My mystery queen

The king?

I snapped my eyes open, gasping for breath, the raw fear of drowning still tightening in my chest. The world swam around me, my lungs burning, and I blinked rapidly to clear my vision. A pair of gray eyes were staring down at me, their intensity cutting through the fog in my mind. For a brief, disorienting moment, I wondered if I was dead. But no—those eyes were too full of worry, too real.

I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper. “Ah…” I croaked.

“Worry not. You are safe now,” a deep, calm voice said, and it took a second for my brain to catch up. Safe? I blinked again, taking in the man above me—dark hair clinging to his forehead, water dripping from his face. It hit me like a brick: **he** had saved me.

My eyes darted around, searching for the girl who had been with me earlier, but his large frame blocked most of my view. “Estelle?” I choked out, feeling the discomfort of being held in his arms, his grip firm but awkward now that I was awake. He cleared his throat and loosened his hold, giving me space to sit up.

“Your friend is not here,” he said, his eyes studying me cautiously, just as a group of armed men stormed into the room, surrounding us. My pulse quickened, already formulating a half-baked escape plan. If these guys were here to attack me, I’d have to—

“Your Majesty!” they all greeted in unison, and my train of thought screeched to a halt. I blinked in confusion.

"Your Majesty, are you alright?" A tall, chocolate-skinned man stepped forward, addressing my savior. And then it dawned on me, hitting me like a ton of bricks. I had just been saved by the **king**.

Oh. I screwed up.

“f**k!” I muttered, glancing between the two hunks of muscle towering over me. How had I gotten myself into this mess?

Well, let's process this. According to the book, Clarissa takes a stroll through the market, thinking it’s the route the king would follow. The dim-witted girl gets thirsty and sends both Estelle and Rose to fetch water from a nearby stream. Meanwhile, the king—already drunk out of his royal mind—decides to climb a coconut , tree because, apparently, even kings have cravings for their favorite fruit. He spots a snake, freaks out, and falls out of the tree. Estelle and Rose rush to him, drawn by the noise, and Estelle, with her herbal skills, saves him. She even sings to him. **Sings.** And that’s when it all spirals: he falls for her, starts a grand search for his “mystery queen,” and, well, the ridiculousness continues.

But I, Amira Ansaldo, was about to change that. There was no way I was going to let Estelle save the king and become queen. Nope. That was Clarissa’s role. She could have the throne, not Estelle. Or so I thought this morning. Now? Now, I wasn’t so sure.

---

I stood stiffly, watching as Clarissa shot daggers at me with her gaze, clearly expecting some sort of answer. How did I know she’d want to take a stroll today? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I read the letter her father sent her.

“I, I… I…” I stuttered, my brain lagging behind my mouth.

“Let it be, my lady. Perhaps it was just a guess,” Estelle chimed in, smiling like the sweet little saint she was. I rolled my eyes. As if I needed her to defend me.

“I agree. Speaking to this lowborn will only give me wrinkles, and how will I impress the king without my beauty?” Clarissa scoffed, her eyes widening in genuine horror at the thought. Of course, wrinkles were her greatest enemy.

It was a fact: beauty was the only power women of the old possessed, and I had to admit, as much as it grated on me, Clarissa was quite the beauty. Long, golden-blonde hair, nude lips, amber eyes—she was the textbook definition of a perfect royal bride. But then there was Estelle, and that girl was a problem. Dark, raven hair, bright blue eyes, rosy lips, and flawless pale skin. A striking beauty. Clarissa had her own brand of appeal, but Estelle? She was **dangerous**.

And, of course, there was Rose, who was beautiful too, in a softer way. I hadn’t realized how deep my insecurities ran until I stood among them. I’d always thought I was the prettiest of them all. Guess there’s always someone prettier.

We’d dressed Clarissa up to the nines today, and she looked every bit the future queen in her white gown. I rolled my eyes again at the ridiculousness of it. How on earth did women of the old world walk in those things? When she screamed, “Tighter!” as we pulled on the straps to make her waist look smaller, I thought I might gag.

Once she was satisfied, she got into the cart while Rose, Estelle, and I walked behind like common laborers. Four hefty men carried the cart, and two guards on horseback trailed behind us—probably to protect her precious majesty.

I huffed, wrestling with the layers of my own gown. This was bullshit. I deserved a cart, too. Every few steps, I sent a glare Clarissa’s way, silently cursing her for living the life that should’ve been mine. God, how I missed home.

When we reached the market, Clarissa stepped down, her head held high, and began to stroll through the bustling stands. We passed stalls selling food, accessories, and other trinkets when she suddenly stopped and snapped, “I feel thirst. Pass me the jar!”

Rose rushed to the horse, fetched the jar, and handed it to Clarissa, who opened it with the grace of a princess—only to find it empty.

“It’s finished!” she spat, her amber eyes blazing as she glared at Rose. I almost laughed. Of course, she was the one who finished it. We hadn’t had anything to drink since morning.

“Pardon us, my lady. I will fetch more water for you,” Estelle offered with her usual too-sweet smile.

I frowned, already seeing where this was heading. Oh no. Not today.

“And how would you do that? You’re blind!” Clarissa sneered, her words sharp enough to cut. Estelle’s smile faltered, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“My lady, I saw a stream nearby. I will accompany Estelle,” Rose said, trying to diffuse the situation.

“No!” I interjected, the word slipping out before I could stop it. Everyone turned to stare at me.

I cleared my throat. “I think Lady Clarissa should fetch the water herself.”

The shock on Clarissa’s face was priceless. “How dare you suggest I stoop to the level of a slave!” she snarled, raising her hand as if to strike me.

I stepped back, holding up my hands. “My lady, you misunderstand. The king will be by the stream.” I hoped she’d bite.

“How would you know?” one of the guards chimed in, his nose stuck firmly in our business.

“I… ah… I dreamt it,” I blurted, earning a round of laughter. Even Clarissa chuckled for a moment, before abruptly stopping and narrowing her eyes.

Without warning, she grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked. “You should be grateful I don’t have you whipped for your insolence,” she hissed.

“Lady Clarissa, pardon her!” Rose stepped in, trying to pull us apart. “What if the king arrives now?”

Clarissa took a deep breath, straightening herself, and dropped my hair. “Consider yourself lucky that I am in public.”

I rolled my eyes, rubbing my scalp. “Your majesty is so merciful.”

Clarissa ignored me, her attention back on the jar. "return soon,” she said, signaling for Estelle and Rose to fetch the water.

“Wait!” I shouted, earning more glares. “Clarissa, you should go yourself. Or at least go with them. I’ve heard rumors that the king frequents the stream. All I want is for Penopia to have a queen as wise and fair as you.”

Her frown deepened, suspicion clear in her gaze. “Rumors, you say?”

I nodded solemnly. “Rumors. I swear on Estelle’s mother’s grave.”

“Amaris, my mother is not dead,” Estelle said quietly, making me freeze.

“Oh.” Oops. “Then I swear on…” I started, but Clarissa cut me off.

“Speak again, and I will sell you to another master,” she snapped.

I swallowed hard. Alright. No changing her mind today.

But as I saw the opportunity arise, a drunk man staggered near us, and I gave him the lightest push, sending his wine flying all over Clarissa’s pristine gown.

“Are you mad!” she shrieked, her face turning red as her guards rushed to shove the drunkard away.

I barelymanaged to stifle my laugh as Clarissa's guards beat the man senseless, all the while she stood there, fuming like a volcano about to erupt.

“Are you alright, my lady?” one of the guards asked, his voice trembling with fear.

Without hesitation, Clarissa slapped him hard across the face. “Imbecile! What use are you if you cannot even protect me from a drunkard!” Her face was flushed with fury, her voice dripping with venom. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

“Oh, my lady,” Estelle said, rushing to her side with that sickening sweetness. “Even we, your slaves, have failed to serve you well.”

Kiss-up.

I couldn’t help it. I muttered under my breath, “Tch, what a suck-up.”

Clarissa’s eyes narrowed, but thankfully, she didn’t hear me clearly. “My dress is ruined!” she hissed. “How will the king find me beautiful now?”

This time, I couldn’t resist. “Oh dear,” I said, feigning concern. “How will the king find a filthy and careless girl fit to be his queen?”

“Amaris!” Clarissa barked, her voice vibrating with barely contained rage. I pretended to flinch, batting my eyelashes innocently. “I suggest we return at once,” Rose said quickly, trying to diffuse the tension before Clarissa actually strangle me.

“Yes, let’s get it cleaned at the stream before the stain becomes permanent,” Estelle added, and for once, the girl actually had a good idea. Probably the only smart thing she’d said all day.

“Yes, my lady,” I chimed in, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t want someone else to take your place as the queen just because of a little stain.”

Clarissa’s sharp gaze shot to me, her amber eyes flashing with indignation. She stepped forward, her voice low and threatening. “I will not be bested by some peasant girl,” she spat, her tone icy.

Estelle shifted uncomfortably, her gaze dropping to the ground as Clarissa motioned for her to follow. “Estelle, come along.”

But I wasn’t done yet. “Actually, my lady,” I said sweetly, “perhaps Rose should accompany you. After all, Estelle is blind. She’s, well... useless, right?”