Queen Elara's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Elara stepped into the garden where the great pink bloom stood taller than any guest. She was sixteen. Her hands were steady. One day she would wear a crown that ruled the oldest magic of this land, and she already moved like someone who knew it. At her wrist hung a small charm that held the light of her grandfather, the first emperor. When she tilted it, his thin image rose from the metal, robed and quiet. She did not show it to anyone. It reminded her what the cost of ruling looked like. Across the path stood a dark iron crown on a pedestal, the old First Crown of this kingdom, set out for the gathered families to see. A boy stood beside it with his arms crossed. He was studying it the way a builder studies a cracked wall. "It's heavier than it looks," he said, without turning. "I lifted it once. They didn't like that." Elara stopped beside him. "You're Aldric." "And you're the girl they keep pointing at." He looked at her then. Plain eyes. No performance. "They want us to marry. You should know that before someone says it kindly." Elara closed her hand around the charm at her wrist. She did not flinch. She nodded once, and in that nod she accepted the shape of the rest of her life.