Elf_Lady

“You are the lucky chosen one.” The woman said, putting forth a hand to her. Who was she? Abhilasha wondered how could she breathe so well under water? The lady smiled and held her hand, “come to me. I know where you must go. Let me lead."

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“I dreamed once again of that man. 
I think now I can  only meet him in a dream , that is where we might as well be better. There are some loves, who don’t have name, shape or even existence in your reality—but they are just as much real to you.
No one expected me to get up and speak and smile and work as I once did. Neither did I expect to be back in this world. 
A world that has snatched away everything I possibly once held precious 
for.”

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Abhilasha had grown up disliking this river, but this river—the river had taken her to depth of life.
She can’t tell now, after waking up from her long sleep. Looking around her, the life had been on race. Time had passed. She was not here, she was somewhere in this big world. A world that was as real as hers—but now she can’t tell weather it was all just a dream or was there something more in this.
Did she really travelled across the universe, or was it just her mind?

Palace pages

Before walking back she looked at the castle.

This huge structure loomed over two lovers with no fate together, yet here they were, still together, and they would be for a long time to come.

"An exiled Queen is still a Queen," she repeated to herself and made her way back. Back to the castle, overshadowed by the grand palace.

She reminded herself that she was fortunate enough to have a roof, an attendant, food, a bed, and clothes—whenever the insult would prick her heart.

She had been pronounced guilty of a crime she did not commit and exiled from royal life for three years.

In months of marriage, she only saw her Groom's face two nights. And him, why would he bother seeing her face, with so many other royal princess and Concubines that came along in this marriage.

Now here she was exiled into old castle on the outskirts.

It was not a big deal; she was never truly a royal, nor did she wish to be one. But what stung her was the way people smirked, laughed, and grinned at her disgrace. Women who climbed the ladder of status by putting others down—what could be expected of them?

She walked down the shaded path, past the garden.

She looked behind her; he had not followed but instead waited at the garden's edge.

She glanced back at him, silently promising that she would return as soon as she could, back as the Queen of this land.

"An exiled Queen is still a Queen," she repeated in her mind.

She turned her shoulder away from him, but she could still feel the warmth of his smile. The smile of a man you love—it could sometimes heal many worries, she noted to herself.

Her attendant, lost in her own worry, brightened up when she saw Abhilasha return.

"You are back, my lady. It is good to see you!" she said.

Abhilasha smiled—a smile that could surface even in distress because she knew she had someone who stood with her.

"Dress me up," she said.

It was a phrase the attendant had not heard in four months. Abhilasha had stopped dressing up entirely. There was no point in looking like a queen when she was no longer one.

The attendant smiled. "With pleasure, my lady," she said. "Please sit here for me. Let me adorn you as the most beautiful and brave lady in the land of Tarish."

"No. Decorate me as the Queen of Tarish."

Overwhelmed with joy and tears, the attendant agreed. Her once-lethargic movements gained energy and urgency.

She opened Abhilasha's hair and brushed through it, the scent infused into every shiny strand.

As Abhilasha looked at herself in the mirror,

she thought, 'Even if death comes for my friend, I shall not leave him to die as a scapegoat. I shall stand by him.'

She regretted walking away from him that day.

All he had done was confess his feelings, but that should not have stopped her from caring for him.

Had she not turned away from him, would he have taken such a drastic step?

That day, she did not know he was making such a great sacrifice, nor did he know he was merely falling for the trickery of those corrupt men—men who had no regard for integrity or honesty.

Seeing her attendant so happy, she forced a smile.

She wanted to savor this moment, uncertain if she would get another.

This was something big; she was going to take this step anyway.

"I would have proposed to you for marriage, but you are a Queen," he had said. "But know one thing, and always remember it when you think of me. I loved you, Your Highness."

Becoming a Queen