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My head jerked up, and I rested my gaze on the worn binding.
I couldn’t be sure, not without more proof, and saying it aloud to Mirielle would make me sound like a lunatic, but I had seen Audrina’s photograph before, when she was a much younger girl, long before she had become a mother.
The repercussions of what I was holding in my hand were haunting and unbelievable.
“It’s her diary,” Mirelle squealed, a tattered page falling out as she opened it.
I scooted over to grab it as Mirelle thumbed through the book, dizziness overtaking me. I couldn’t fully identify the single emotion I was feeling, all of them piling on me at once.
“It’s from when she was a girl!” Mirielle said, gesturing in awe at the scrawl. “I think she was writing a story.” She laughed. “Oh, it’s so cute.”
I only half listened to what she was saying, my eyes trained on the paper I had unfolded in front of me, my breath completely stopped now.
“Listen to this,” Mirielle went on. “‘Today, Daddy told me to dress for lunch with the queens of Mystara. I thought that was funny because Mommy is the Queen of everything!’” She chuckled. “Isn’t that cute?”
I flopped back from my haunches onto my behind and stared at the family tree in my hands, the blood draining from my face. Going back dozens of generations, I knew what I was staring at was true.
“Holy shit…” I mumbled, but Mirielle was too wrapped up in her mother’s old journals to hear me.
“Here’s another one: ‘I’m scared because Daddy says we might not live in the castle anymore. He says that we’re not allowed to be royal anymore. I don’t know where we’ll live if that’s true…’”
She raised her head, her smile fading slightly. “She writes really convincingly for a little girl,” she muttered, turning her eyes back to the page. “She has me scared for her.”
Her head whipped back up to look at me, and she gasped. “You’re white as a ghost!”
Mirielle’s voice changed, the lilt fading away, as if she realized that what she was reading was not the fiction she’d initially believed. “Zen, what is this?”
I raised my head and met her eyes warily, unsure of how to start.
Can this even be real? How did it happen? How did Audrina do it?
“Your mother…” I mumbled, trying desperately to recall my history lessons. “Audrina…”
Mirielle’s eyes narrowed, her gaze falling to the page on my lap now. “What is that?”
“Your family tree,” I muttered, thrusting it at her as I collected my thoughts.
Mirielle snatched it up and scanned it, disbelief painting her face.
“What is this?” she asked again. “What family tree? King Vercity? Queen Nelina? Is this some kind of joke?”
“It’s not a joke, Mirielle. It’s your bloodline… your royal bloodline.”
She scoffed skeptically. “Are you saying we’re related?” she squeaked, and I choked.
“No! No, of course not.”
“I don’t understand,” Mirielle insisted. “Explain it to me like I’m an idiot. What is going on?”
I swallowed and inhaled. “I never suspected, or I would have told you before.” I reached for her hand. “The Original family—what do you know about them?”
She shook her head, and I paused again, trying to recall the details as Mirielle’s eyes bugged. “What?!”
“For thousands of years, there was only one royal family,” I recited from memory, trying to recall it as if I were reading it in the textbook. “There was one Alpha King and his Queen. And then the uprising separated the world into three continents.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Mirielle almost yelled. “That was thousands of years ago.”
I nodded, squeezing her hand. “It was,” I agreed quickly. “But the Original family still maintained something of a figurehead status, a title of respect and honor among all the kingdoms, throughout all three continents and the world. The Original family used to travel from continent to continent, staying with different kings for months or sometimes years on end. They were royalty by name and status.”
