in his wake. “Mira, it is time you chose a suitor to marry,” my father said. Here are the four eldest heirs of each realm. Kyro Cloudspire of the Stork, Calder Aquilion of Qador, Ignacio Vengor of Gorthen, and Geo Stoneheart of Shaden. “May I have five days to consider my options?” “If you must,” my father grumbled. I curtsy to him and leave the room. If he had asked me three years ago, I would have claimed Kyro without hesitation, but when my grandmother was dying last year, she made me promise her that I would contemplate my choices. My grandmother warned me that my father would summon me to choose a mate to marry, but warned me not to take the choice lightly, for our bloodline produces powerful magic, and in the wrong hands, it could be the end of everything. For generations, the power has been passed down through the mothers. When I began to show signs of possessing the great power, my grandmother taught me how to lock it away. She made me promise that I would keep it locked up until after my wedding. The great power skipped over my mother and aunts, leaving my grandmother the only one able to teach me how to wield such power. My grandmother was always serious when she spoke, so her words were never taken lightly. She’d summon me every two days to her chambers for us to practice and for me to learn everything she could teach me. When she became weak, she knew her time was near and handed me her leather-bound spellbook that was passed down through generations from mother to daughter, until her generation. In my case, it came from my grandmother. She instructed me to hide it well, to ensure no one could ever find it, even if they were searching for it. I did just that. As I walk down the corridor towards the great hall, I see Kyro carrying my sister in his arms. I watch as he tenderly whispers to her, his usually stern face seems softer as he gazes at her. Those cold blue eyes don’t look so icy; it’s been some time since he’s looked at me like that. His white hair is rustling in the air around him as it always does when he walks. He freezes and tenses when he sees me. “Mira, don’t interpret this wrong. Phoebe was at the market and twisted her ankle. I happened to be at the market and saw her. I know how much you care for her, so I instinctively helped her to my carriage and brought her here. I was just carrying her to the infirmary,” Kyro quickly explains. Phoebe presses herself closer to Kyro’s muscular chest, with a twisted expression of pain and pouting. Her golden blonde hair hangs loosely behind her, draping ever so delicately over his arms. “Are you okay, Phoebe?” I ask, forcing tenderness into my words. Her grey eyes meet mine, and I see a look of disappointment wash over her, before she masks it back up with her look of pain. “I will be. It truly hurts. I should have been paying more attention to where I was stepping. I didn’t see the missing cobblestone until it was too late,” Phoebe replied. Each word was laced with fake sadness, telling me this is just another one of her shows to prove she can have anyone she wants. “Kyro, take her to the infirmary at once. Sister, I will collect some herbs to make a tea for you to help with the pain,” I reply, pushing past them in a hurry. I know this game she’s playing, and seeing Kyro fall into her trap as my parents have time and time again, I see now why my grandmother warned me to contemplate my choices before making a decision. I never did care for Phoebe; she has gone out of her way to drive a wedge between me and anyone whom I care about since the day she arrived. Being the adopted child, you’d think my parents would take her word less than my own, but she has proven me wrong time and time again. Many years ago, Phoebe was found abandoned on the steps of the palace one early morning with a note claiming to be the true princess and heir to the Xen throne. The note explained that a wet nurse had swapped the princess with her own child to ensure her child had a better life. My parents fell for it like they were bewitched. They began giving me chores as a maid would do, until my grandmother returned from her journey abroad. She observed this behavior and ordered a test. The test was that only those of Valariel blood could touch the stone of power and cause it to glow. As soon as my hand touched the stone, the stone released a blinding light, telling my grandmother how powerful I was going to be. When Phoebe touched the stone, we expected it to remain cold and grey, but instead it gave off a faint glow. It caused chaos within the palace and realm until my parents declared that Phoebe had proven to be a Valariel and would remain in the palace as one of their children. Grandmother never figured out how Phoebe fooled even the stone, but a part of me has always wondered if she used blood from either me, my mother, or grandmother mixed with her own blood when she touched the stone. Outside, I walk down to the conservatory where all the fresh herbs are grown in the greenhouse. I select the herbs that help reduce swelling and ease pain, tie them with a piece of twine, and bring them inside to the infirmary. At one point last year, I refused to help Phoebe, only for her to cry fake tears to our parents, claiming I was being cruel and unjust for no reason, which led to them punishing me. To avoid unnecessary tension and punishment, I do the bare minimum to appease Phoebe. I enter the infirmary, hand the herbs I freshly picked for Phoebe to the healer, then step closer to her bed. “I picked herbs to help reduce swelling,” I inform her. “Hopefully it’ll help ease your pain.” “You are very kind, thank you,” Phoebe said softly. I curtsied to my mother and Kyro before leaving the infirmary. From there, I returned to the greenhouse to select herbs that I needed to use in a healing elixir. No one knows that I have the knowledge to make such elixirs, but I promised my grandmother that I would continue to build my supply until my wedding day. It is going to be used for my dowry, in which I give a large array of elixirs to my future husband as a gift. Once I know who I’m going to choose, I need to select a gift for his parents and two more for him, as is the custom. Once I have my fresh herbs selected, I hurriedly bring them to my bedchambers, where I unlock my second wardrobe and string them up to dry. Once all my herbs are strung up to dry, I check the status of the other herbs I have drying in the wardrobe. I pull down the ones that are thoroughly dried and begin grinding them into a powder in a mortar and pestle before putting the powder into a container. With everything done, I locked up the wardrobe once more, putting the key back in its hiding place. I exit my room with my mind set on strolling around the property until it is time for dinner. It feels as though the afternoon has been dragging by ever since my father told me I have to choose a husband. I wish to keep busy, but if I spend too much time in my chambers, I’ll be telling people I have things in there I don’t want others to see, which causes curiosity and opportunities for others, such as Phoebe, to enter my chambers without permission or warrant to riffle through things. I have learned quite a bit since Phoebe entered our lives and successfully made others believe that she is truly family. At dinner, I sit silently at a table across from Kyro and Phoebe, with my mother and father on opposite ends. I keep my eyes trained on my plate, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. I want to get through this meal without a Phoebe show. As soon as my father finished eating, he stood up and left the dining room, signaling that dinner was finished. I silently rose from my seat and slipped out of the room just as quickly as my father had. I stroll around the grounds of the estate to allow my body time to digest before I go into my bed chamber for the night. I also want time to let everyone go about their business to avoid any interruptions.