The Seventh Queen

CHAPTER TWO — THE ROAD TO WHAT I DID NOT CHOOSE

(Ella’s POV)

The night swallowed the village behind me as the guards lifted me into the wooden carriage. I didn’t fight—not because I accepted any of this, but because my body felt too heavy to move. My mind was still stuck in the moment I saw that glowing mark on my skin.

The symbol had faded now, leaving only a faint golden outline.

But I could still feel it, like a heartbeat beneath my flesh.

The Seer climbed into the carriage with me, sitting across on the opposite bench. The guards closed the door. The moment the latch clicked, I felt my fate seal with it.

The carriage jerked forward.

I stared at my hands, trying not to cry.

I had promised myself when I was young that I wouldn’t cry in front of strangers. But gods, the fear pressed on my chest like a stone.

The Seer watched me for a long moment. Her silver-braided hair shimmered in the lamp they placed above us. Her eyes were too calm for my panic.

“You breathe too fast,” she said. “You’ll faint.”

I swallowed hard but didn’t answer.

I didn’t trust my voice.

The wheels rolled over uneven ground. Every bump jolted my thoughts loose, making the night feel unreal.

Inside the carriage was quiet, except for the distant hooves of the horses pulling us. No one told me what would happen. No one told me why the mark chose me, a girl with no family, no name, no power.

Finally, I found my voice.

“Why me?” I whispered.

The Seer tilted her head. “You saw the mark, child. It doesn’t choose wrong.”

“That doesn’t answer anything,” I muttered, surprising myself. Normally I never talked back. But nothing about tonight felt normal.

She sighed, almost tired. “You want the truth? The mark appears only when the Seven must be completed.”

“The Seven,” I repeated quietly. “But that’s a story.”

Her eyes sharpened.

“No. It is a warning.”

A chill slid down my spine.

Everyone in my village knew the tale—the Seven maidens chosen to protect the throne, each bearing a mark. Some were crowned. Some were sacrificed. Nobody knew which fate awaited them until the end of the Trials.

But those were myths.

Legends.

Not reality.

Not something that should’ve happened to me.

“Why now?” I asked.

“Because the magic is waking again,” she said. “And something has disturbed the ancient balance.”

“Something?” I echoed. “Or someone?”

Her gaze drifted toward the dark window of the carriage.

“The King.”

My breath caught. “The King disturbed it?”

“The King,” she repeated, “is not who the kingdom believes he is.”

The carriage dipped into a deep silence after that — heavy, suffocating, full of shadows I didn’t understand.

I leaned back, eyes burning, mind racing.

The mark chose me.

The palace wanted me.

And now, even the King was somehow tangled in all of this.

I didn’t know whether to be terrified or angry.

Maybe both.

After a long while, the Seer spoke again, softer this time.

“You’re frightened,” she said.

I glared at her. “Should I not be?”

Something in her eyes flickered — not sympathy, not pity — something older, something tired.

“Fear is good,” she said. “It means you still value your life.”

She paused.

“But you must understand something before we arrive.”

I waited, breath unsteady.

“You are leaving your old life behind,” she said gently. “You cannot return to Ristorn. Not now. Not ever.”

The words hit me like a punch.

Not ever.

Ristorn wasn’t perfect — but it was mine. The fields, the broken houses, the dusty air, the laughter of children, the smell of warm bread from Mama Ruwa’s kitchen… all the little things that made my life simple.

Now they were memories.

Just memories.

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly freezing despite the blanket they offered.

“What happens when we reach the Obsidian Palace?” I asked quietly.

For the first time, the Seer hesitated.

“There are six girls already inside,” she said. “You will be the seventh.”

“And then?”

Her voice dropped into something cold.

“Then the Trials begin.”

My heart stuttered. “Trials? What kind of—”

“You will learn soon enough.”

She turned her head away, ending the conversation.

I stared at the lantern-lit roof of the carriage, trying not to tremble.

Trials.

The Seven.

The King.

My glowing mark.

And a palace waiting at the end of the road, eager to swallow me.

Tonight I was nobody.

Tomorrow… I might be something terrible.

The wind outside howled as we rode deeper into the night.

Whatever waited for me in that palace—

it was no longer a story.

It was real.

And it was coming.