“So we staged your death,” Roosep said, his eyes downcast, and his shoulders folded inward. “We let the entire kingdom believe that you had died, and they rejoiced.”
Knowing they could never again see their daughter as the princess, they entrusted the help of a male who’d been under their employment for hundreds of full seasons. He was abrilliant inventor, honest, kind, and hard-working, but he and his wife were childless. They’d never been able to conceive, even though they loved children fiercely and had always prayed to one day be blessed with their own.
In return for their bargain-bound silence and the momentous task they were undertaking, the king and queen provided for them and gave them their daughter. The princess and the trusted couple were sent away to live in the wilds of the Clawfur Mountains, far away from any fae who the child could hurt, but everything the couple could ever want was granted.
The couple took on the task gladly, if slightly fearfully, as they both knew they would be subject to the child’s tantrums and whims. But they endeavored to treat her with kindness and love, to allow her to grow and mature, and not to whisper behind her back that she was a monster.
Instead, as the seasons passed, they taught the young princess how to control her magic. They taught her the importance of never inflicting her great power on those around her. They taught her to be kind and mindful.
And under their studious care, the child matured and learned, and she grew out of her childish antics and began to understand the burden she’d been born with. And with their tutelage, she endeavored to control her impulses, to not lash out, to not control or hurt those around her.
The couple’s patient and loving demeanor and the absence of the capital’s hatred and scorn allowed the child to flourish.
And when the princess reached eight summers, the couple believed that she’d learned enough not to be a risk to those around her, so her adopted aunt and uncle moved her back to Whiteolf. Her uncle returned to work directly under the crown, and their close friends, Opalin and Roosep, began to visit them more frequently. They wanted to see the girl regularly because they wanted to watch her grow and thrive.
Yet for all of the summers that the girl was brought up by the couple, her true identity was never revealed.
It was too dangerous. Too risky.
Because someone of great power had wanted her dead. Someone had tried to kill her multiple times, and the king and queen feared that if her true identity was ever leaked, the assassins would return.
So the king and queen cared for her from afar and knew they could never claim her as their own, but they still loved her. Fiercely loved her. And they would take a relationship with her in whatever capacity they could get. Even if that relationship was posed as friends of the princess’s supposed aunt and uncle.
My heart was pounding sohard by the time Opalin finished her story, and my breaths turned so shallow that I could barely breathe.
Tears streamed down my face. The silky gown I wore grew stained with splotches of moisture, yet I kept my hands balled. Anything to contain the emotions that raced hotly through my blood.
I wasn’t an orphan.
I wasn’t a commoner.
I was a princess of Mistvale Kingdom, and sitting before me were my true parents.
Opalin’s eyes shone brightly, and Roosep’s hands were clenched so tightly together that his knuckles had gone white.
“You’re... That means that I’m...” But I couldn’t finish the sentence. I could barely believe what they were telling me.
Opalin stood and scooted around the table separating our couches. She sat down at my side, and Roosep did the same. They both put their arms around me.
I looked between the two of them, disbelief rendering me dumbstruck. “You’re my parents, and you’re also the king and queen of Mistvale Kingdom?”
Opalin nodded tightly. “We are.”
I shook my head. “But you don’t look like the king and queen.”
“That’s because of my illusion,” Opalin responded. In her next breath, a rush of magic cascaded around them.
The illusion that had been hiding their true appearances cracked into a million glittering sparks, and beside me sat two fae whom I’d grown up hearing about, watching at parades, admiring from afar, but had always thought I’d never know.
My jaw dropped. My unique magic could have seen right through Opalin’s illusion if I’d wanted to, just like I could shred through Shields, but I never inflicted my power upon loved ones, and I’d never suspected that they’d been lying to me. Not once had I ever thought that my supposed relative’s friends had things to hide since I’d trusted them.
But if Ihadexacted my magic, if Ihadtorn through Aunt Opalin’s illusion, I would have seen them for who they truly were.
Queen Oleander and King Russem sat at my sides. The simple yet fine attire they’d worn previously had disappeared.
Silky material bedecked in jewels encrusted Oleander’s bodice, while a finely woven wool waistcoat adorned Russem’s chest.
They both hugged me and cried, whispering their apologies and telling me that they hoped I would eventually forgive them.
