Chapter One (1.1)

Today was not the best day to be alive.

Lyia's eyes came into sharp focus as a deep breath escaped her mouth. Her breathing then became ragged, as she reached for her basin full of water. Without a moment's hesitation, she drank from it. It wasn't drinking water, but Lyia didn't mind. Her throat was too sore to care.

It was when Lyia's heartrate went down that she became worried. The moon was still shining, day had yet to come. Baisley was asleep in her chambers, there was no need to arise her.

Lyia shook her head. It was just another nightmare. Nothing to be afraid of. Everything in that dream was false. Imagined. She needed to tell her mother that the therapy sessions weren't working. Then she remembered that her mother was dead.

Maybe that nightmare wasn't as fake as she thought.

Lyia reached for the bell to signal her maid. Did she really want to bother her? No, Baisley needed sleep. She had a tough day ahead of her. As did Lyia.

She climbed out of bed and went onto her balcony. That always calmed her down. Well, at least when her parents were alive. She ignored the guards marching in their usual routine, keeping the castle safe, and her eyes trailed out to the unknown. Places beyond the palace.

Of course, she had ventured past her own walls. Lyia loved seeing her citizens in the town. But the other towns and the vast city of Coniford were all in pictures and fantasy tales.

Maybe when she became queen she could explore her entire kingdom. But for the moment, she had to be content with her small castle and her small town.

Lyia felt a chill and decided to recede back to her room. She closed the doors quietly, and the guards continued their endless march. Lighting a candle in the dim room, Lyia searched for a key. Finding the right one, she went to her dresser and fit the key in the hidden compartment.

The drawer slid open with difficulty due to the number of items in it. The top book was the most recent, part of her mother's will. It was one of her many journals. Lyia was given it only a week ago, yet she had read every entry multiple times.

All the same, she opened it up to a random page and began to read.

The Sixth month of Harvest,

Today was such a wondrous day. A day full of pain, but a day always worth remembering. Today, my husband and I had our first child. The light to our world. We were afraid he wouldn't live, yet he is strong and healthy. Our family will be notified of his birth tomorrow.

And after many months of debate, we finally decided on a name perfect for the future child. Just thinking about our son caring for me when my husband no longer can gives me chills.

His name is Toran, which means chief, or leader. It a perfect fit for our little boy, not only describing what he will become, but furthering our alliance with the small isle to the north. He has those soft brown eyes of his father, and my auburn hair. As momentous as this occasion is, I am finding myself having a lack of much else to say. I will write more tomorrow.

Lyia was biting her lip in sweetness. There was an entry for every child born, but Toran's hit Lyia harder than all the others, even more than her own.

Hidden in the journal on the most devastating entry was a few letters from Toran. When he was seventeen, and decided to go traveling with his friends. Lyia found her heart aching so much for his return.

Lyia didn't need to open any of the letters. She had them memorized by heart. The only thing that made her sad was the fact that they weren't written for her. Four letters, one to each child and each parent. But not Lyia. During his entire stay, he had only written one letter to her. An apology letter.

But, after reading it once, in her anger, she burned it, and all that remained were the searing words in her head and heart that she never believed, I'm sorry.

Two months later, Toran came home, and a week after that he was dead.

Those words burned Lyia's throat. She forced the tears in, closing the journal. Toran was supposed to be put on the throne in the morning, but due to his early demise, it was Lyia who had the kingdom thrust upon her shoulders.

Lyia gazed out her window, the hidden tears pouring down her cheeks. The sun was starting to rise. The maids were shuffling around the palace, the guards going into the castle, and preparations began.

Lyia hastily stuffed her mother's journal into the compartment, and slid it shut. The key turned, and Lyia had just enough time to hide it before Baisley came in, carrying Lyia's coronation dress. Lyia's back was still turned, and she quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned to look at the dress.

If Lyia had anything in her hand, it would've slipped out. The dress was beautiful. As the princess, Lyia had the luxury of many silk dresses, but the one in Baisley's arms was beyond description.

"Is that . . ." Lyia trailed off. She already knew the answer. Though she was still shocked.

"It was your mother's coronation dress. I had to do a few alterations, but it was in your mother's will, so I thought I would fix it. I'm sorry if you don't like it."

Lyia smiled, then brought Baisley into a big hug. "I love it. You're so nice. Are you sure the people will be alright with me wearing the same dress that my mother did?" When she pulled back, Baisley was blushing. "Never mind. A dress is a dress, and it's lovely. Let's get ready."

Baisley started by pouring a fresh bath for Lyia. While she was bathing, Baisley changed the bed and pulled out certain cosmetics. Lyia finished, and they got to work.

They started with the hair. Like her father, she had black hair, and if it grew long enough, it curled beautifully. Her father kept his hair short, naturally. Lyia's was long and wavy.

Baisley began by braiding it, then doubted herself and changed the idea.

"What do you think of a braid the sweeps into a bun, with a few strands of hair sticking out?" Lyia envisioned it and agreed. In less than ten minutes, her hair looked exactly as Baisley said it would.

Lyia didn't want much makeup on her skin, she would be alright with just some lipstick and blush. When Lyia said this, Baisley shook her head and said she needed much more than that.

"I'm not wearing anything more." Baisley continued urging Lyia until she finally gave in, and a whole plethora of makeup was pasted on her face.

"What about jewelry?" Baisley asked, shutting the blush. Lyia thought. Every year on her birthday, she received a new necklace, accompanied with earrings. Lyia didn't expect a present this year, but maybe . . .

"Is there a chance my parents picked out my present before they died?"

Baisley smiled. "I'm not sure. I'll go check." Pausing to make sure a guard was at her door, Baisley slipped out.

Glad to be alone for a few minutes, Lyia turned the mirror to her face and stared at it. She knew she was pretty, and makeup only added to it. Along with her gorgeous black hair, she had her mother's eyes. Green. It was an odd combination; it would've made much more sense if she had her mother's auburn hair.

And despite how well her life seemed on the outside, Lyia's eyes looked scared and hollow. Mistrustful. Lyia's heart was full of pain, and nothing could make it feel better. Unless everyone she'd lost could come back to life. Her parents and her brother were just some of them.

Before Lyia could delve any deeper into her troubles, Baisley entered in, a wrapped gift in her hand. Lyia felt brief happiness fill her chest. They remembered.

"There's a gift for every child's next birthday. They were ready for anything." Baisley carefully handed the package to Lyia. The princess treated it like if she squeezed it even slightly, it would be destroyed.

Gingerly, she tore the paper off the package, and found two boxes. One for the necklace, the other for the earrings. She didn't know how to differentiate the two, so she started with the top one.

It was the earrings. Gasping softly, Lyia realized they were made of pure gold. They were golden feathers. These earrings were Lyia's favorites, despite her gratitude for every other gift she received from her parents. She already knew what she was wearing. Lyia put the earrings in.

Baisley's mouth was open in awe as she whispered, "They're the prettiest things I've ever seen." Lyia smiled, enjoying the praise. Baisley was a perfect lady-in-waiting. Lyia took a deep breath. Time to open the necklace.

The necklace was so simple compared to the earrings. Yet worth just as much.

On a plain golden chain was a circular disk. Engraved on its surface was a quote.

While we have been through much,

We can only grow stronger.

Baisley glanced at it. "It's so sweet." Lyia loved the fact that they used "we" instead of "I." It helped Lyia not feel so lonely. Glancing at her medallion she was thinking of wearing previously, she hooked the chain around her neck.

"Lyia," Baisley breathed. "It's perfect." Lyia smiled, and for the first time in a while, she felt genuinely happy. All that was left was the dress and the shoes.

Baisley was a great maid, and she was also a great seamstress. The alterations she made to the dress were spotless. It fit perfectly. And the shoes she chose to go with it matched nicely.

At last, Lyia was ready, and she still had time to spare. "Thank you, Baisley," Lyia said, taking one last look in the mirror. "I have one last favor."

Baisley curtsied. "It would be my greatest pleasure, your highness." Lyia closed her eyes to avoid rolling them. Baisley was the closest friend Lyia had since . . . she'd rather not think about it. Since the betrayal. Lyia sighed, keeping her composition.

"Baisley, you don't need to call me 'your highness.' Lyia is much more suitable. But, back to my request, could you retrieve my siblings? And their servants." Baisley nodded and left the room.