A/softly, opulent

Browser lacks capabilities required to play.

Upgrade or switch to another browser.

Loading…

<span class="title">Softly, Opulent</span> <span class="author">by <a href="https://yourtumblr.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">amanda</a></span>

<<nobr>> <<if $profileready is "set">><li>[[profile]]</li><</if>> <<if $relationships is "set">><li>[[relationships]]</li><</if>> <<if $metacharacter is "set">><li>[[character descriptions]]</li><</if>> <</nobr>>

<<set $bold to 50>><<set $shy to 50>>\ <<set $sarcastic to 50>><<set $genuine to 50>>\ <<set $reckless to 50>><<set $careful to 50>>\ <<set $charming to 50>><<set $stoic to 50>>\ <<set $cruel to 50>><<set $kind to 50>>\

/* custom widgets go in here */ <<widget "are">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>are<<case false>>is<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "were">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>were<<case false>>was<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "s">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "es">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>es<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "re">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>re<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "ve">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>ve<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>

<div class="profile1">$name's Profile.</div> <div class="profile3">you are a $person, and are $height in height. you have $hairlength, $hairstyle $haircolor hair, with $eyecolor eyes.</div> <i class="fa-solid fa-crown"></i> <div class="profile2">personality:</div> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Bold $bold%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Shy $shy%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Cruel $cruel%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Kind $kind%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left"> Sarcastic $sarcastic%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Genuine $genuine%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left"> Reckless $reckless%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Careful $careful%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left"> Charming $charming%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Stoic $stoic%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ <<button "Return" $return>><</button>> /* or <<link "Return" $return>><</link>> */

Another page to do whatever you want with! I really just wanted another page to fill out the footer menu<3 ---- !Heading 1 !!Heading 2 !!!Heading 3 <<cycle "$cycling" autoselect>> <<option "Cycling link 1">> <<option "Cycling link 2">> <<option "Cycling link 3">> <</cycle>> <<textbox "$textbox" "Type here...">><<button "Submit">><</button>> * List item 1 * List item 2 * List item 3 !!! Listbox: <<listbox "$listboxVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</listbox>> <<button "Return" $return>><</button>>

$flirt_label $info_label

When publishing to itch.io, you have a couple options for how to have your game display in mobile browsers. As a general rule, make sure to choose 'Click to launch in fullscreen' in the 'Embed options' section and click the checkbox to enable 'Mobile friendly' under the 'Frame options'. To force the game to always display in portrait mode on mobile, select 'Portrait' for the orientation. To display in landscape mode, select 'Landscape'. Easy peasy<3 Note: The latest update to the template has styling for both portrait and landscape modes for mobile, so have fun playing around with each to decide which option works best for your game!

<div class="center"> <<message 'View Feminine Name Suggestions.'>>\ Adele: Noble. Valencia: Strong. Ophelia: Help. <</message>> <<message 'View Masculine Name Suggestions.'>>\ Sebastian: Revered. Atlas: To Carry. Caspian: White. <</message>> <<message 'View Gender-Neutral Name Suggestions.'>>\ Imani: Faith. Darian: Possessing Goodness. Quinn: Wise. <</message>> <<textbox "$name" "">> <span class="next"><<button "Confirm." "creation2">><</button>></span> </div>

//Softly, Opulent// is a fantasy love story. <i class="fa-solid fa-crown"></i> The Queen dies the night you're born. And your family locks you away. All of King Adder's children are a mystery to the common folk, but you—you are nothing but a ghost. A ghost, that spends eighteen years locked away in the deepest part of the palace, so that no eyes may lay upon you. And those that do—they do not treat you kindly. And when you are finally of age, at last, you are betrothed to the child of the King of a far away kingdom, to secure an alliance that your father has been seeking for years. And you are swept away to a place even more foreign than your own land, to be wed to a stranger that looks at you with contempt. <i class="fa-solid fa-crown"></i> This story is in progress and will be updated when content is ready to be released. Check the tumblr blog for asks about characters and story, along with development posts. //CONTENT WARNINGS:// This game will touch upon many upsetting subjects and isn't suitable for those under 17. Some of the subjects inculde: child abuse, child neglect, assault, death, and mild sexual themes. There will be a warning at the beginning of each chapter, telling the player what it inculdes. <span class="next"><<button "Character Creation" "creation1">><</button>></span>

<div class="center"> //Choose Your Appearance.// !!! Eye Color: <<listbox "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "dark blue">> <<option "pale blue">> <<option "dark brown">> <<option "pale brown">> <<option "dark green">> <<option "pale green">> <<option "gray">> <</listbox>> !!! Hair Length: <<listbox "$hairlength" autoselect>> <<option "long">> <<option "medium">> <<option "short">> <</listbox>> !!! Hair Type: <<listbox "$hairstyle" autoselect>> <<option "straight">> <<option "wavy">> <<option "curly">> <<option "coiled">> <<option "braided">> <</listbox>> !!! Hair Color: <<listbox "$haircolor" autoselect>> <<option "black">> <<option "brown">> <<option "red">> <<option "blonde">> <</listbox>> !!! Height: <<listbox "$height" autoselect>> <<option "tall">> <<option "average">> <<option "short">> <</listbox>> <span class="next"><<button "Confirm" "rogenders">><</button>></span> </div>

<div class="center"> There are four romantic interests avaliable in //Softly, Opulent,// and all are gender selectable. Choose their genders now, as your relationship with them is the forefront of this story. Click [[here]] to choose their genders. <<if $gendersset is "set">>\ <span class="next"><<button "Pronouns." "pros">><</button>></span> <</if>> </div>

<div class="center"> !!! The Betrothed: <<listbox "$agender" autoselect>> <<option "man">> <<option "woman">> <</listbox>> !!! The Pirate Captain: <<listbox "$rgender" autoselect>> <<option "man">> <<option "woman">> <</listbox>> !!! The Shadow: <<listbox "$cgender" autoselect>> <<option "man">> <<option "woman">> <</listbox>> !!! The Tutor: <<listbox "$mgender" autoselect>> <<option "man">> <<option "woman">> <</listbox>> <span class="next"><<button "Check" "Check">><</button>></span> </div>

<<if $agender is "man">> The Betrothed, Aleksandar: He is the heir to the throne of Aslerea and your betrothed. But it's the last thing he wants to be. He seems to hold something against you. He is serious and spends hours upon hours training—he's preparing for something. His engagement to you is quite the hinder, but can you make him see it differently? His duty blinds him, but you can change that. <<else>> The Betrothed, Aleksandra: She is the heir to the throne of Aslerea and your betrothed. But it's the last thing she wants to be. She seems to hold something against you. She is serious and spends hours upon hours training—she's preparing for something. Her engagement to you is quite the hinder, but can you make her see it differently? Her duty blinds her, but you can change that. <</if>> <<if $rgender is "man">> The Pirate Captain, Rhys: He is a mystery. He is a pirate—the very embodiment of freedom and sea, yet he chooses to remain in the kingdom of Aslerea more often than not. He stands to gain something by being there, but you don't know what. There's something in you that tells you that you can't trust him, but his smile is so pretty, and his flirtation so constant that you want to. But maybe—just maybe, if you play your cards right—he will treat you as tenderly as his dearest treasure. <<else>> The Pirate Captain, Rhea: She is a mystery. She is a pirate—the very embodiment of freedom and sea, yet she chooses to remain in the kingdom of Aslerea more often than not. She stands to gain something by being there, but you don't know what. There's something in you that tells you that you can't trust her, but her smile is so pretty, and her flirtation so constant that you want to. But maybe—just maybe, if you play your cards right—she will treat you as tenderly as her dearest treasure. <</if>> <<if $cgender is "man">> The Shadow, Calix: He is your betrothed's younger brother, and so no one pays quite as much attention to him. Though he seems content in his sibling's shadow—content with his lack of responsibility—you can't help but wonder if there's more to it. He is as lazy as a bump on a log, and he likely sleeps more than anything else—but there's an interest in his eyes when he looks at you. Is it something deep, or just a longing to claim what his sibling has? You could find out. <<else>> The Shadow, Calixta: She is your betrothed's younger sister, and so no one pays quite as much attention to her. Though she seems content in her sibling's shadow—content with her lack of responsibility—you can't help but wonder if there's more to it. She is as lazy as a bump on a log, and she likely sleeps more than anything else—but there's an interest in her eyes when she looks at you. Is it something deep, or just a longing to claim what her sibling has? You could find out. <</if>> <<if $mgender is "man">> The Tutor, Mestrn: He is assigned as your tutor and tasked with the great undertaking of making you fit to lead. But he is also close with the people in the palace, and helps the servants when he can. He knows commoners by name and spends nights in the tavern, surrounded by free drinks. And while he is kind, there is something beneath it all that suggests a man that will go far to protect those he cares about. Whether it's because of his kind nature, or something else, he has no enemies. <<else>> The Tutor, Mestra: She is assigned as your tutor and tasked with the great undertaking of making you fit to lead. But she is also close with the people in the palace, and helps the servants when she can. She knows commoners by name and spends nights in the tavern, surrounded by free drinks. And while she is kind, there is something beneath it all that suggests a woman that will go far to protect those she cares about. Whether it's because of her kind nature, or something else, she has no enemies. <</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yes.</div>' 'rogenders'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No.</div>' 'here'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<set $gendersset to "set">> <<if $agender is "woman">>\ <li> <<set $ahe to "she">> </li> <<set $ahim to "her">> <<set $ahis to "hers">> <<set $aher to "her">> <<set $ahimself to "herself">> <<set $aHe to "She">> <<set $aHim to "Her">> <<set $aHis to "Hers">> <<set $aHer to "Her">> <<set $aHimself to "Herself">> <<set $aname to "Aleksandra">> <<set $ason to "daughter">> <<set $atitle to "Princess">> <<set $atitle2 to "princess">> <<set $ason to "daughter">> <</if>> <<if $agender is "man">>\ <li> <<set $ahe to "he">> </li> <<set $ahim to "him">> <<set $ahis to "his">> <<set $aher to "his">> <<set $ahimself to "himself">> <<set $aHe to "He">> <<set $aHim to "Him">> <<set $aHis to "His">> <<set $aHer to "His">> <<set $aHimself to "Himself">> <<set $aname to "Aleksandar">> <<set $atitle to "Prince">> <<set $atitle2 to "prince">> <<set $ason to "son">> <</if>> <<if $rgender is "man">>\ <li> <<set $rhe to "he">> </li> <<set $rhim to "him">> <<set $rhis to "his">> <<set $rher to "his">> <<set $rhimself to "himself">> <<set $rHe to "He">> <<set $rHim to "Him">> <<set $rHis to "His">> <<set $rHer to "His">> <<set $rHimself to "Himself">> <<set $rname to "Rhys">> <</if>> <<if $rgender is "woman">>\ <li> <<set $rhe to "she">> </li> <<set $rhim to "her">> <<set $rhis to "hers">> <<set $rher to "her">> <<set $rhimself to "herself">> <<set $rHe to "She">> <<set $rHim to "Her">> <<set $rHis to "Hers">> <<set $rHer to "Her">> <<set $rHimself to "Herself">> <<set $rname to "Rhea">> <</if>> <<if $mgender is "woman">>\ <li> <<set $mhe to "she">> </li> <<set $mhim to "her">> <<set $mhis to "hers">> <<set $mher to "her">> <<set $mhimself to "herself">> <<set $mHe to "She">> <<set $mHim to "Her">> <<set $mHis to "Hers">> <<set $mHer to "Her">> <<set $mHimself to "Herself">> <<set $mname to "Mestra">> <</if>> <<if $mgender is "man">>\ <li> <<set $mhe to "he">> </li> <<set $mhim to "him">> <<set $mhis to "his">> <<set $mher to "his">> <<set $mhimself to "himself">> <<set $mHe to "He">> <<set $mHim to "Him">> <<set $mHis to "His">> <<set $mHer to "His">> <<set $mHimself to "Himself">> <<set $mname to "Mestrn">> <</if>> <<if $cgender is "woman">>\ <li> <<set $che to "she">> </li> <<set $chim to "her">> <<set $chis to "hers">> <<set $cher to "her">> <<set $chimself to "herself">> <<set $cHe to "She">> <<set $cHim to "Her">> <<set $cHis to "Hers">> <<set $cHer to "Her">> <<set $cHimself to "Herself">> <<set $cname to "Calixta">> <<set $cson to "daughter">> <<set $ctitle to "Princess">> <<set $ctitle2 to "princess">> <<set $cson to "daughter">> <</if>> <<if $cgender is "man">>\ <li> <<set $che to "he">> </li> <<set $chim to "him">> <<set $chis to "his">> <<set $cher to "his">> <<set $chimself to "himself">> <<set $cHe to "He">> <<set $cHim to "Him">> <<set $cHis to "His">> <<set $cHer to "His">> <<set $cHimself to "Himself">> <<set $cname to "Calix">> <<set $ctitle to "Prince">> <<set $ctitle2 to "prince">> <<set $cson to "son">> <</if>>

<<set $They to "They">><<set $plural to true>>\ <<set $title to "prin">><<set $plural to true>>\ !!! Pronouns: *<<link "She/Her">><<set $They to "She">><<set $plural to false>><<update>><</link>> *<<link "He/Him">><<set $They to "He">><<set $plural to false>><<update>><</link>> *<<link "They/Them">><<set $They to "They">><<set $plural to true>><<update>><</link>> !!! Title: *<<link "Princess">><<set $title to "princess">><<update>><</link>> *<<link "Prince">><<set $title to "prince">><<update>><</link>> *<<link "Prin">><<set $title to "prin">><<update>><</link>> <<liveblock>> $They <<are>> a $title. <</liveblock>> <span class="next"><<button "Begin" "prologue">><</button>></span>

<<liveblock>> $They <<are>> pitiful and hate<<s>> the world. $Their hair swayed behind $them. $They smiled back, over $their shoulder. $They <<are>> beautiful, that's all Amanda can say. <</liveblock>>

The storm is raging outside and King Adder ushers his children into one room and worries, worries because of the four children they already have, the process has never been this difficult before. He gives Abrin to Dalia and then shuts the door on them, hurrying back to the largest bedroom in the palace, where Elle's screams echo around the four walls. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro3">><</button>></span>

The court physician hovers over Elle's tense form, a hand on her shoulder that clearly does nothing to soothe her pain. "Move!" Adder swipes the older man away, and he goes obediently to watch Elle's progress, not a word. "Elle, I'm here. Can you see me?" The beautiful woman reaches up and grasps bloody fingers at Adder's pristine nightshirt. He takes her wrist and holds it in an attempt at support. "I can…" Her voice is but a whisper, and then she screams again. "I can see a head, Your Majesty!" The physician calls over a maid with a warm towel. "Just a bit more, and this will all be over, I assure you!" Elle doubles her efforts, desperate both to hold her child and be rid of the pain. Adder kisses the back of her hand, and his mouth comes away bloody. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro4">><</button>></span>

High-pitched wails fill the room and Elle's head falls back, her body exhausted. The physician uses the damp towel to clean the child as best as possible, wrapping the squirming creature in a bundle to lay on the Queen's heaving chest. "The child is healthy, Your Majesty." Elle pulls her hand away from Adder to trace the cheek of the child, a serene smile curling her lips. "Adder…" The King leans closer to watch, rubbing the back of Elle's neck gently. "Yes, I'm here. What is it?" "You know what name I want to use, yes…?" Elle's breathing is weak, and her words take much out of her. "Calm yourself and get some rest. You may tell me in the morning." Adder moves to take the new baby from her, but she holds tight. "No!" Elle gasps, "No, let me tell you the name…" The physician clears his throat. "Your Majesty, the bleeding...." He frowns. "It won't cease." "What!?" Adder snaps his head toward the old man for only a moment, then returns his attention to Elle. "Elle, look me in the eye. You're alright, aren't you?" "$Their name…" Elle whispers again, and your name is the last word she ever says. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "prol">><</button>></span>

<div class="titlecardd">Prologue,</div> <div class="titlecardd2">Take pity,</div> <<fadein 5s>><div class="begin3">Six Years Later, On Your Birthday.</div><</fadein>> <div class="begin">T</div>he wall is cold to the touch, and as you peek out of the window at the blanket of white covering the ground, your nursemaid, Reina, settles a plate of food on the small table behind you. "That's snow, Your Highness," she tells you, "I know I've said it before, but you were so young I'm not sure if you remembered or not." She sounds a bit sheepish and tucks a ringlet of black hair behind her ear. *[["I know what it is!" You say with a smile. You recall from the time she told you before.]] *[["I read it in my storybook," you say quietly, "snow."]] *[["I forgot the name," you admit. "Why is it called that?"]] *[[You shuffle quietly in place, perching your chin on the windowsill.]]

"I know what it is!" You say with a smile. You recall from the time she told you before. "Ah, how lovely!" Reina giggles at you and moves closer to watch it fall. "Just like you. Happy birthday, my little $title." She settles a hand on your back—it's warm, just like everything about Reina. *[["Do you think everyone will visit me, since it's my birthday?!" A sudden burst of excitement takes over you and you grin.]] *[["It's my birthday, so everyone should come and see me, right?" You voice this softly, a hopeful look on your face.]] *[["No one is coming to see me, are they?" You wilt, leaning your cheek against the windowsill.]]

"I read it in my storybook," you say quietly,"snow." "Oh?" Reina thumbs through your small bookshelf until she pulls from it a worn, small book with the word ‘snow' engraved on the cover. "//This// storybook?" You nod at her, and she places the book next to the food on the table and takes a place next to you at the window. Her warm hand squeezes your shoulder. "I see. We'll have to read it before bed, now won't we? It is your birthday, after all." *[["Do you think everyone will visit me, since it's my birthday?!" A sudden burst of excitement takes over you and you grin.]] *[["It's my birthday, so everyone should come and see me, right?" You voice this softly, a hopeful look on your face.]] *[["No one is coming to see me, are they?" You wilt, leaning your cheek against the windowsill.]]

"I forgot the name," you admit."Why is it called that?" Reina makes a thoughtful noise and leans against the wall near the window, making eye contact with you when you turn your curious gaze to her. "Well, I'm sure I don't know. It just simply //is.//" "But I want to know!" You frown at her, and Reina laughs and nudges your cheek with her knuckle. "Forgive me, my $title. I can't answer your question—and on your birthday, as well!" She smiles. "Happy birthday, Your Highness." *[["Do you think everyone will visit me, since it's my birthday?!" A sudden burst of excitement takes over you and you grin.]] *[["It's my birthday, so everyone should come and see me, right?" You voice this softly, a hopeful look on your face.]] *[["No one is coming to see me, are they?" You wilt, leaning your cheek against the windowsill.]]

You shuffle quietly in place, perching your chin on the windowsill. Reina mirrors you, your heads suddenly side by side. "Is your chin not cold like this? I know mine is." She runs a hand over your $haircolor hair and straightens up so she's no longer looking out the window. "One should never have a cold chin on their birthday." *[["Do you think everyone will visit me, since it's my birthday?!" A sudden burst of excitement takes over you and you grin.]] *[["It's my birthday, so everyone should come and see me, right?" You voice this softly, a hopeful look on your face.]] *[["No one is coming to see me, are they?" You wilt, leaning your cheek against the windowsill.]]

"Do you think everyone will visit me since it's my birthday?!" A sudden burst of excitement takes over you and you grin. "Ah, well, I'm sure they want to. But everyone is so busy, they may not have time," Reina says, giving you a smile that looks a tad forced, but stretches her full lips regardless. "Oh." You deflate, excitement seeping out of your body. "But, how about this?" Reina nudges you to get your attention again. "How about we go outside and play in the snow? Hm? Would you like that?" *[["Really? I thought we weren't allowed?" The thought of touching the substance with your own two hands has you buzzing.]] *[["Won't we get in trouble?" You ask Reina. You want to, but…]] *[["Isn't it cold, though?" The thought of touching it made you feel icky.]] *[["Yes! Let's go!" You move away from the window.]]

"It's my birthday, so everyone should come and see me, right?" You voice this softly, a hopeful look on your face. Reina scratches her cheek and looks away from you as if she cannot bare to look at your earnest expression. "I'm sure they want to." Her smile looks suspiciously strained. "But they are busy, you must understand." You feel a strange and painful sadness at her words and turn away to stare out at the snow again. "But that doesn't mean we can't still have fun on your birthday!" Reina takes your shoulder to get your attention. "Let's go outside and play in the snow, okay?" *[["Really? I thought we weren't allowed?" The thought of touching the substance with your own two hands has you buzzing.]] *[["Won't we get in trouble?" You ask Reina. You want to, but…]] *[["Isn't it cold, though?" The thought of touching it made you feel icky.]] *[["Yes! Let's go!" You move away from the window.]]

"No one is coming to see me, are they?" You wilt, leaning your cheek against the windowsill. Reina doesn't even attempt to convince you otherwise. She simply touches your shoulders in an act of comfort and stares out the window until a smile comes over her face. "You can still have a nice birthday. Let's go outside, hm?" *[["Really? I thought we weren't allowed?" The thought of touching the substance with your own two hands has you buzzing.]] *[["Won't we get in trouble?" You ask Reina. You want to, but…]] *[["Isn't it cold, though?" The thought of touching it made you feel icky.]] *[["Yes! Let's go!" You move away from the window.]]

"Really? I thought we weren't allowed?" The thought of touching the substance with your own two hands has you buzzing. You hop off the chair you're using and start towards the door, and Reina takes your hand. "I'm sure we'll be fine," she says. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro6">><</button>></span>

"Won't we get in trouble?" You ask Reina. You want to, but… She guides you out of your chair and through the door, urging you to relax with her warm hands against your back. "Don't you worry your sweet little head about, my $title. We'll be fine." <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro6">><</button>></span>

"Isn't it cold, though?" The thought of touching it made you feel icky. "Don't worry, you'll get used to the feeling!" Reina urges you out of your chair and to the door. "You're going to have so much fun." <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro6">><</button>></span>

"Yes! Let's go!" You jump from your seat and rush over to the door without waiting for Reina, which makes her laugh as she moves to follow you. "You're so full of energy, Your Highness! Do wait for me!" <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro6">><</button>></span>

<div class="actcard"> Act 0, Gilded Cage. </div> <span class="next"><<button "Prologue" "pro5">><</button>></span>

Reina takes you out to what must be a garden. You've never seen it from any of your windows. If it wasn't for the crunch of the snow on the ground, you're sure everything would be in full bloom. It feels familiar to you, but you're sure you've never set foot in the place. Your small feet make tiny indents in the crisp snow and you're <<cycle "$snowsound" autoselect>> <<option "confused">> <<option "enamored">> <<option "startled">> <<option "unaffected">> <</cycle>> by the sound it makes. "This is a special garden," Reina hums in your ear as she leans down to your height, her hands the only warmth you can feel. "So we must be careful, yes?" You give her your understanding, and she pulls away. You watch as she looks around, her hands fiddling with her skirt. Why is she worried? *[["What do we do now?" You have a grin on your face, but all you know to do is stand there.]] *[["Now what, Reina?" You look up at her with a soft smile.]] *[[Bend down and gather some snow in your hands, unsure of what else to do.]]

"What do we do now?" You have a grin on your face, but all you know to do is stand there. A snowflake lands on the tip of your nose, melting at contact. Reina bends down to your height yet again, and at first you believe she's thinking, but then she tosses a clump of snow softly at your chest. "Got you!" She laughs, her nose winkling. *[["Reina!" You laugh."Why did you do that?"]] *[["Why did you throw that at me?" You frown."Did I make you mad?"]] *[[Wordlessly throw one back at her.]]

"Now what, Reina?" You look up at her with a soft smile. Reina pats you on your head, bending down to your height yet again. Your smile brightens, and you lean into her hand. Then, she presses a clump of snow into your chest. "Got you!" *[["Reina!" You laugh."Why did you do that?"]] *[["Why did you throw that at me?" You frown."Did I make you mad?"]] *[[Wordlessly throw one back at her.]]

Bend down and gather some snow in your hands, unsure of what else to do. "What a good idea!" Reina grabs a handful of snow and tosses it loosely at you, and it hardly makes contact at all. *[["Reina!" You laugh."Why did you do that?"]] *[["Why did you throw that at me?" You frown."Did I make you mad?"]] *[[Wordlessly throw one back at her.]]

"Reina!" You laugh."Why did you do that?" You brush the snow from your clothes. "It's a game! Come on! Throw one back at me!" Reina moves back with alarming speed and takes cover behind a snow covered bush that rains the white powder when she bumps into it. You don't need to be told twice. You throw a ball of snow at her, but miss completely. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro7">><</button>></span>

"Why did you throw that at me?" You frown."Did I make you mad?" "Oh, no!" Reina squishes your cheeks, though they still manage to be warm even after she dug through the cold snow. "It's a game, my $title. Throw one at me, now!" She pulls away from you and moves slowly over to crouch behind a bush, gesturing at you with her hand. "Come on!" After a moment of hesitation, you toss a weak ball of snow in her direction and miss completely. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro7">><</button>></span>

Wordlessly throw one back at her. Because she's standing so close, the snow explodes on her dress and her curls shake as she laughs. "Oh! You got me!" She jolts out of reach and takes cover behind a bush, tossing another one in your direction that you're powerless to avoid. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro7">><</button>></span>

The game goes on for a while, and both you and Reina lose track of time. Soon, the garden is no longer untouched. Instead, muddy footprints cover the once pristine snow, and the bushes are bare from Reina bumping into them while changing her cover. You are having fun. But that comes to an end when Reina's snowball hits someone that isn't you. No, it hits a man instead. Reina instantly drops to the ground in a bow, her black curls brushing the ground and staining white from the snow. "Your Majesty!" Your father—who you have never seen before. *[[You want to run and give him a hug, but the look on his face leaves you stuck in place.]] *[[Your eyes fill with tears as you stare at him.]] *[[You can't decide how you feel—there are too many warring emotions.]]

Your legs twitch and you move forward a step, but the look on his face stops you from going any further. You should feel happy seeing him—you should be happy. So, why are you so scared? "What are you doing here?" His voice is so quiet you have to lean forward to find it. "You know whose garden this is. You are standing on the property of the Queen!" When he shouts, all sound ceases around you—all the birds and insects. It is pure silence. Until Reina breaks it in a beg for forgiveness. "Forgive me, Your Highness! I know that no one comes here, so I thought we wouldn't be bothered!" "We?" Adder's eyes are livid. "//We,// you say? You've brought someone else here? Where are they? Come out, now!" It's then you realize that he's failed to spot you behind the bushes—you're too short to be seen. Reina jumps forward and hugs onto Adder's leg. "No! No, please, Your Majesty! There is no one else here, it is only me!" The King pulls his free foot back and kicks Reina harshly in the face, sending her flying back to crumble on the snow. *[["Reina!" You can watch no longer. You jump away from the bushes and go to your nursemaid.]] *[["No! Stop! Leave her alone!" You rush at the man—King or not. Kick him back.]] *[["Please, stop…" Your voice is soft and broken, and fear allows you only a few steps forward.]]

At first, there's a hope. You could be a family, right? But then, there's sadness, and your eyes sting in the cold. He's been gone for so long. "What are you doing here?" His voice is so quiet you have to lean forward to find it. "You know whose garden this is. You are standing on the property of the Queen!" When he shouts, all sound ceases around you—all the birds and insects. It is pure silence. Until Reina breaks it in a beg for forgiveness. "Forgive me, Your Highness! I know that no one comes here, so I thought we wouldn't be bothered!" "We?" Adder's eyes are livid. "//We,// you say? You've brought someone else here? Where are they? Come out, now!" It's then you realize that he's failed to spot you behind the bushes—you're too short to be seen. Reina jumps forward and hugs onto Adder's leg. "No! No, please, Your Majesty! There is no one else here, it is only me!" The King pulls his free foot back and kicks Reina harshly in the face, sending her flying back to crumble on the snow. *[["Reina!" You can watch no longer. You jump away from the bushes and go to your nursemaid.]] *[["No! Stop! Leave her alone!" You rush at the man—King or not. Kick him back.]] *[["Please, stop…" Your voice is soft and broken, and fear allows you only a few steps forward.]]

At first you feel happiness—then sadness—something else, and it all overwhelms you. You can't pick apart what you really feel. "What are you doing here?" His voice is so quiet you have to lean forward to find it. "You know whose garden this is. You are standing on the property of the Queen!" When he shouts, all sound ceases around you—all the birds and insects. It is pure silence. Until Reina breaks it in a beg for forgiveness. "Forgive me, Your Highness! I know that no one comes here, so I thought we wouldn't be bothered!" "We?" Adder's eyes are livid. "//We,// you say? You've brought someone else here? Where are they? Come out, now!" It's then you realize that he's failed to spot you behind the bushes—you're too short to be seen. Reina jumps forward and hugs onto Adder's leg. "No! No, please, Your Majesty! There is no one else here, it is only me!" The King pulls his free foot back and kicks Reina harshly in the face, sending her flying back to crumble on the snow. *[["Reina!" You can watch no longer. You jump away from the bushes and go to your nursemaid.]] *[["No! Stop! Leave her alone!" You rush at the man—King or not. Kick him back.]] *[["Please, stop…" Your voice is soft and broken, and fear allows you only a few steps forward.]]

"Reina!" You can watch no longer. You rush from the bushes, a branch scratching your arm as you do so—as if to hold you back. But you pay it no mind. You drop to your knees in front of Reina, touching her shoulders as she so often does to you. "Are you okay?" Reina wipes away blood on her hand, and when she lifts her head to smile at you, you see that her nose looks twisted and wrong. "I'm alright." "You dare bring this child here?" Adder demands Reina's attention once again, and his fists shake with barely contained rage."To this secret place? You would bring $them here?!" "Forgive us, Your Majesty!" Reina sits up only to bow to the ground again. "It is $their birthday. Forgive us." Adder turns his head slightly to where an armored man loiters on the edge of the garden. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro8">><</button>></span>

"No! Stop! Leave her alone!" You rush at the man—King or not. The only thought on your mind is that you have to protect Reina. You can't reach any higher, so right below the knee is the only place you can manage to kick him. And he is unfazed. He doesn't strike you, nor does he shout. He merely—stares. Reina pulls you back with a hand on your clothes, and you turn to see blood on her face where her nose is. Her nose looks strange. "Forgive us," Reina speaks to Adder, "It was harmless." "You would dare bring that child here." The King's voice burns as hot as a flame. "Your insolence sees no end." He turns his head slightly to where an armored man loiters on the edge of the garden. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro8">><</button>></span>

"Please, stop…" Your voice is soft and broken, and fear allows you only a few steps forward. You long to reach out to Reina—to make sure she's alright. "I'm alright." Reina holds a hand up to stop your approach, and you see blood smeared on her fingers. Unfortunately, the King has already spotted you. "You?" Adder's gaze is burning. "You would bring this child here? To this place?" He turns his head slightly to where an armored man loiters on the edge of the garden. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro8">><</button>></span>

"Take the $title back to $their chambers," King Adder instructs the guard, who shuffles uncomfortably in place. "How could I touch the $title—" He bows his head several times, as if even the thought was worthy of death. "Grab $them, damn it!" Adder pushes the guard forward with a shove, mouth pulled back in a snarl. "Drag $them by $their hair if you must, but take $them away!" *[["No! Please!" You fight back tears as you hold onto Reina's body.]] *[["Stay away from me!" You hit out at the guard with your small fists.]] *[[Let yourself blankly be dragged.]]

"No! Please!" You fight back tears as you hold onto Reina's body. You clutch her sleeves and she pats your small hands gently with her own. "All will be well, my $title," Reina whispers soothingly, reaching out for you as the guard, emboldened, grabs onto you. "No!" You cry as the guard picks you up and holds you tightly against his freezing chest, and you aren't sure if he's trying to comfort or silence you. "Take $them to $their room, and keep $them there! I don't want a single glimpse of $their face, do you understand!?" "Yes, Your Majesty," the guard says, walking stiffly away as you watch Adder approach, Reina. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro9">><</button>></span>

"Stay away from me!" You hit out at the guard with your small fists as he goes to grab you, baring your teeth like a small, rabid animal. "Shh, $title, please," Reina attempts to soothe you, reaching out to touch your hair as you're swiped up roughly into the arms of the guard. "All will be well!" You bang against the man's chest, but it hurts you more than it hurts him. "Take that wild thing to $their room, now. I don't want $them to step a foot outside again, do you hear me!? Guard $them yourself if you have to," Adder instructs. "Yes, Your Majesty," the iron-clad man responds, taking you from the garden as the King approaches Reina. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro9">><</button>></span>

You can only stare blankly as the guard advances on you. Reina touches your back gently, encouraging you to go. When you turn back to stare at her, there is a hint of finality in her eyes, but you can't understand it. "All will be well, my $title." You're scooped into the guard's arms, and he takes you from the garden as the King approaches Reina. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro9">><</button>></span>

You're taken further and further away, but you can still hear Reina's sweet voice, twisted with hatred toward your father. "What? Are you going to kill me?" Her voice is fading as you go. "You take me from my sister to watch your $child, and you kill me for giving $them affection on $their birthday." You're straining to listen now. "Burn in—" The last thing that reaches your ears is Reina's scream, and that, you have no trouble hearing. <span class="next"><<button "Years Later" "pro10">><</button>></span>

<<fadein 5s>><div class="begin3">Four Years Later.</div><</fadein>> You did not see Reina again after that. You'd waited time and time again for her to walk through the door with her warm smile and warm hands and warm words, but it never happened. And though you'd had maids, they all kept their distance from you after Reina stopped coming, as if they'd suffer the same fate she had—though you don't know what it was. But King Adder didn't plan to leave you without a nursemaid—no. Only three weeks after Reina's disappearance, he assigned another one to you. But she was nothing like Reina. Constance—her name was. She never delivered your food on time. She never read to you before bed. She never hugged you when you cried. She was like a ghost, barely there and cold when she was. And so you spent day after day stuck in the bedroom, you called home. It was relatively spacious, with many windows and a bathing area—but it was so cold. And it was empty. Ever since Constance arrived, your books began to deplete, and your toys became non-existent. You were alone in an empty place. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro11">><</button>></span>

On one of the days that Constance did not deliver your food, you found yourself with a stomach-wrenching hunger. You had felt it before, so it wasn't as jarring, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. You tossed and turned on your bed until finally, you could not take it anymore. *[[Knock on the door and get the attention of the guard outside.]] *[[Peek outside to see if the guard is gone.]]

You shift by the door, tugging anxiously at you clothes, until you finally gather the courage you need to knock on the door, hoping to get the attention of the guard outside of the door. Yet, there is no response. You knock again. Nothing. So you try the handle, and it creaks open. And you see an empty space where the man that guards your room should be. He isn't there—in fact, no one is in the hallway at all. Not that you expected there would be, servants tend to avoid your area of the palace. You step out. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro12">><</button>></span>

You push the door open in the hopes that you won't catch his attention, and you'll somehow be able to sneak past him. Though, there is a chance he won't be there. You recall another time when Constance berated him for leaving his post, but you're sure he still did it after that. And that's why you can't be surprised when he isn't there. There is no one there at all, actually—not that there would be, though. Servants tend to avoid your side of the palace. You step outside. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro12">><</button>></span>

You move quickly down the hallway, your bare feet making a soft muffled noise on the carpet below you. Your head turns like a top, taking in all you can of the decor. It was so…full, compared to anything you'd ever seen. Paintings of people you'd never seen before covered the walls, both large and small, but grand nonetheless. As you turn a corner, not really sure what you're looking for, you spot something that stops you in your tracks. The biggest painting yet, with a shiny border that sparkles in the sunlight. It's your family. You know because of the man in the middle—King Adder. He looks younger than when you saw him four years ago. And there are four children there—and though you know their names, the only way you can guess as to which belongs to which, is by how they look. The tallest one: a girl, was likely Dalia, the heir to the throne. She wasn't smiling. The two identical ones: a boy and a girl, were no doubt Lorelei and Lowell, the twins. They were leaning against a woman sitting in the middle. The woman must be your mother. She has a wide smile and holds a young boy on her knee—Abrin, the youngest. Well, not the youngest. But the youngest in the painting, because you are not present. *[[You touch the painting gingerly, in awe of your family.]] *[[You tear up at the fact you aren't included.]] *[[Briefly think about clawing the painting to shreds. You should be in the painting too.]] *[[Give it a final look and turn away. You can't bring yourself to feel anything looking at the painting, no matter how hard you try. They aren't your family.]]

You touch the painting gingerly, smoothing your fingers against the oil painting—against the shiny skirt the frozen form of your mother wears, that was no doubt silky to the touch when she actually wore it. You gaze at the faces of your older siblings. When you meet, would they look at you with love? Will you see your father smile, like the image of him does? The grumble of your stomach attempts to call you away from the painting, and though it pains you to do so, you must walk off in search of food of some sort. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro13">><</button>></span>

You chew at your bottom lip as tears spring into your eyes. You can't help but wonder why you can't sit and smile with them, posing for a new portrait to hang upon the wall. How long did they sit there? How did your siblings fidget and how did your father urge them to be still? Your chest aches, and you long for a steady hand on your shoulder too. You long to curl against your mother's skirt just the same. You feel you could stand there and cry at the painting for an endless amount of time, but your stomach clenches painfully to remind you that, //no, you cannot.// So, you wipe your tears, and leave the idyllic picture behind, in favor of food. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro13">><</button>></span>

Your fingernails dig into your palm in a painful fist, teeth clenched together as you glare at the painting with a hatred a child shouldn't be capable of. Where were those eyes four years ago in the garden, when you first met your father? Those kind eyes you'd never glimpsed before. Where were your siblings to play with, to chase away your boredom in the cast bedroom you called home? Where was your //mother,// to rock you to sleep and hold you like Reina did, to bounce you on her knee like she did your brother. Your stomach twists, but not from anger—from hunger. And now, it outweighs your desire to tear the picture from the wall and scratch the canvas until your fingers bled. Now, you must eat something. You must. So, you move from the painting, sending one final frown to the family, the one you don't seem to be a part of. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro13">><</button>></span>

As you stare at it, you search deep for a hint of sadness, anger, and hope. You look high and low for a feeling to feel for the family depicted on the wall. You find nothing in your chest for them. You ring empty for their content faces. You do not wish to be there with them—you don't know them. No, you understand nothing about them. What was your mother's favorite flower? What games do your siblings play together? Did they eat dinner together every night, while you sat in your bedroom alone? They are not your family, because they are strangers. And the call for food in your stomach is not a hard thing to ignore. You have no issue turning away from them and continuing down the hallway like you never saw it in the first place. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro13">><</button>></span>

You have never roamed the halls for this long. Back when Reina would take you outside, you could never stay inside the walls for this long, for fear of someone seeing you out of your room. She used to tell you it was a game, but you know better now. The paintings go on and on and on. There are branching hallways, and locked doors that don't look like they lead to kitchens at all. You're //lost//, you realize. You have no idea how to get back to your room. *[[Your heart pounds with fear. What if you get in trouble?]] *[[You fidget where you stand. You need to eat something.]] *[[Maybe you could go back the way you came?]]

Your pulse starts to skip as you imagine someone finding you outside your room. Constance would be upset, and she would hit you again! The ghost of her touch makes you reach up to brush your cheek. It had been a reprimand for leaving your room during a lightning storm, in the middle of the night. She'd been right there across the hall, in the same room Reina had used. She'd let you go to her when you were frightened by a night terror or a storm, but not Constance. You flick your gaze around. Though you hadn't encountered anyone during this journey, you very well might soon. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro14">><</button>></span>

The need in your stomach grows so overwhelming you feel shaky on your feet. You consider sitting down on the carpet beneath you so you calm your dizziness, but it's gone in only a moment. The fear of Constance's anger makes you want to return to your bedroom, but this strange feeling in your body urges you to continue your aimless wandering. You flick your gaze around. Though you hadn't encountered anyone during this journey, you very well might soon. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro14">><</button>></span>

You search the halls around you with a short turn of your body. You hadn't exactly ran into anyone during your journey, but someone could come by any minute. You remember Reina telling you to retrace your steps if you ever got lost, but you'd went around in such loopy circles you were sure you couldn't find your way back that way. And a pang from your stomach reminded you that you might not want to. You needed food. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro14">><</button>></span>

A small hiss sounds behind you, and you swirl in surprise to see a boy not too much older than you are, standing behind you, a pensive look on his face. You hadn't heard any footsteps—it was like he'd appeared out of thin air. "Why aren't you at the party?" he whispers, shuffling closer to get a better look at you. "Did you sneak away too?" He is taller than you and looks suspiciously familiar. Like a face you'd seen in a dream but couldn't remember when you woke up. *[["Party? What's that?" Something about the word is exciting.]] *[["No, I didn't!" You give him a frightened look. He didn't look scary, but you didn't talk to many other people—especially those close to your age.]] *[["I didn't, but I'm really hungry." Maybe he could lead you to some food?]]

The word is unfamiliar, but exciting at the same time. "What's a party?" you ask, because you must know. "You don't know?" His face twists with confusion. "How could you not know? We have parties here all the time!" He spreads his arms. "They happen in this really big room, and there's food and drinks—and we play games!" "Really? That's what it is?" Your eyes sparkle and shine with awe. "I've never heard of it!" Reina hadn't taught you that, you were certain. "That's awful!" He takes your forearm in hand, giving you a determined look. "I'll take you—" Your stomach makes a loud noise, cutting off his words and making his gaze drop to your stomach. "Are you hungry? Why didn't you say so?!" He pulls you a few feet up the hall and presses against the wall until a creaking sound startles you. "What's that?" you ask, but the boy doesn't need to answer you question, because the wall folds in on itself right in front of you. A large section falls back and disappears, leaving a hole in the wall that looked big enough for three full grown people to squeeze into side by side. "Oh!" "It's a passage!" The boy begins to pull you into it, and though you're apprehensive at first to go into the dark passageway, as soon as you step inside, torches flare to life down a long, stretching hallway. "It leads all throughout the palace! Come on, let's go before we get caught!" He giggles like only a carefree child could. *[["Okay!" The prospect of an adventure has your heart racing.]] *[["I don't know…" You glance around."Will we get in trouble?"]] *[["As long as you promise you'll get me some food!"]]

"Okay!" When would you get another chance to have an adventure? Surely, if Constance discovered you disappeared, she would make certain you couldn't leave again. With all the stories of adventures Reina read to you in the back of your mind, you step in further, much to the strange boy's delight. The boy leads you through twisting paths, navigating the place with the skill of an expert—of someone who did this everyday, or at least very often. You're watching his hair sway behind him, and you're beginning to believe that you really only know him from a dream. "Oh," he whispers back to you, turning his head to look over his shoulder, and the light from the fire of the torches makes him look like some sort of angel. "My name is Abrin. What's yours?" Oh. Abrin. That's why he looked so familiar to you—there are bits and pieces of the two of you that are the same. His nose, his ears—but most importantly: his eyes. They shine a brilliant $eyecolor, and if you look carefully, cover all but his eyes, it's like looking in a mirror. *[["Your name is Abrin?" As in, your brother, Abrin? You tear up.]] *[["Abrin!" You hug him tight.]] *[["You're the prince…" You don't know what else to say. Can you really consider him your brother when you barely know his face? Know him?]]

"I don't know…" You glance around. You couldn't imagine what Constance would do if she found you so far from your bedroom. And she could punish the boy too!"Will we get in trouble?" The boy looks somehow pleased at your question, taking your hand in his and squeezing once as a way to reassure you."Only if we get caught!" He lowers his voice, like he's about to tell you a secret."And we won't. I know exactly where to go. Come with me!" "Okay, I-If you're sure," you agree, and you're pulled further in. The boy leads you through twisting paths, navigating the place with the skill of an expert—of someone who did this everyday, or at least very often. You're watching his hair sway behind him, and you're beginning to believe that you really only know him from a dream. "Oh," he whispers back to you, turning his head to look over his shoulder, and the light from the fire of the torches makes him look like some sort of angel."My name is Abrin. What's yours?" Oh. Abrin. That's why he looked so familiar to you—there are bits and pieces of the two of you that are the same. His nose, his ears—but most importantly: his eyes. They shine a brilliant $eyecolor, and if you look carefully, cover all but his eyes, it's like looking in a mirror. *[["Your name is Abrin?" As in, your brother, Abrin? You tear up.]] *[["Abrin!" You hug him tight.]] *[["You're the prince…" You don't know what else to say. Can you really consider him your brother when you barely know his face? Know him?]]

"As long as you promise you'll get me some food!" you request, crossing your arms sternly as you stare at him. And evidently, he isn't used to being stared at in such a way, because he gives you a confused stare. "Okay, I promise," he swears, and holds his little finger out. If Reina hadn't taught you the importance of a promise such as this, you would never have known to wrap your finger around his. "Good," you say, and he gives you a suddenly determined look, and pulls you deeper into the passage. The boy leads you through twisting paths, navigating the place with the skill of an expert—of someone who did this everyday, or at least very often. You're watching his hair sway behind him, and you're beginning to believe that you really only know him from a dream. "Oh," he whispers back to you, turning his head to look over his shoulder, and the light from the fire of the torches makes him look like some sort of angel. "My name is Abrin. What's yours?" Oh. Abrin. That's why he looked so familiar to you—there are bits and pieces of the two of you that are the same. His nose, his ears—but most importantly: his eyes. They shine a brilliant $eyecolor, and if you look carefully, cover all but his eyes, it's like looking in a mirror. *[["Your name is Abrin?" As in, your brother, Abrin? You tear up.]] *[["Abrin!" You hug him tight.]] *[["You're the prince…" You don't know what else to say. Can you really consider him your brother when you barely know his face? Know him?]]

"No, I didn't!" You give him a frightened look. He didn't look scary, but you didn't talk to many other people—especially those close to your age. You weren't sure what a party was, either. "Oh, don't be scared!" The boy edges closer to you and makes his voice softer, like trying to urge a frightened animal out of hiding. "I won't tell anyone you left—I-I promise. Don't be scared." "I really didn't—" A loud sound from your stomach rips through the air and your words, and you raise your hands to touch your midriff. You make a soft noise of pain, and the boy's eyes widen. "Are you okay? Does your stomach hurt?" He touches your arm and talks like he's addressing someone far younger than him, even though the two of you can't be too far apart in age. "Or are you hungry?" Your stomach //does// hurt, but it's //because// you're hungry, so you give a slight nod of your head. He hesitates, but then pulls you a few feet up the hall and presses against the wall until a creaking sound startles you. "W-What's that?" you ask, but the boy doesn't need to answer you question, because the wall folds in on itself right in front of you. A large section falls back and disappears, leaving a hole in the wall that looked big enough for three full grown people to squeeze into side by side. "Oh!" "It's a passage!" The boy begins to pull you into it, and though you're apprehensive at first to go into the dark passageway, as soon as you step inside, torches flare to life down a long, stretching hallway. "It leads all throughout the palace! Come on, I promise I'll find you something to eat through here." *[["Okay!" The prospect of an adventure has your heart racing.]] *[["I don't know…" You glance around."Will we get in trouble?"]] *[["As long as you promise you'll get me some food!"]]

"I didn't, but I'm really hungry." Getting back to your bedroom is important, but filling your empty stomach is dire. "Can you get me something?" You were old enough to understand what you needed. The boy blinks and glances around the ceiling, trying to find an answer to your question there. "Food?" He touches his chin and hums. "Oh! I know just where to take you!" He hesitates, but then pulls you a few feet up the hall and presses against the wall until a creaking sound startles you. "What's that?" you ask, but the boy doesn't need to answer you question, because the wall folds in on itself right in front of you. A large section falls back and disappears, leaving a hole in the wall that looked big enough for three full grown people to squeeze into side by side. "Oh!" "It's a passage!" The boy begins to pull you into it, and though you're apprehensive at first to go into the dark passageway, as soon as you step inside, torches flare to life down a long, stretching hallway. "It leads all throughout the palace! Come on. I can you some food through here." *[["Okay!" The prospect of an adventure has your heart racing.]] *[["I don't know…" You glance around."Will we get in trouble?"]] *[["As long as you promise you'll get me some food!"]]

<div class="profile2">$aname:</div> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">$aname $arelation%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ $aname sees you as something in $aher way. <div class="profile2">$rname:</div> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">$rname $rrelation%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ $rname likes you, but $rhe likes everyone. <div class="profile2">$mname:</div> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">$mname $mrelation%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ $mname doesn't know you yet, but will treat you with kindness. <div class="profile2">$cname:</div> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">$cname $crelation%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ $cname doesn't care about you. <<button "Return" $return>><</button>> /* or <<link "Return" $return>><</link>> */

"Your name is Abrin?" Your brother? You recall the face in the painting you saw only moments before. He is years older now, that much is clear, but the childlike face portrayed remains. You freeze in place, moving forward no longer. "Yes?" He pauses mid-step, releasing your hand. "I //am// the prince, but, please, don't worry about the title. Just call me Abrin!" He smiles wide at you. "No one else my age does. It won't feel like we're real friends if you don't call me by my name! Come on, please? Please." You blink away tears, but the few that make it down your cheek cause you to wipe them away with the back of your hand. He doesn't know who you are. Though, you couldn't have expected him to—you didn't know he was either. "Oh, please! I didn't mean to make you cry." Abrin glances around and pats you on the arm, obviously not too familiar with comforting others. "I'm sorry. Don't cry." *[["I'll call you Abrin." You rub away the tears and try to speak clearly. But you don't tell him who you are. What if he didn't want to be your friend anymore?]] *[[You let your tears fall freely and tell him who you are.]]

"Abrin!" Something inside of you lights up, and you plant your feet firmly on the ground, tugging him to a stop. You release his hand and try to contain yourself—you try your hardest—but you can't. You leap forward and throw your arms around him. Your brother, who you've never touched before this moment. Your brother, who doesn't know who you are. Abrin's shoulders tense and you, for a moment, think he's going to push you away. But he doesn't. He reaches a hesitant arm around you and pats your back. "What is it? What's the matter?" He sounds puzzled. "Did I say something wrong?" *[["No, you didn't." You pull away from him, but don't tell him who you are.]] *[["No! Not at all." Tell him who you are.]]

"You're the prince…" You don't know what else to say. Can you really consider him your brother when you barely know his face? Know him? You stop walking, which ultimately stops Abrin from walking as well. There's a sudden silence in the air around the two of you, until he speaks. "What is it? Don't be scared. I'm the prince—but I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He gives you a worried look. "This doesn't mean you won't be friend, does it? Please, say that's not it. I'm going to get you something to eat, and it'll be really good!" *[["Then let's go get it." You don't tell him who you are.]] *[["I know you won't hurt me." You tell him who you are.]]

<<set $tellAbrin to "yes">> You let out a choked sound and hold your hands up to your eyes, covering them as you let the tears fall. Your brother. Your brother! Abrin, your brother. "What is it?!" He leans closer and rubs your arm, trying to soothe you. "Why are you crying? Are you that hungry?" "No! No, it's not that…" Your drop your hands to look him in the eye. "I'm…" Your $sibling, you want to say. //I'm your $sibling,// you try to force out. "You're what?" Abrin looks a combination of confused and concerned. "What?" "I'm $name," you whisper, and he has to lean closer to hear. "Your $sibling, $name." Abrin blinks at you blankly. "What are you talking about? I don't have a younger sibling." He continues to rub your arm, though his face is more confused than concerned now. "But you do—!" You pat your chest. "I-I am. We have the same eyes…" You hadn't thought about the fact that he may not believe you. Fresh tears stream down your face. Abrin leans closer to stare at your face, then scratches his cheek. "I don't think you'd lie to me…but it's hard to believe I have a $sibling I never knew about!" He takes your hand. "I'll believe you for now. I'm sure Dalia would know if you were our sibling!" He begins pulling you down the hall with renewed vigor. "We'll get you some food, and then ask her." <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro15">><</button>></span>

"No, you didn't," you whisper, pulling away from him. There's a part of you that wants so badly to tell him who you are—so badly to tell him and be embraced by him, be embraced like you haven't been since Reina. But you can't stop thinking about when you met your father, the way he treated you and Reina. And it stops you from saying anything else. "Oh, good!" he says happily, and takes your hand again. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro15">><</button>></span>

<<set $tellAbrin to "yes">> Your brother. Your brother! Abrin, your brother. "No! No, not at all." You look him in the eye. "I'm…" Your $sibling, you want to say. //I'm your $sibling,// you try to force out. "You're what?" Abrin looks a combination of confused and concerned. "What?" "I'm $name," you whisper, and he has to lean closer to hear. "Your $sibling, $name." Abrin blinks at you blankly. "What are you talking about? I don't have a younger $sibling." "But you do—!" You pat your chest. "I am your $sibling. We have the same eyes…" You hadn't thought about the fact that he may not believe you. It makes your chest throb. Abrin leans closer to stare at your face, then scratches his cheek. "I don't think you'd lie to me…but it's hard to believe I have a $sibling I never knew about!" He takes your hand. "I'll believe you for now. I'm sure Dalia would know if you were our sibling!" He begins pulling you down the hall with renewed vigor. "We'll get you some food, and then ask her." <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro15">><</button>></span>

"Then let's go get it," you urge, "Let's go get the food, then." You can't tell him. He may want to be your friend now, but—You think of your father's face when he saw you those years ago. The last thing you want is to see hatred in his eyes. Abrin takes your hand once more, pulling you down the hallway yet again. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro15">><</button>></span>

<<set $tellAbrin to "yes">> Your brother. Your brother! Abrin, your brother. But could you really call him that? "I know you won't." You look him in the eye. "I'm…" Your $sibling, you want to say. //I'm your $sibling,// you try to force out. "You're what?" Abrin looks a combination of confused and concerned. "What?" "I'm $name," you whisper, and he has to lean closer to hear. "Your $sibling, $name." Abrin blinks at you blankly. "What are you talking about? I don't have a younger sibling." "But you do." You pat your chest. "It's me. We have the same eye. Don't I look like you?" You hadn't thought about the fact that he may not believe you. Abrin leans closer to stare at your face, then scratches his cheek. "I don't think you'd lie to me…but it's hard to believe I have a $sibling I never knew about!" He takes your hand. "I'll believe you for now. I'm sure Dalia would know if you were our sibling!" He begins pulling you down the hall with renewed vigor. "We'll get you some food, and then ask her." <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro15">><</button>></span>

The wall opens to reveal a room bigger than your bedroom, with a long table of snack foods yet to be touched. A blue carpet stretches from the table to a clump of seats positioned around a fireplace. "This is our drawing room," Abrin tells you, pulling you over to the table and pulling our a chair. It scrapes against the floor. "Eat all that you want. It's meant to be for my siblings, but I'm sure they won't find if you have some of it!" You fix yourself in the chair and browse the sheer amount of foods you've never seen before. There's a plate of small cookie-like things, stacked in a pile of colors. There's some sort of sandwich platter, but with an unfamiliar white inside. There's different types of fruit, some mixed in a bowl and some individually on plates. Your mouth waters, and your stomach grumbles greedily. You //need// to eat, now. *[[Attempt to pace yourself.]] *[[Stuff your face.]]

You experimentally try one of the sandwiches. You find it oddly sweet, yet also without flavor. You notice Abrin urge a cup of something into the corner of your vision. You eat some fruit after placing it on an empty plate, and you drink from the glass and find water there. You eat at least one thing from each dish, somewhat overwhelmed with the amount of choices. Abrin says nothing—does nothing but watch you eat. But, every now and again, he'll place something on your plate that you can't reach from where you're sitting. You like everything he gives you. You aren't sure how much time has passed, when the creak of a door opens behind you. "Feeding the strays again, little brother?" A voice calls out. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro16">><</button>></span>

You take handfuls of cookies and cakes and bring them straight to your mouth, not bothering to pile things onto the empty plate in front of you. Abrin doesn't say anything about the way you act, and you suspect he may be amused by the way he's smiling in the corner of your eye. He gives you something to wash everything down, but when you drink, you can't really place the taste of it because of the array of other flavors on your tongue. You assume it's water. You aren't sure how much time has passed, when the creak of a door opens behind you. "Feeding the strays again, little brother?" A voice calls out. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro16">><</button>></span>

A tall girl walks through the door, dressed head to toe in silky fabrics that make it look as if she's moving through water with every step she takes. She would look delicate, if not for the sword strapped to her waist, crinkling the material of her dress. "Who is this?" Dalia asks Abrin—it must be Dalia, you think—her lips curled into an amused smile. <<if $tellAbrin is "yes">> "I know this will sound strange," Abrin begins, urging you from your seat with a gentle hand to present you to your sister. "But this is $name!" He smiles in a way that's similar to Dalia, but with more sincerity. "Our $sibling!" "Oh?" Dalia approaches you, perching her hands on her knees to lean down and look you in the eye. She has the same $eyecolor eyes. "Yes, that certainly does look like our darling little $sibling." She stands to her full height, towering over you. "Tell me, how did you flee from your cage, little bird?" *[["W-What?" Why would she call you that…?]] *[["You know who I am?" you ask, bright-eyed.]] *[["The door was unlocked," you tell her simply.]] *[["Don't call me that!" Cage? Bird? The words make your palms sweaty.]] <<else>> "This is a friend I made a little bit ago," Abrin says, urging you from your seat to present you to Dalia with a proud smile. "I don't know $their name." Dalia leans closer, $eyecolor eyes shining with amusement. "Oh? No? How about $name, hm?" She tilts her head, and her long, black hair slides off her shoulder to brush against the top of your head. "Is that right, little bird? How'd you escape from your cage? Did our foolish little Constance set you free?" "You—you know my name?" You can't help but freeze up under Dalia's gaze. She isn't looking at you like someone would look at a $sibling. A pet, maybe. "Why, yes. I know all there is to know about you, dove. And Abrin!" She directs a gentle smile to her little brother. "You've brought $them right where I needed $them, didn't you? Good boy." "Dalia, how do you—" Abrin jumps when Dalia puts a finger to his mouth. "Shh, pet. Your $sibling is reuniting with $their family, now." She winks at him. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro17">><</button>></span> <</if>>

“Dalia, this is where you’ve run off to—oh.” A masculine voice sounds from the doorway, and you turn your head to see a tall man step inside the drawing room, clad in dark emerald robes, long hair braided down his back. He is pale and bony, and his face makes you uncomfortable in a way you can’t place. “Is this $them? Tell me it is so, Dalia.” “Why, of course it is,” Dalia says giddily. “Come and examine $them. $They will do, yes?” She takes you by the shoulders in a grip near impossible to squirm out of, her fingers ice cold. As the man approaches you, you realize exactly why Dalia has planted you in place. Every step he takes toward you makes everything in you want to run far, far away. Yet your feet do not move. You are only a child, frightened in the face of spiny, sharp fingers grabbing your chin. “Yes, $they will do nicely.” He gives you a smile, but it does not put you at ease. “Hello, child. Astrite, you may call me. We will know much more of each other from now on.” And you will. <span class="next"><<button "Eight Years Later" "pro23">><</button>></span>

“W-What?” Why would she call you that…? You shuffle on your feet, avoiding her gaze as her smile stretches wider. “Ah, cat got your tongue, does it?” She nudges your head with the heel of her hand, mussing your hair in a way that seems affectionate, yet also pushes you a step away from her. “How cute.” “Dalia? How do you know what $they look<<s>> like?” Abrin speaks up from behind you. “Why, how could I not?” Dalia gives you a long look. “$They look<<s>> exactly like us.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro17">><</button>></span>

“You know who I am?” you ask, bright-eyed. How could that be possible? Dalia’s smile becomes a tad bit too sharp. “Why, yes, I do.” She gives your head a single pat that’s too hard to be gentle, but too gentle to be hard. “How innocent you look.” “Dalia? How do you know what $they look<<s>> like?” Abrin speaks up from behind you. “Why, how could I not?” Dalia gives you a long look. “$They look<<s>> exactly like us.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro17">><</button>></span>

“The door was unlocked,” you tell her simply. Dalia’s smile widens, but her eyes sharpen. “Unlocked?” She tilts her head up to look at the ceiling. “That dear Constance. She must be replaced.” “Dalia? How do you know what $they look<<s>> like?” Abrin speaks up from behind you. “Why, how could I not?” Dalia gives you a long look. “$They look<<s>> exactly like us.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro17">><</button>></span>

“Don’t call me that!” Cage? Bird? The words make your palms sweaty. “Oh, now, now, don’t get upset. It’s only an endearment, my dove.” Dalia gives you what could be a soothing look, if her smile was not so keen. “Dalia? How do you know what $they look<<s>> like?” Abrin speaks up from behind you. “Why, how could I not?” Dalia gives you a long look. “$They look<<s>> exactly like us.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro17">><</button>></span>

<<set $chapter to "chapter one">><<if visited() is 1>><<if settings.notifications>><</if>><</if>>\ <div class="begin">T</div>he sun is shining. <div class="center"> <<message 'View Chapter One Content Warnings.'>>\ physical abuse, emotional abuse, arranged marriage, violence, cursing, <</message>> </div> <span class="next"><<button "Chapter One" "chapt1">><</button>></span>

<div class="titlecardd">Chapter One,</div> <div class="titlecardd2">for the pitiful.</div> <<fadein 5s>><div class="begin3">Eight Years Later.</div><</fadein>> <div class="begin">A</div>strite grips your jaw tightly in his hand, scanning your features with a calculating expression. The sun bleeds through the windows and lands upon his face, brightening his one, good eye an eerie green. “You look more and more like your mother by the day,” he says to you, “You have more of her than your father in you. I wonder how the King feels about that.” *[[Yank away from his hands. "Get your dirty hands off of me."]] *[[Tears gather in your eyes. It isn’t from the pain, but the mere fact he’s touching you.]] *[[You refuse to show him you're affected.]] *[[“I'll hurt you,” you threaten. One day.]]

"I'll call you Abrin," you whisper, wiping away your tears. There's a part of you that wants so badly to tell him who you are—so badly to tell him and be embraced by him, be embraced like you haven't been since Reina. But you can't stop thinking about when you met your father, the way he treated you and Reina. And it stops you from saying anything else. "Oh, good!" he says happily, suddenly blind to your emotion. You can't tell if he's trying to ignore the tears still sliding down your cheeks, or if he forgets all about them. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro15">><</button>></span>

<<set $chapter to "prologue">><<if visited() is 1>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Profile Unlocked<</notify>><</if>><</if>>\ <<set $profileready to "set">> <div class="begin">L</div>ightening strikes the strong walls of the palace, as cruel and harsh as the cries of Queen Elle as she gives birth. <div class="center"> <<message 'View Prologue Content Warnings.'>>\ childbirth, blood, death, child abuse, child neglect, cursing, violence, assault. <</message>> </div> <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro2">><</button>></span> <<if $They is "She">> <<set $Them to "Her">> <<set $Their to "Her">> <<set $Theirs to "Hers">> <<set $Themself to "Herself">> <<set $they to "she">> <<set $them to "her">> <<set $their to "her">> <<set $theirs to "hers">> <<set $themself to "herself">> <<set $sibling to "sister">> <<set $person to "woman">> <<set $child to "daughter">> <</if>> <<if $title is "princess">> <<set $Title to "Princess">> <</if>> <<if $They is "He">> <<set $Them to "Him">> <<set $Their to "His">> <<set $Theirs to "His">> <<set $Themself to "Himself">> <<set $they to "he">> <<set $them to "him">> <<set $their to "his">> <<set $theirs to "his">> <<set $themself to "himself">> <<set $sibling to "brother">> <<set $person to "man">> <<set $child to "son">> <</if>> <<if $title is "prince">> <<set $Title to "Prince">> <</if>> <<if $They is "They">> <<set $Them to "Them">> <<set $Their to "Their">> <<set $Theirs to "Theirs">> <<set $Themself to "Theirself">> <<set $they to "they">> <<set $them to "them">> <<set $their to "their">> <<set $theirs to "theirs">> <<set $themself to "themself">> <<set $sibling to "sibling">> <<set $person to "person">> <<set $child to "child">> <</if>> <<if $title is "prin">> <<set $Title to "Prin">> <</if>>

<<notify 3s>>Astrite adores your tears.<</notify>> <<set $bold to Math.clamp($bold - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $careful to Math.clamp($careful + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $reckless to Math.clamp($reckless - 5, 0, 100)>> Your lip trembles and despite how hard you fight it, tears surface in your eyes and you feel one glide down your cheek, wetting your face and making your cringe. Astrite’s grip is tight, yes, but not painful. It is the feeling of his skin against yours that makes you shake. From fear, or disgust, you aren’t sure. Perhaps, it is both. “Oh, there it is.” Astrite’s grip softens, his eyes turning fond in a way that make you sick. “Even after all this time, I never tire of seeing you cry.” His grip is cold as ice, and you shut your eyes tight. “And I will miss your tears when you go. All I can hope is that you never stop shedding them.” His other hand reaches up to brush against your hair, and you shake. The door opens behind the two of you, banging loudly against the wall to reveal your father, gazing coldly at you, and Dalia, a hand on her hip already. “Oh, Astrite. You horrible man. It is clear $they have cried. It will be impossible for even makeup to cover it—look at how $they sob<<s>>.” Dalia shakes her head sternly and waltzes into the room, her dress flowing like waves behind her. Astrite releases you, and without hip keeping you upright, you nearly topple over. It takes every bit of strength you have left to stay standing. Dalia takes your arm—whether it’s because she noticed your teetering balance or not is beyond you. She runs her thumb beneath both of your eyes, using her gift on you. You know, as the cool touch fades, that she’s healing the rawness there. She releases you and turns to Astrite, looking him in the eye. “I will excuse your inability to clean up the mess you made.” Her eyelashes flutter. “Since your expertise lies elsewhere.” “Dalia,” Kind Adder calls from the door. “Oh, yes. Of course, you’re right, father.” Dalia turns to you again. “We must get you ready.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chap2">><</button>></span>

<<notify 3s>>Astrite wants to see you break.<</notify>> <<set $charming to Math.clamp($charming - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $reckless to Math.clamp($reckless - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $careful to Math.clamp($careful + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $stoic to Math.clamp($stoic + 5, 0, 100)>> You refuse to meet his eye and keep your teeth clenched tight together. The feeling of his fingers on you has your skin crawling, but there is no sign of it on your face. No, not even your eyes give you away. As far as Astrite is concerned, you are unaffected. Astrite’s grip on you tightens, a smile growing on his face. “It is a marvel how stoic you can be.” His free hand moves up to touch the ends of your hair, as if taunting you. “Oh, how I wish I could see you break. How would your tears fall? How would your anger feel? I want to know.” He looks disappointed. “I wish I could see it. Alas, as you are to go, I will not. It is a shame.” He leans closer to you. “I can only hope that when your new home treats you with scorn, you will cry. I hope you will break.” The door opens and your gaze flies to it, thankful to have something else to focus on. What you see is your father’s cold gaze, and your sister’s keen smile. “Astrite, let go of my $sibling this instant. $They will need to be fixed again if you’re too rough. If you please,” Dalia asks. Astrite releases you, and you are pleased to be able to move your head freely. Dalia strides over to observe you, and when she finds you unharmed, she rounds on Astrite with a pout on her pretty face. “I truly would’ve hoped you’d be more careful on a day like this, Astrite. And I’ve forgiven your lack of ability to heal $them should things get out of hand, since your expertise lies elsewhere. But, there shall be no more roughhousing today. We need $them looking $their best.” “Dalia,” King Adder says from the doorway. “Oh, yes. You are, of course, right, father.” Dalia turns to you. “It’s time to get you ready.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chap2">><</button>></span>

“We don’t have enough time to put you through etiquette, so I’ll give you some advice instead, little $sibling.” Dalia is running her fingers over your $hairstyle hair. “Don’t do anything until someone else does it first. Don’t move—don’t even breathe, dove.” She settles her fingers on your shoulders, her nails digging in to the fabric of your <<cycle "$outfit" autoselect>> <<option "dress">> <<option "jacket">> <</cycle>> “Do you understand?” *[[“… I understand,” you say softly, refusing to meet her eye through the mirror.]] *[[“There wouldn’t be a need for that, if you weren’t selling me off,” you hiss.]] *[[“Yes—don’t breathe. What riveting advice,” you quip with a sharp smile.]] *[[“Okay,” you say, trying to muster up some cheerfulness.]] *[[“I understand,” you say coldly, itching to shake her away.]] *[[You barely nod.]]

<<notify 3s>>Astrite thinks you have fire.<</notify>> <<set $bold to Math.clamp($bold + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $careful to Math.clamp($careful - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $reckless to Math.clamp($reckless + 5, 0, 100)>> You hold his forearm tightly in your hand and pry his fingers off of you, bile rising in the back of your throat. “Get your dirty hands off of me, Astrite.” You’d like to do more than just tell him off. You want to claw out his good eye—spit on his bleeding body. The bastard. Astrite stares quietly at you for a long moment, and for that beat, you actually believe there will be no repercussions. Then: he draws his arm back and strikes you across the cheek. It’s not the pain that sends you tumbling to the floor, but the force of the back of his hand. “You would think that after all these years we’ve spent together, you’d have learned your lesson by now, $name.” Astrite clicks his tongue at you like he’s disappointed. “If today wasn’t such an auspicious occasion, I would teach you a lesson. Alas, this is as far as I may go today.” He bends down to where you’re on the ground, scowling at him. “You have a fire in you, $name. I would find much joy in watching it go out—I hate to see you go. I can only hope that your new home will treat you as kindly as I have here.” Your blood boils at his words, and as he brushes his hand against your $haircolor hair you feel very much like breaking his hand. The door opens with a bang, slamming against the wall. The hand holding it there is none other than your father, who gives you a cold look from where you lay on the ground. “Astrite, please let $them up,” Dalia asks of him, a somewhat frustrated expression on her pretty face—which is not there often. “What if $they are bruised? You certainly didn’t have to harm $their face, if you were scolding $them.” “Forgive me, Your Highness, you’re correct.” Astrite raises his hands and gives you an amused look from above. “I suppose a veil is in order, then.” “And what of when the veil is taken off, then? Hm? Our dear allies would be shocked—they would say we do not care for our own.” Dalia moves to you and caresses your face, without a word to address you. A cool feeling slides over your cheek, and as she pulls away you know that her gift is healing your forming bruise, something that does not happen often. “I will excuse your lack of ability to heal my dear $sibling.” She meets eyes with Astrite. “Since your expertise lies elsewhere.” “Dalia,” the King calls from where he still stands. “Oh, yes. Of course, you’re right, father.” Dalia takes your arm and helps you to your feet. “It’s time to prepare you.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chap2">><</button>></span>

<<set $bold to Math.clamp($bold - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>> You drop your gaze to the vanity that isn’t yours, covered in boxes of jewelry overflowing. The sunlight from the window pours in, and something blue shines to greet it. It is a welcome distraction from Dalia’s cruel $eyecolor eyes, seeking an answer from you. “I understand…” you whisper, pinching the long material of your sleeves between your fingers, twisting it so your hands aren’t idle. Your palms are sweaty. “There you go. It isn’t a hard thing to do, so even you can’t fail.” Dalia smooths a fond, thin hand over your back. “You are so sweet, dove. You will do well.” Her hair brushes your ear as she leans closer. “The nobles find such amusement in docile players—they find them easy to trample upon.” Her voice becomes suddenly serious. “Use that to your advantage. Let them believe you are easy to break, and then show them what you can really do.” Your hands begin to shake, and you cannot muster a reply. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapone3">><</button>></span>

<<set $reckless to Math.clamp($reckless + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $careful to Math.clamp($careful - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $bold to Math.clamp($bold + 5, 0, 100)>> You meet Dalia’s eye in the mirror, and your feelings are clear on your face. But she smiles at your expression, somehow amused by your anger. “There wouldn’t be a need for that, if you weren’t selling me off,” you hiss, fists clenched on your knees. Your knuckles turn white from the force of them, and Dalia laughs sweetly into your ear. “Aren’t you amusing?” she hums, “I’m sure our guests would //adore// your jests, but today is an important day.” Dalia’s hand slides around to cup your throat, and though you don’t think she would, you’re certain her nails are sharp enough to cut you. “Be careful of what you say. If the King of Aslerea were to change his mind about you being the proper match for his $ason, imagine how Astrite would feel.” A bead of sweat rolls down your neck, and your words die in your throat like someone stranded in the desert. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapone3">><</button>></span>

<<set $stoic to Math.clamp($stoic - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $charming to Math.clamp($charming + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $sarcastic to Math.clamp($sarcastic + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $genuine to Math.clamp($genuine - 5, 0, 100)>> You raise your eyebrows at Dalia’s advice, finding it quite funny. Your lips curl at her in the mirror, and you posture relaxes until you’re lounging almost lazily in your seat. “Yes, //don’t breathe—//what riveting advice,” you quip, watching as Dalia’s eyes sharpen. You nearly flinch when her grip on your shoulders tighten, fixing your posture upright. “You are such a joy. I’m sure everyone present at the banquet tonight will find your remarks amusing—the nobles do enjoy someone with a quick wit.” She leans closer, her voice dropping an octave into a tone she scarcely ever uses with you. “But I will tell you this: take whatever advice I graciously offer you, as you are unlikely to get it from anyone else, dove.” As Dalia pulls away, you find your mouth dry, and you cannot remember the words you were going to say. Don’t breathe—okay. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapone3">><</button>></span>

“Okay,” you say, with a waveringly cheerful tone. You flick your gaze to Dalia and then back down, finding her $eyecolor eyes too intense to stare at for long, even though they look so similar to your own. You give her a shaky smile, even though you’re looking at a scratch on the otherwise pristine surface of the vanity. “Good, good,” Dalia praises, her smile softening into something more genuine. “You will certainly brighten everyone’s spirits, dove.” Her eyes dim a bit, and she looks at something beyond you, but still speaks to you. “The nobles are like vultures. They view the young and innocent the same as a dying animal in the road—easy prey. You must show them you are not, yes?” She looks you right at you, then, expecting an answer. “Yes,” you say, because with the way she was staring, you aren’t sure if you could’ve managed anything else. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapone3">><</button>></span>

<<set $stoic to Math.clamp($stoic + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $charming to Math.clamp($charming - 5, 0, 100)>> You refuse to meet her gaze, and refuse to answer her too. Instead, you grace her with a slight, short nod that earns you an amused look. “Have you forgotten your words?” Dalia tilts her head, and your hair brushes your arm with the motion. “Speak when you are spoken to. Imagine the sheer tension there would be if someone asked you a question and all they received in return was complete and utter silence!” Her grip on you tightens. “Is such a person fit to be in the position you are about to be in? I am certain that Astrite taught you how to respond to a person, did he not?” She stares at you. “Tell me.” “…Yes,” you say, the words scratching your throat. They burn on the way out, but Dalia looks pleased, and even better, placated. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapone3">><</button>></span>

Before Dalia ushers you out the door, she pulls from the wrap at her waist, a dagger with an ornate handle, riddled in tacky little gemstones. She offers it to you, her bare hand on the blade, but keeps it just out of your reach. “The success of this banquet is imperative. Father has been scrambling for this alliance for years, and now it’s finally in reach.” She directs the blade playfully toward your neck, and it’s too far away to be threatening. “Once you’re gone, I don’t care what you do. Tonight, when you leave after the banquet, I don’t care what you do.” Dalia raises her eyebrows at you. “But know this: it’s in your good interest to be on your best behavior, so this party goes off without a hitch.” <<if $outfit is "dress">> She holds the dagger up higher, directing your attention to it before she slots it into some sort of pouch on the skirt of your dress. The blade disappears inside of it, leaving only a sliver of the handle visible. “That was specially made, I’ll have you know. Think of this as a parting gift from me to you, little $sibling.” <<else>> She holds the dagger up higher, directing your attention to it before she slots it into some sort of pouch on your jacket. The blade disappears inside of it, leaving only a sliver of the handle visible. “That was specially made, I’ll have you know. Think of this as a parting gift from me to you, little $sibling.” <</if>> *[[“But I-I don’t want a dagger,” you try to say. It made you nervous.]] *[[“No, no. I don’t want it,” you huff, and go to give it back to her.]] *[[“Okay—” You try a smile. “Thank you.]] *[[You take it without question, but let Dalia know you’re unhappy.]]

You fidget in place and stiffen. “I really don’t want—” You look away from Dalia. “I really don’t want a dagger. You can take it back.” “Oh, but it’s a gift, dove.” Dalia taps underneath your chin. “You can’t refuse it. Besides, even trying would be rude.” And so you keep it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone4">><</button>></span>

You grab the handle in a huff. “I don’t want—” Dalia grabs your wrist with a smirk, grip tight. “Calm down, dove. It won’t bite you unless you want it to.” She releases you. “It’s a gift. You can’t just refuse it!” She leans closer. “Besides, don’t you want something to protect yourself with if things go wrong?” You swallow down a snippy response. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone4">><</button>></span>

<<set $sarcastic to Math.clamp($sarcastic - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $genuine to Math.clamp($genuine + 5, 0, 100)>> You attempt to smile at her—thankful that she thought of you at all. Yet, for some reason, it makes you a bit nervous. “Thank you,” you tell Dalia. “Of course, Dove,” is all she says to you, but she looks very pleased that you didn’t argue about taking it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone4">><</button>></span>

Going down the hall to the banquet is nerve wracking. Dalia holds you by the elbow—which looks like a companionable gesture but feels more like she expects you to run away the moment she lets go. Your shoes click against the carpet, and you can hear muffled music coming from the ball room turned banquet area. Light chatter from the guests also reach your ears, and from how you can’t make out a word there must be many present. “Now,” Dalia speaks as you reach the set of towering double doors, drawing you to a stop. “We will enter together and move directly to our seats. You will be at the end of the table, beside Abrin’s empty seat.” *[[“Empty seat? Is he sick?” Your eyebrows furrow in concern.]] *[[“Oh,” you sigh. You won’t be able to say goodbye to him, then.]] *[[“Okay,” you say, unaffected.]] *[[“Good,” you say beneath your breath.]]

“Empty seat?” Dalia looks at you when you speak. “Is Abrin sick?” The brushes of concern cause your eyebrows to furrow. “Yes, unfortunately. It’s a bad look for us, but we couldn’t have him regurgitating his dinner onto the dinner table, now, could we?” It must be a rhetorical question, because she answers herself. “No, we couldn’t. So, yes, he remains in his bedroom. But he, is besides the point. This night is about you.” She points to you loosely, to get her point across. Dalia gestures with a showy motion to the doors, which remain shut. “You will stand when father makes a speech, and then eat lightly when he is done. Exchange pleasantries with your family when the party is over.” She turns to you, her skirt slapping against your leg when she moves. “In this time, all of your belongings will have been packed into travel bags and secured onto the Aslerea royal family’s carriage, where you will ride from the palace to the ship waiting for you at the docks. You will board the ship, and finally sail to Aslerea, where you will marry their heir whenever the King decides. It’s all quite simple, isn’t it?” *[[“…Why must I do this?” You hear your voice crack. “Is this all I’m worth to you?”]] *[[“Quite simple? How would you know? You aren’t the one that’s about to get married to a stranger,” you spit at her.]] *[[“The two of us must have very different ideas of simple, Dalia.” You smile sharply.]] *[[“Yes…,” you say, trying to look past the negative.]] *[[You don’t say a word—it will do no good.]]

“Oh,” you say with a light sigh, disappointed. The fact you won’t be able to say goodbye to him is quite upsetting. “Perhaps, before we go, I can—” “Oh, no, dove.” Dalia shakes her head at you, sternly. “Abrin is getting some well-needed rest and //you// will not have time for such things.” She smiles. “Do not worry about him, tonight is about you.” Dalia gestures with a showy motion to the doors, which remain shut. “You will stand when father makes a speech, and then eat lightly when he is done. Exchange pleasantries with your family when the party is over.” She turns to you, her skirt slapping against your leg when she moves. “In this time, all of your belongings will have been packed into travel bags and secured onto the Aslerea royal family’s carriage, where you will ride from the palace to the ship waiting for you at the docks. You will board the ship, and finally sail to Aslerea, where you will marry their heir whenever the King decides. It’s all quite simple, isn’t it?” *[[“…Why must I do this?” You hear your voice crack. “Is this all I’m worth to you?”]] *[[“Quite simple? How would you know? You aren’t the one that’s about to get married to a stranger,” you spit at her.]] *[[“The two of us must have very different ideas of simple, Dalia.” You smile sharply.]] *[[“Yes…,” you say, trying to look past the negative.]] *[[You don’t say a word—it will do no good.]]

“Okay,” you say, unable to feel upset at the fact that you won’t see Abrin again, likely forever. You’ll likely never be back here, never step foot in this palace again. Dalia seems pleased you don’t ask any questions about your brother, and moves on from the topic in a flash. Dalia gestures with a showy motion to the doors, which remain shut. “You will stand when father makes a speech, and then eat lightly when he is done. Exchange pleasantries with your family when the party is over.” She turns to you, her skirt slapping against your leg when she moves. “In this time, all of your belongings will have been packed into travel bags and secured onto the Aslerea royal family’s carriage, where you will ride from the palace to the ship waiting for you at the docks. You will board the ship, and finally sail to Aslerea, where you will marry their heir whenever the King decides. It’s all quite simple, isn’t it?” *[[“…Why must I do this?” You hear your voice crack. “Is this all I’m worth to you?”]] *[[“Quite simple? How would you know? You aren’t the one that’s about to get married to a stranger,” you spit at her.]] *[[“The two of us must have very different ideas of simple, Dalia.” You smile sharply.]] *[[“Yes…,” you say, trying to look past the negative.]] *[[You don’t say a word—it will do no good.]]

Simple…? Your chest hurts, and you have to stop yourself from reaching for it with your hand. You would be going to a completely foreign kingdom, before you got familiar with your own. “Dalia,” You begin, your gaze low and on the ground so you don’t have to meet her eye. “Why must I do this?” You hear your voice crack. “Is this all I’m worth to you?” Dalia sighs at your questions. “Oh, this.” She makes her voice velvety soft, talking to you like one would a crying child. “Dove, you must understand that we are dying.” She touches your arm. “The Rebellion is growing closer and closer to destroying us as the years pass, and we need this alliance—now more than ever.” She isn’t looking at you now. “What else can we do?” She smiles in your direction. “You are worth a lot to us.” And yet, you still feel wronged. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone5">><</button>></span>

<<set $Daliaslapped to "yes">> You step away from her with large steps, eyebrows furrowing in anger at her voice of words. “//Quite simple?//” You cross your arms. “How would you know that? You aren’t about to get married to a stranger, shipped off to some foreign kingdom. No, you’re the heir! You’re father’s favorite child and I’m just a tool that was collecting dust, locked away in the back of the palace until you or father decided you needed to use me!” Your cheats heaves, exhausted from the anger you carry. Dalia stares at you silently. And though she’s never done so before, you know exactly what’s coming before it comes. Her hand rakes across your cheek and sends you stumbling back a step, and you reach up to touch the cool spot left behind. It won’t leave a mark. “$name,” Dalia says, a rare occasion in which she uses your name, “we need this alliance. The Rebellion grows closer to snuffing us out with every passing day—they are growing in defenses. Do you want to see your family torn apart, hung from the battlements? Because that is the fate that awaits us if you do not get over this childish, selfish anger. I have indulged you enough.” She stares, abnormally calm. “Do you have anything else to say?” You don’t. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone5">><</button>></span>

You run a hand over your hair and look to the double doors, cruel amusement bubbling in your chest. Simple? “The two of us must have very different ideas of simple, Dalia,” you tell her, lips curling keenly. “For me, it may be a walk around the halls—that’s simple. Perhaps, for you, it’s moving to a foreign land to marry a stranger who could be the ugliest thing on earth. I would hate to find out what you think is complicated, sister.” Dalia adjusts your collar with a sharp tug of her fingers. “It may just be that I always look on the bright side, dove. Perhaps you should begin to do the same?” You see amusement in her smile, but ice in her eyes. “I fear you will lead a very unhappy life if you always focus on what is difficult.” She gestures to nothing with her free hand. “For instance, I must look and walk towards the positive for our family. The Rebellion is hot on our tail, and if we do not secure this alliance, I assure you that marrying an ugly stranger will be the least of your worries, dear $sibling.” You can never win with her. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone5">><</button>></span>

Your chest hurts when Dalia talks about what will come. The fact she believes it’s so minor is upsetting. But, you try to look beyond that. Perhaps, this new land will be good for you. You’ll never have to see Astrite again—that thought nearly makes you smile. “Yes,” you simply agree with her, obedient like a puppy because you know. You know that a better life has to be waiting for you somewhere. You can only hope that it’s Aslerea where you’ll find happiness. “There you go,” Dalia praises, running a cold hand over your arm. “Your family needs you right now, dove. This alliance is the only way we can assure our reign continues. The Rebellion will have us if we aren’t careful.” She smiles warmly. “And that’s why you are important. You are keeping us alive.” Your chest aches. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone5">><</button>></span>

You shift and remain silent, your hands clenched tightly in front of you. It is not //quite simple,// that much you know. You aren’t a child and you haven’t been for quite some time. But you also know that Dalia is—well, Dalia. Your sister hums, staring at you with curiosity. “Is this your way of telling me you understand, dove?” Her eyelashes flutter. “The Goddess graced you with a tongue, and I would suggest you use it.” “I understand,” you say flatly. “Good.” Dalia touches your shoulder. “Because, as you must know, we are relying on you now. Your entire family is relying on you, and I would hate to see you lose your words in this time of need for us.” Her grip is like a vice. “The Rebellion is nearly upon us. We cannot have the King put off by your silence, because then, where would we be?” You say nothing, and this time, Dalia tolerates your silence. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone5">><</button>></span>

The ballroom is the largest room you’ve ever seen. The floor is glossy and clearly designed for the constant shuffle of feet upon it, but tonight, there are three long tables there instead. Two of them—one of which Dalia leads you to sit down at—are horizontal from each other. The Royal family sits at the one closest to the edge, while your two guests sit at the one across from you—they are the only people there, a man and a $agender. The last table is vertical, and situated far from the other two tables. It is completely full, of people you assume are the nobles Dalia spoke of. Once you and Dalia take your places, there is a beat of silence until King Adder stands up, raising a gold lined goblet in the air with his hand. “My fine guests, I thank you for your attendance,” he says, and it is the warmest you’ve ever seen him. A smile stretches his mouth. “It’s such a long journey from Aslerea on any standard ship, yet I’m pleased to hear you have a special one in your fleet. If not for it, we would still be decisive on what silverware to lay beside your plates.” A wave of laughter rolls down the noble’s table, and the King of Aslerea raises his glass to acknowledge Adder. “In other words, we are pleased to have you with us so soon.” “And we are pleased to be welcome!” The burly man stands from his seat, clapping his chest. “My $ason has done nothing but speak of your $child since we received your letter.” The man pats the $agender sitting diagonal from him on the shoulder, but $ahe does not appear pleased. “It is a true shame we could see no portrait. I am shamed to admit I have no idea which of your lovely children is my $ason’s betrothed!” The King’s words are clear, and Adder gestures his hand toward you. Then, there is no one in the room who doesn’t have their eyes on you. *[[Shakily stand, blood rushing to your face at the attention you’re receiving.]] *[[Stand up with confidence, even daring to wave at those that stare.]] *[[Remain stubbornly seated.]] *[[Stay seated, but nod in acknowledgment.]]

Your chair scrapes the floor and you cringe at the sound. You can feel your pulse pounding in your wrist as you cup your hands in front of you, standing on shaky knees. You cannot look anyone in the eye, though, so you direct your gaze to the ground. Adder continues. “Forgive me for that, Your Majesty. I merely wanted you to see $them in person, as nothing can portray $them better than the real thing.” “Your words are as pretty as they were in your letters, King Adder,” The King replies, “your $child is truly a sight to behold.” He gestures with his hand. “I know you must dread sending $them away.” “Alas, it’s true,” Adder claims. “As my youngest child, I have spoiled $name endlessly. It will leave a rather large hole in my heart to see $them go. Ever since $their mother passed away—” He clears his throat. “Forgive me.” The King nods in response, a look of pity on his brow. You feel sick. You sit back down. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone6">><</button>></span>

You stand up with a flourish, turning your head to see all the faces in the ballroom. You’ve never experienced this before—all these people staring at you. But it feels you with a warm feeling, just the same. You flick your hand in greeting to them all, though no one bothers to do the same back to you. Adder continues. “Forgive me for that, Your Majesty. I merely wanted you to see $them in person, as nothing can portray $them better than the real thing.” “Your words are as pretty as they were in your letters, King Adder,” The King replies, “your $child is truly a sight to behold.” He gestures with his hand. “I know you must dread sending $them away.” “Alas, it’s true,” Adder claims. “As my youngest child, I have spoiled $name endlessly. It will leave a rather large hole in my heart to see $them go. Ever since $their mother passed away—” He clears his throat. “Forgive me.” The King nods in response, a look of pity on his brow. You feel like laughing. You sit back down. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone6">><</button>></span>

<<set $stayedseated to "yes">> <<notify 3s>>Dalia isn't happy with you.<</notify>> You remain firmly planted in your seat, even as you feel Dalia’s cold stare on your profile. You clutch the bottom of the chair with your fingers, gritting your teeth. You shouldn’t have to cooperate. Adder falters as you remain seated, but still continues. “Forgive me for that, Your Majesty. I merely wanted you to see $them in person, as nothing can portray $them better than the real thing.” “Your words are as pretty as they were in your letters, King Adder,” The King replies, “your $child is truly a sight to behold.” He gestures with his hand. “I know you must dread sending $them away.” “Alas, it’s true,” Adder claims. “As my youngest child, I have spoiled $name endlessly. It will leave a rather large hole in my heart to see $them go. Ever since $their mother passed away—” He clears his throat. “Forgive me.” The King nods in response, a look of pity on his brow. You want to scream. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone6">><</button>></span>

<<set $stayedseated to "yes">> <<notify 3s>>Dalia isn't happy with you.<</notify>> You don’t move, even as you feel Dalia’s gaze on you. Your jaw clenches, and you nod to your father, the motion sharp and unfeeling. Adder falters as you remain seated, but still continues after he sees you nod. “Forgive me for that, Your Majesty. I merely wanted you to see $them in person, as nothing can portray $them better than the real thing.” “Your words are as pretty as they were in your letters, King Adder,” The King replies, “your $child is truly a sight to behold.” He gestures with his hand. “I know you must dread sending $them away.” “Alas, it’s true,” Adder claims. “As my youngest child, I have spoiled $name endlessly. It will leave a rather large hole in my heart to see $them go. Ever since $their mother passed away—” He clears his throat. “Forgive me.” The King nods in response, a look of pity on his brow. You stare straight ahead, your face giving nothing away. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone6">><</button>></span>

The whole night is just one blur. You hardly touch your food, as you find you have no appetite. Every second that passes just reminds you that you’re about to board a ship, and likely never hear from your family again. You watch your father laugh with Dalia, carefree in a way you didn’t know was possible. You’ve never seen him smile before. You can’t even tell if it’s for the public, or genuine. You are isolated at the end of the table, the space were Abrin is meant to be empty, as Dalia said it would be. Now, there’s only a bare chair between you and your siblings, and your father. You are alone. *[[And you feel like you could cry. Why can’t they accept you?]] *[[And you want to scream. They treat you like a disease.]] *[[You're numb.]]

You look away from them, as they are too bright for you to look at. They radiate a warmth of family, a warmth that slips from your reach each time you reach out for it. It is something you will never have, no matter how much you want it. And now that you’re leaving, you will never have the chance to reach out for it again. No one pays you any more attention as the night goes on, and no one notices the errant tears that fall from your cheeks either. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone7">><</button>></span>

You hold your fork tightly in your hand until it digs into your skin, and even the pain that sparks from it can’t distract you from the anger you feel when you look toward your family—your family, that’s throwing you away with smiles on their faces. You will be gone, and nothing will change. Everything will go on as it always has—like you don’t exist. No one notices you stabbing your food instead of eating it. No one cares. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone7">><</button>></span>

You bring something to your mouth from your plate that you can’t taste. It feels like ash in your mouth, but nevertheless, you chew and swallow. The laughter that reaches you bounces around in your skull, taunting you with what you will never have, taunting you with something you will never do with your family. But you don’t bite at it. You can’t bring yourself to care about such things. They may laugh all they want, they may smile all they wish. You can’t mourn the loss of something you’ve never had. But at the same time, there's an anger in your chest. There's a sadness too. But there's so faded that you can't take hold of them, like you're grasping at the fraying threads of the person you should be. You finish your food, but find everything tasteless. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone7">><</button>></span>

<<if $stayedseated is "yes">> And the first thing she does is slap you across the cheek, her face calm, like she was giving a simple greeting. She adjusts her sleeve, giving you a cold stare as you reach up to touch the cool spot. <<if $Daliaslapped is "yes">> Like the slap from earlier, this one will not leave a mark.<<else>>She has never hit you before, but somehow, you know it will not leave a mark.<</if>> “I’m sure you’re quite pleased with what you did. Such an act of rebellion, well done.” Dalia’s laugh is like a blade—sharp and cutting. “I hope my reprimand was enough to show you how minuscule your actions were, dove.” She gives you a stern stare. “You are quite fortunate that I am in a forgiving mood, otherwise I would call Astrite over for the farewell he so desperately desires.” *[[“Don’t call Astrite!” You whimper. “I’m sorry.”]] *[[“I would hate to see you in a worse mood than this,” you whisper under your breath.]] *[[“Go on, then! Call him. I’m not afraid.” Your anger gets the better of you—Astrite’s name is enough to strike fear.]] *[[Sigh quietly. You are so tired.]] *[[Your stare is livid, but silently so.]] <<else>> She sweeps over to you with a gentle smile on her face, clasping your hand in her own. “You did well tonight, dove. You did very, very well.” She ushers you outside, though all you did was stand when you were meant to. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone8">><</button>></span> <</if>>

“Don’t call him,” you say as your voice cracks, “I’m sorry. Please, don’t call him.”You hold your hand to your cheek, because even though the pain is not so severe as one from Astrite would’ve been, it still hurts. You tilt your head down, lips twisted into a frown. “Don’t.” “Oh, dove,” Dalia comforts, running her hand along your arm. “Don’t be frightened, I won’t call him.” She smiles. “I’m glad to see you’ve learned your lesson. It’s important to learn from your mistakes, don’t you think?” “Yes,” you answer, because you know that’s what she wants to hear. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone8">><</button>></span>

You nurse your cheek with your hand, shifting on your feet as you try to muster some sort of remark. The pain on your face, and the gravity of the night have you feeling drained, however. “I would hate to see you in a worse mood than this,” is all you can manage to say, and it ends up seriously spoken instead of in jest, as you’d meant it. Yet, Dalia doesn’t seem upset by it. She gives you a pleased look. “You will not easily upset me, dove, know that.” She smiles, looking off to the side. “No one may easily upset me.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone8">><</button>></span>

“Go on, then!” A hot feeling flashes through your veins. “Call him, I’m not afraid!” They are words you wish you could mean. You wish you could be fearless, you wish there was nothing holding you back. But, you know that Astrite’s mere presence is nothing to scoff at. The man is nothing but pure, unadulterated madness, and even you would want nothing to do with his true ire. “Oh, dove.” Dalia gives you a look you can’t quite place the meaning of. “We both know that if there’s anything you fear in this world, it’s Astrite. Do not let your anger blind you—it will lead you to places you don’t want to be. It will have repercussions you aren’t ready for.” And you don’t say anything else, because there’s some part of Dalia’s words that are right. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone8">><</button>></span>

You don’t say a word. You don’t even reach up to touch your cheek. Your limbs feel so heavy—you want nothing more than to rest. The past few days—this entire night has been too much for you, as they are more than you’ve ever experienced. And you know that the time to rest isn’t yet upon you, so you sigh. “Oh, dove.” Dalia gives you a long look. “It won’t be long now, I promise. I know that these recent days have been overwhelming. Not for much longer.” You can only hope that Dalia is right. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone8">><</button>></span>

Dalia steps into the moonless night, holding your elbow as she leads you to the carriage awaiting you. The heels of her shoes make no sound on the hard ground, to the point where it’s nearly abnormal. The carriage is big enough for two people, and even in the dark you can tell just how elaborate it is. It will take you to the docks, where you will board the ship Dalia talked about. You will leave Serona. Dalia pulls you to a stop, just an inch from the carriage door. “This must be sudden, dove.” She runs her hand over your $hairlength hair. “Your life is changing. I only ask that you take advantage of it.” She looks up at the sky, where the moon should be. “But you are not free.” She looks at you now. “This place will be yet another cage for you. I ask that you will prosper.” She places a hand flat on your back, opens the carriage door in a smooth gesture, and pushes you inside. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone9">><</button>></span>

You stumble inside of the carriage, hardly making it into the seat before you hear Dalia tell the man at the front to get going. She certainly made no time for a heartfelt goodbye—though she wouldn’t have given one anyway. You blink, and as your sight adjusts to the lighting, you meet eyes with a $agender who is staring at you with a blankness. *[[“Who are you?!” Pull your dagger out.]] *[[“Who are you?” Crowd against the back of your seat—scream for help if you have to.]]

<<set $lostdagger to "yes">> Some sort of instinct inside of you has you clutching at your $outfit, grasping the handle of the dagger Dalia gave you in your fingers and pulling it from it’s prison. You’ve never wielded a weapon before, so you point the blade stiffly at the stranger as you demand, “Who are you!? This is my carriage!” “Is it?” The $agender’s voice is deep and baritone, “I find that hard to believe.” $aHe grasps the blade of your dagger with $aher bare hand, slipping it easily from your hold. You gasp and leap for the dagger, but the $agender sticks $aher forearm in your path like a wall. “Next time you threaten someone with a weapon,” $ahe starts, “I suggest that you know exactly //who// you’re threatening first.” $aHe pulls back the curtain at the window and tosses the dagger outside with a mere flick of $aher fingers. “You spent hours with me in the same room, and you don’t even know who I am?” A sharp realization cuts through your mourning of your lost weapon. “You’re—” “That’s right,” $ahe says, “your betrothed.” As $ahe sits back, you examine $aher face. You hadn’t had much chance to do so at the banquet—you’d been far too deep in your thoughts. But the clear fact about $ahim, is that $ahe is pretty. Dark blue eyes and straight black hair that<<if $agender is "woman">> flows down her back. Her features are intense, and her expression is blank. And yet, her full lips suggest a possibility of something softer. You don't dwell on it.<<else>>swoops over his brow, and ends just over the start of his ear. His features are intense, and his expression is blank. And yet, his full lips suggest a possibility of something softer. You don't dwell on it.<</if>> <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone10">><</button>></span>

You press against the back of the seat, putting as much distance between you and the stranger as possible. The $agender makes no move toward you, and $ahe says nothing. “Who are you?” you question, your voice shaky. “It //would// be my fortune to be cursed this way, ” $ahe sighs, “are you really so careless? We spent hours in the same room together, and you cannot even recognize me? You are—” You begin to scream: “Help! Help, there’s a—!” But the $agender shoots forward to slam a hand over your mouth, $aher brow twitching with irritation. And then, a realization flows through you, sharp and quick. “You’re—” “That’s right,” $ahe says, “your betrothed.” As $ahe pulls back, you examine $aher face. You hadn’t had much chance to do so at the banquet—you’d been far too deep in your thoughts. But the clear fact about $ahim, is that $ahe is pretty. Dark blue eyes and straight black hair that<<if $agender is "woman">> flows down her back. Her features are intense, and her expression is blank. And yet, her full lips suggest a possibility of something softer. You don't dwell on it.<<else>>swoops over his brow, and ends just over the start of his ear. His features are intense, and his expression is blank. And yet, his full lips suggest a possibility of something softer. You don't dwell on it.<</if>> <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone10">><</button>></span>

The rest of the trip to the ship is spent in pure, undiluted silence. Only the rock of the carriage, and the sounds of the entourage moving with it outside, could be heard. At one point, you leaned your head against the window, and dozed off. It had been days since you slept last, so the rest was long overdue. You aren’t sure how much time passed, but when you woke to someone shaking your shoulder—which was $aname, though you weren’t sure if you were meant to call $ahim that or not—you could tell by a new smell that you were at the coast. “Compose yourself and hurry out,” $aname says, “we have to board the ship now.” $aHe exchanges no other words with you, and steps out of the carriage. You rub away the line of drool on your chin, <<cycle "$feelings" autoselect>> <<option "embarrassed">> <<option "annoyed">> <<option "unaffected">> <</cycle>> by $aname’s words, and follow $ahim out. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone11">><</button>></span>

You’ve never been so far from the palace before, and you take your time to look around where you’ve ended up. The docks looked like what you expected. There are several enormous ships docked ahead of you, though there’s only one which people are loading things onto. The ship you see $aname boarding is unlike any of the other ships around it. It is bigger, grander, and overall, stunning. But there’s also something else—something you can’t quite place. There’s a kind of magic around it, suggesting it was much more than it seemed. “She is quite the beauty, isn’t she?” A voice sounds from your left, and as you turn, a $rgender wearing an incredibly low-cut shirt is there, grinning at you. “My pride and joy.” “You’re the captain?” you ask, and it’s only because $rhe seems so young—too young to be such a thing. “Right you are,” the $rgender laughs, sliding your hand into $rher own, and planting a kiss on your knuckles. “And you, must be my precious cargo.” Green eyes shimmer with delight at the sight of you, tan skin looking a tad darker in the shadows of the night. *[[You flush. “O-Oh, no, I’m not precious.”]]$flirt_label *[[Your skin warms pleasantly, and you smile keenly. No one’s ever talked to you like this before, but you like it.]] $flirt_label *[[The sudden hot feeling in your face confuses you, and you pull away stiffly. “We should board the ship.”]]$flirt_label *[[Slide your hand away. “Um, shall we be going?”]] *[[“Let go of my hand—unless you want to be missing your own,” you say sharply.]]

“Um.” You blink very slowly at the stranger, slowly urging your hand free with the gentleness of a rejection. “Shall we be going?” “I suppose we shall,” $rHe says with a curious eye, taking your denial in stride. “Better hurry too, lest $aname scold the both of us.” “$rname!” $aname calls from where $ahe stands, leaning over the edge of the ship. “We have to set sail. Get up here, now.” $aHe stares sternly, then promptly disappears, walking away from the railing. “Speak of the devil.” $rname grins. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone12">><</button>></span>

You narrow your gaze and make your position clear. “Let go of my hand—unless you want to be missing your own.” Your words are sharp, and hopefully, they cut the way you mean them to. “No need to get violent,” the stranger says, freeing your hand in a flash. But $rhe grins at you, still, like your threat was amusing instead of, well, threatening. “I would very much like to keep my hands—they are indeed my livelihood.” “$rname!” $aname calls from where $ahe stands, leaning over the edge of the ship. “We have to set sail. Get up here, now.” $aHe stares sternly, then promptly disappears, walking away from the railing. “Wouldn’t want to keep $aname waiting, would we?” $rname rolls $rher eyes playfully. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone12">><</button>></span>

You blink rapidly, confused at the way the $rgender stared at you. It was a way new thing, something that made your pulse rush in your throat. You tilted your head down, struggling to get proper air into your lungs. “O-Oh.” You feel heat on your face. “No, I’m not precious.” “Hm?” $rHe leans toward you, rubbing a thumb over the kiss $rhe gave you. “I think I’ll be the one to say so.” You struggle for something else to say—but thankfully, you don’t have to come up with anything. “$rname!” $aname calls from where $ahe stands, leaning over the edge of the ship. “We have to set sail. Get up here, now.” $aHe then promptly disappears, walking away from the railing. “Alas.” $rname releases you. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone12">><</button>></span>

You press forward, your head reeling at the way you have no idea what you’re doing. “That I am.” The words flow from you naturally, coating your tongue like a familiar flavor you hadn’t tried in years. It felt like an instinct. “Oh? A $person that knows $their worth?” The $rgender’s green eyes sparkle with delight. “There’s nothing better.” The moment is ruined, however. “$rname!” $aname calls from where $ahe stands, leaning over the edge of the ship. “We have to set sail. Get up here, now.” $aHe then promptly disappears, walking away from the railing. “Alas.” $rname releases you. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone12">><</button>></span>

$rname leads you onto the ship, where you have to avoid running into someone at every turn. The crew is working hard to get everything from the carriages onto the ship. “Ah, there you are, my dear!” The King calls out to you where he’s standing on deck, next to his $ason. “Come, come here.” The man is large—bigger than his $ason and twice as wide. He looks like he could lift two full grown men at a time, though you may be exaggerating. Once you’ve reached him, he gathers you in his arms and hugs you like he’s greeting a long lost friend. It is a gesture you’ve never experienced before. It’s warm, like you can vaguely remember Reina’s hugs being. But it’s also suffocating, as he’s squeezing you tight. But you aren’t scared in a way. You feel…safe in his arms. *[[You tear up a bit at the feeling.]] *[[You hug him back just as enthusiastically.]] *[[Pat his back stiffly.]] *[[You flinch away, confused and taken aback by the sudden affection.]]

Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, and your arms can’t reach all the way around him. You feel more affection from this man you’ve just met than anyone in your family ever gave you. You feel tears prickle your eyes, and as the King releases you, he gives you a pitying look. “Don’t cry, dear.” He takes your hand in his. “I know this must be strange—leaving the home you know to come to some place new. But I assure you that you will be treated well in Aslerea. You will want for nothing.” He smiles at you, the corners of his lips disappearing beneath his mustache. “I’m sure you’re tired. How about I show you to your room? Hm?” You rub away the forming tears and nod. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone13">><</button>></span>

You toss your arms around him, and though they don’t fit all the way, you squeeze him tight. There is something in the hug that fills you with warmth you haven’t felt since Reina. It makes you happy, even though you were upset just moments before. When the King releases you, he pats your shoulder with a bellowing laugh. “Oh! The two of us will get along just fine, then.” He smiles at you, the corners of his lips disappearing beneath his mustache. “I’m sure you’re tired. How about I show you to your room? Hm?” “Alright, lead the way!” you say, your chest still warm. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone13">><</button>></span>

You’ve never been hugged in such a way before, so you don’t really know how to act. You shift in his hold and pat his back stiffly, hoping to contribute to the embrace. At your feeble attempt, the King’s back rumbles with laughter until he releases you, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “We’ll have to get you used to those hugs, won’t we?” He smiles at you, the corners of his lips disappearing beneath his mustache. “I’m sure you’re tired. How about I show you to your room? Hm?” “Please,” you say. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone13">><</button>></span>

The King asks you to call him Barrett, and you’re led down below deck and taken to a door which will be your chambers for the duration of the trip. You find your things already there, waiting for you. And Barrett and the others don’t stay long at all, since they seem to have something to do regarding departure. And so, you’re left alone in a bedroom once more. And you sit on the side of the bed, staring at the wall across from you as the ship rocks so gently you can hardly feel it. This is it, you know. A new life—a new beginning? <span class="next"><<button "You Sleep" "chapeone14">><</button>></span>

<<fadein 5s>><div class="begin3">The Next Morning.</div><</fadein>> In the morning you wake to soft sunlight shining through the small window in your room—cabin, it was called, you think. You aren’t sure how long you slept, but if how high the sun is tells you anything, it was for a while. You shift and realize you slept in your clothes from the night before, so you perch one of your carrying bags on the bed you slept in and choose some fresh things to wear. <<if $lostdagger is "yes">> Since $aname discarded of your dagger, you don't have to store it anywhere else. You wonder if anyone picked it up when $ahe threw it out. <<else>> You store the dagger in your shoe, as you aren't really sure where else to put it. <</if>> And just as you’ve finished dressing, there’s a sharp knock on the door, and when you open it, it’s $aname, with two people behind $aher dressed like servants. “You’re already dressed,” $ahe says flatly, but you detect a hint of surprise in $aher blue eyes. *[[Yes…?” you ask softly, fidgeting.]] $flirt_label *[[“What would that be surprising? Are you disappointed?” You lean against the door frame.]] $flirt_label *[[“Which I’m perfectly capable of doing,” you say defensively, feeling oddly warm at the dark stare you’re receiving.]] $flirt_label *[[“Is that a problem?” You blink.]] *[[“I realize,” you say blandly.]]

You tug at your sleeve, shifting from foot to foot under $aname’s attention, which has the back of your neck warming in a way you can’t describe. “Yes…?” You clear your throat when you hear how soft your voice is. “Yes? Is there a problem…?” “There’s no need for you,” $ahe speaks to the people behind him, who bow and shuffle away and out of sight. “It’s no problem, I just wasn’t expecting you to be able to dress by yourself.” “What?” It’s a strange thing for $aher to say, you think. “I haven’t had someone help me dress since I was young.” “But you’re—” $aname stops, snapping $aher mouth shut and moving on. “Come to the deck with me. My father wants to speak with you.” “Alright,” you mumble, nodding once even though you’d already agreed. “Let’s go.” $aname gives you a lingering look, though it isn’t of interest or disdain. No, it looks more like confusion. “Follow me, then.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone15">><</button>></span>

You shift all your weight to one side of your body, pressing your elbow to the door frame and leaning against it. “Why would that be surprising?” You observe $aname, because even with $aher dull expression, $ahe is still quite an image to look at. “Are you disappointed?” You watch as $aname’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, only for $ahim to turn away to stare at the servants behind $ahim. “There’s no need for you. Go—” $aHe clears $aher throat. “Go see to your other duties.” $aHe doesn’t turn back to you until the servants are gone, and when $ahe does $aher expression is back to normal. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be able to dress yourself.” “What?” It’s a strange thing for $ahim to say, you think. “I haven’t had someone help me dress since I was—” “I’m not disappointed,” $aname cuts you off, $aher expression unflinching. “Follow me, my father wants to speak to you.” You blink. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone15">><</button>></span>

“Is that a problem?” you ask, rubbing your arm. “Should I have waited for someone?” “No, there’s no problem.” $aname gestures with $aher hand at the servants behind $aher. “Attend to your other duties.” And as they go, $ahe turns back to you. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be able to dress by yourself. “That’s unexpected,” $aname says simply. “My father wants to speak with you, so follow me.” You nod and blink, and $ahe walks away from the door. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone15">><</button>></span>

You make a show of looking down at your clothes, touching your sleeve, and then your collar. “I realize,” you say blandly. $aname’s brow twitches, and $ahe turns to address the people behind $aher. “Go attend to you other duties.” When $ahe turns back to you, $aher tone is a bit more flat. “Come with me.” $aHe refuses to elaborate any further either, as $ahe turns on $aher heel and walks off, not bothering to check if you were following. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone15">><</button>></span>

King Barrett is sitting in a velvety looking chair by the side of the ship, looking out at the water with a calm expression on his face. When you and his $ason approach, he doesn’t look toward you to greet you. “I hope you slept well?” He’s holding a cup and saucer that look almost alarmingly small compared to the size of his hands. *[[“Better than I have in a long time,” you say with genuine emotion.]] *[[“It was like being rocked to sleep,” you say with a grin.]] *[[“It doesn’t matter,” you say, thinking about the nightmares that still plague you.]]

You turn your head to look out where Barrett stares, out at the horizon. Not only did you sleep well, you felt at peace for the first time in a while. “Better than I have in a long time,” you admit, a smile on your face. “I’m glad to hear it, because once we arrive at the palace, there may not be much time for you to rest.” He sets his teacup aside on a small oval table and waves a hand in the air. “$rname! How much longer until we make port?” “Not much longer now, Your Majesty!” $rname slides down the short chunk of stairs leading to the helm, and though $rhe does it with style it’s wholly unnecessary. “A few hours, at most.” “A few hours?” You blink. “We left Serona last night? I thought Aslerea was very far. To be so close now should be—” “—Impossible?” $rname interrupts. “On any ship but //Tidebreaker,// it would be!” $rHe gestures with $rher hand, with clear pride of $rher ship. “No, she is special. She can get to any place, no matter how far, within a day.” “What? How?” you ask, <<cycle "$feelings" autoselect>> <<option "confused.">> <<option "curious.">> <<option "amazed.">> <<option "skeptical.">> <</cycle>> “Well, it became possible when—” $rHe starts. “No, no, $rname. Please, don’t bore $them.” Barrett leans closer to you. “$rHe changes the story every time, the liar.” “You wound me, Your Majesty!” $rname runs a hand through $rher dark brown hair, carting $rher fingers all the way through to the ends that just brush $rher shoulders. “I simply tell you a new part of the story each time.” “Oh, I’m sure the time you fought a man blindfolded with your arms tied behind your back really adds onto the time you were shipwrecked on an island, full of vicious humanoid spider creatures,” Barrett snips, but the tone of his voice still remains fond. “Well, it could. What if the man was the one that shipwrecked me, hm?!” $rname huffs. “Oh, I thought he fell overboard into a circle of hungry sharks. Did he come back to life and shipwreck you for revenge?” “It very well could have happened, Your Majesty,” $rname claims haughtily. “Father,” $aname cuts in, “what did you need from the $title?” “Oh!” Barrett stands from his seat, bracing a hand on the arm rest. “Walk with me, $name.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone16">><</button>></span>

“I did,” you say. The bed provided to you had been no more or less comfortable than the one back home, so you slept well. “Good to hear it. You may not get much rest when we arrive at the palace.” He sets his teacup aside on a small oval table and waves a hand in the air. “$rname! How much longer until we make port?” “Not much longer now, Your Majesty!” $rname slides down the short chunk of stairs leading to the helm, and though $rhe does it with style it’s wholly unnecessary. “A few hours, at most.” “A few hours?” You blink. “We left Serona last night? I thought Aslerea was very far. To be so close now should be—” “—Impossible?” $rname interrupts. “On any ship but //Tidebreaker,// it would be!” $rHe gestures with $rher hand, with clear pride of $rher ship. “No, she is special. She can get to any place, no matter how far, within a day.” “What? How?” you ask, <<cycle "$feelings" autoselect>> <<option "confused.">> <<option "curious.">> <<option "amazed.">> <<option "skeptical.">> <</cycle>> “Well, it became possible when—” $rHe starts. “No, no, $rname. Please, don’t bore $them.” Barrett leans closer to you. “$rHe changes the story every time, the liar.” “You wound me, Your Majesty!” $rname runs a hand through $rher dark brown hair, carting $rher fingers all the way through to the ends that just brush $rher shoulders. “I simply tell you a new part of the story each time.” “Oh, I’m sure the time you fought a man blindfolded with your arms tied behind your back really adds onto the time you were shipwrecked on an island, full of vicious humanoid spider creatures,” Barrett snips, but the tone of his voice still remains fond. “Well, it could. What if the man was the one that shipwrecked me, hm?!” $rname huffs. “Oh, I thought he fell overboard into a circle of hungry sharks. Did he come back to life and shipwreck you for revenge?” “It very well could have happened, Your Majesty,” $rname claims haughtily. “Father,” $aname cuts in, “what did you need from the $title?” “Oh!” Barrett stands from his seat, bracing a hand on the arm rest. “Walk with me, $name.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone16">><</button>></span>

You rub the back of your neck, your lips curling into a grin. “It was like being rocked to sleep.” Which was true—your sleep had come as easy as it could have. “I felt the same way!” Barrett chuckles. “And I’m glad to hear it, because once we arrive at the palace, there may not be much time for you to rest.” He sets his teacup aside on a small oval table and waves a hand in the air. “$rname! How much longer until we make port?” “Not much longer now, Your Majesty!” $rname slides down the short chunk of stairs leading to the helm, and though $rhe does it with style it’s wholly unnecessary. “A few hours, at most.” “A few hours?” You blink. “We left Serona last night? I thought Aslerea was very far. To be so close now should be—” “—Impossible?” $rname interrupts. “On any ship but //Tidebreaker,// it would be!” $rHe gestures with $rher hand, with clear pride of $rher ship. “No, she is special. She can get to any place, no matter how far, within a day.” “What? How?” you ask, <<cycle "$feelings" autoselect>> <<option "confused.">> <<option "curious.">> <<option "amazed.">> <<option "skeptical.">> <</cycle>> “Well, it became possible when—” $rHe starts. “No, no, $rname. Please, don’t bore $them.” Barrett leans closer to you. “$rHe changes the story every time, the liar.” “You wound me, Your Majesty!” $rname runs a hand through $rher dark brown hair, carting $rher fingers all the way through to the ends that just brush $rher shoulders. “I simply tell you a new part of the story each time.” “Oh, I’m sure the time you fought a man blindfolded with your arms tied behind your back really adds onto the time you were shipwrecked on an island, full of vicious humanoid spider creatures,” Barrett snips, but the tone of his voice still remains fond. “Well, it could. What if the man was the one that shipwrecked me, hm?!” $rname huffs. “Oh, I thought he fell overboard into a circle of hungry sharks. Did he come back to life and shipwreck you for revenge?” “It very well could have happened, Your Majesty,” $rname claims haughtily. “Father,” $aname cuts in, “what did you need from the $title?” “Oh!” Barrett stands from his seat, bracing a hand on the arm rest. “Walk with me, $name.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone16">><</button>></span>

Barrett doesn’t go very far, actually. He moves a short distance away from the others, and looks out at the water again, his gray streaked black hair swaying in the breeze. “When we reach Aslerea, there will be much to do,” he speaks. “The banquet to celebrate your arrival must be planned—though I’m sure you’re tired of those. We must introduce you to your tutor and the staff that will be attending you.” In the bright light of the sun, you see just how tired he looks. “I wish there was a way I could let you rest, but the role of a royal is always demanding.” He smiles a bit, though there’s a melancholy touch to it. “There’s always something to be done.” *[[“Is there?” you ask softly, as you wouldn’t really know.]] *[[“It sounds like a bore to be King,” you joke.]] *[[“Do you not enjoy it?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.]] *[[“The one I know didn’t feel that way,” you note bitterly, mostly to yourself.]]

You stare silently at his profile for a long moment. “Is there?” you ask softly, because even though you’re royalty in name, you’ve never truly experienced the responsibilities that came with the title. “Well, yes, I think so.” Barrett gives you a look, though it’s so mixed in emotions you can’t place the meaning of it. “If you’re not listening to the people complain, you’re fixing what they complain about. If you aren’t making leaps and bounds to avoid conflict, you’re working day and night to make certain you won’t run out of resources.” “It does seem like a lot,” you admit gently, because the King truly does seem a bit stressed. “And it is for that very reason that I’ll give you and my $ason a stable kingdom to inherit,” he claims, clapping your shoulder warmly. “Come, sit with me.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone17">><</button>></span>

<<set $charming to Math.clamp($charming + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $stoic to Math.clamp($stoic - 5, 0, 100)>> “It sounds like a bore to be King,” you say with amusement in your tone. “How do you have time for excitement?” You tilt your head at him. “Do you have any free time?” “Well, there are moment like this that are free,” Barrett says with great thought. “But even now, I’m thinking about the things I must do when I return to Aslerea. And I don’t dread it—it’s an important duty. I’m in charge of many, many people who rely on me day and night.” He nudges you with his elbow. “But it does get somewhat dull, I’ll admit. Perhaps, with you here, I won’t find thing quite so boring?” “Why, yes, Your Majesty,” you hum with a grin, “I’ll be sure to entertain you.” Barrett laughs heartily at that. “Come, sit with me.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone17">><</button>></span>

You stare at Barrett’s profile. “Do you not enjoy it?” It might not be the most respectful question to ask, but you can’t help yourself. He seems unbothered by it, and he answers: “Such a role isn’t something you enjoy.” He glances toward you, a smile on his face that looks a tad melancholy. “You can take pleasure in some of the privileges that come with it. If your finances are well, you want for nothing. You can provide a good life for your family and your people.” He looks back toward the horizon. “But being a ruler requires you to make many difficult decisions. You can never please everyone, and sometimes, you please no one. And yet it’s still your duty to protect and care for those weaker than you. Even if you must do things the people don’t agree with, in the end, you must, if it’s how you protect them.” He looks back at you. “I see,” you whisper, because you feel like he’s admitted something to you he hasn’t talked about with many others. “I’ve said too much,” Barrett says good-naturedly “Come, sit with me.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone17">><</button>></span>

You spend the rest of the voyage sitting with Barrett, as was requested. He sips the same cup of tea for the few hours until land is spotted. And even when the said seen land was a mere blip in the distance, you could see hordes upon hordes of people surrounding the docks where the ship would make port. Whether it was $rname’s group of adoring worshipers, as $ahe so claimed, or loyal subjects awaiting the return of their King, was yet to be seen. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone18">><</button>></span>

The screaming is deafening when you finally arrive, so much so, you’re surprised that they don’t attempt to climb onto the ship before it’s safely secured. $aname catches your arm in the chaos of transferring things from the ship—travel bags and such—and $ahe slings a cloak around your head without much ceremony. “What—” you start, adjusting the hood so it isn’t obscuring your view. “They won’t be welcoming,” $ahe says simply, yanking the hood to cover your eyes once more. “It’s best that they don’t see you. But you’ll be getting into one of our carriages, so they’ll know who you are. Keep hidden or don’t, it makes no difference to me.” $aHe gives you a short look, then moves away and out of sight in the hustle and bustle, giving you no time for a reply. “Don’t mind $ahim, $name,” Barrett says as he comes to stand by your side. “$aHe is wound tight—but $ahe is also right. Keep the hood up, and hurry to the carriage, hm?” *[[“Why won’t they be welcoming?” you ask, face full of concern.]] *[[“Wound tight?” You huff a laugh. “More like there’s something tight up—”]] *[[“What happens if I don’t wear the cloak?” you ask, a bit miffed at being told what to do.]] *[[“I’ll wear it, if you tell me why I must,” you tell him simply.]]

You stare out at the crowd of screaming, worry tightening your chest. “Why won’t they be welcoming?” you ask, concern clear in your voice. Barrett sighs, touching your shoulder warmly. “They know no better. I will explain more at the palace, but they have been restless as of late. Their opinions of your kingdom are not the most ideal. This alliance—” The King clears his throat, cutting himself off. “As I said, I’ll explain more once we reach the palace. Come.” He wraps an arm around you protectively, guiding you off the ship. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone19">><</button>></span>

<<set $stoic to Math.clamp($stoic - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $charming to Math.clamp($charming + 5, 0, 100)>> You stare after $aname with both amusement and annoyance running through your veins. “Wound tight?” you say without thinking. “It’s more like there’s something right up $aher—” You clear your throat to cut yourself off, because you realize, in that moment, that you are talking to $aher father. “Now, now, don’t be like that,” Barrett laughs. “Let’s hurry to the carriage, shall we? I’ll explain once we reach the palace, I assure you.” He wraps an arm around you protectively, guiding you off the ship. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone19">><</button>></span>

You shuffle a bit and hold tight onto the fabric of the cloak, irritation running hot through you. “And if I don’t wear the cloak?” Barrett scratches at his beard and looks away from you. “They would know what you look like. That won’t be an issue in the future, of course. But now, the best thing is to keep your face hidden—for your own safety. I //will// explain at the palace. I don’t say this to upset you in any way.” His voice is calm. Your feelings ease, and you adjust the cloak on your head. “Alright.” He wraps an arm around you protectively, guiding you off the ship. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone19">><</button>></span>

The screaming ceases the moment you step off the ship with Barrett. It’s an eerie quiet, compared to the level of noise hardly seconds before. The hush is sudden and unexpected. With your cloak covering your face, you feel safe enough with the King at your side, his large frame guiding you. And at first, you think you’ll reach the carriage already waiting ahead of you. You think you’ll reach it with no trouble. But then, the chaos begins again—this time violent. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone20">><</button>></span>

It starts with someone screaming toward the back of the crowd—you can’t really make it out, but it sounds like: “That’s $them! From Serona!” And there’s a roar of animosity, angry shouts, and yells. It’s not the same as it was when the ship pulled into port, those screams had been excited. These. These were different. If it weren’t for the guards with their arms spread wide—some had been waiting at the docks and some had been on the ship with you—you’re sure they would’ve swarmed you. All their voices merge together, to the point where you can’t make out what they’re saying. You can hardly catch the obscenities they throw at you. And even after Barrett urges you into the carriage with a hand on your back, they don’t quiet. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone21">><</button>></span>

The ride to the palace is not very long, but it does indeed feel that way in the silence that sits with you. You are the only one in the carriage—you aren’t sure where Barrett and $aname ended up. But it does leave you to your thoughts, as much as you don’t want to be alone with them. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone22">><</button>></span>

When you arrive, the door opens for you immediately. Barrett takes your hand to help you down, looking a bit frazzled. His large frame blocks your view of anything else, and so you stare at him until he speaks. “That must’ve been alarming,” he says sheepishly. “I thought they would react that way. I should’ve prepared better for it—forgive me.” He offers a tense smile and slides to the side, revealing two people standing attentively behind him. The first one, a woman, is short and round in a way that’s comforting, somehow. She has an elderly face, and thick, black lashes framing warm brown eyes. “Your Majesty,” she greets, curtsying delicately in his direction. “This must be the young $atitle’s betrothed.” “This is $name, yes.” Barrett holds his hand out to present you. “$name, this is Eshe. She will be in charge of your defense lessons. I thought they would be important.” “Your Highness,” Eshe greets with polite indifference. It’s hard to believe the woman could harm anyone, given her small frame. *[[“Hello,” you say, pleased to meet her.]] *[[“It’s a pleasure, Eshe,” you tell her with a grin.]] *[[“I hope we get along,” you say with cheer.]] *[[“Hello,” you say, your tone flat and cold.]]

You glance over at her and smile softly. “Hello.” The King has pride in his voice when he speaks about her, so surely she’s a good person. Eshe’s eyes widen slightly, as if taken aback by your soft expression. Something softens in her in return, and she nods firmly at you. “And this,” Barrett speaks, directing your attention to the other person present. “This is $mname.” The $mgender is much taller than Eshe, though you’re sure most are. $mHer posture is straight and upright, yet still manages to look natural. Long, intricate braids are tied low to the back of $mher head, and when $mhe sees your inspection, $mhe gives you a blinding smile that stands out against his warm, sunlit skin. “$mname will be your tutor. $mHe will guide you through the process of things—etiquette and such.” Barrett smiles fondly. “I thought it would be easier for you to have only one tutor. And $mname is the one best suited, I’m sure.” “You Highness,” $mname says, voice low and sweet in a way that makes you a bit lightheaded. The look on $mher face is kind, open. *[[“Hello,” you greet with a smile.]] *[[You head swims, your face flushed. “Hello.”]]$flirt_label *[[Your pulse skips, and you look away, brows furrowed.]]$flirt_label *[["Hello," you say again, just as detached as when you greeted Eshe.]]

You grin at Eshe, and she gives you a suspicious look. “It’s a pleasure,” you tell her. She frowns, and you read the expression on her face as worry that you’ll be trouble. Her mouth twitches at the corner. “And this,” Barrett speaks, directing your attention to the other person present. “This is $mname.” The $mgender is much taller than Eshe, though you’re sure most are. $mHer posture is straight and upright, yet still manages to look natural. Long, intricate braids are tied low to the back of $mher head, and when $mhe sees your inspection, $mhe gives you a blinding smile that stands out against his warm, sunlit skin. $mHer eyes are the color of honey—an interesting shade of brown. “$mname will be your tutor. $mHe will guide you through the process of things—etiquette and such.” Barrett smiles fondly. “I thought it would be easier for you to have only one tutor. And $mname is the one best suited, I’m sure.” “You Highness,” $mname says, voice low and sweet in a way that makes you a bit lightheaded. The look on $mher face is kind, open. *[[“Hello,” you greet with a smile.]] *[[You head swims, your face flushed. “Hello.”]]$flirt_label *[[Your pulse skips, and you look away, brows furrowed.]]$flirt_label *[["Hello," you say again, just as detached as when you greeted Eshe.]]

“I hope we get along,” you say with cheer, and slight wave of your hand. Eshe seems surprised at positiveness of your words, but also pleased. She nods at you. “And this,” Barrett speaks, directing your attention to the other person present. “This is $mname.” The $mgender is much taller than Eshe, though you’re sure most are. $mHer posture is straight and upright, yet still manages to look natural. Long, intricate braids are tied low to the back of $mher head, and when $mhe sees your inspection, $mhe gives you a blinding smile that stands out against his warm, sunlit skin. $mHer eyes are the color of honey—an interesting shade of brown. “$mname will be your tutor. $mHe will guide you through the process of things—etiquette and such.” Barrett smiles fondly. “I thought it would be easier for you to have only one tutor. And $mname is the one best suited, I’m sure.” “You Highness,” $mname says, voice low and sweet in a way that makes you a bit lightheaded. The look on $mher face is kind, open. *[[“Hello,” you greet with a smile.]] *[[You head swims, your face flushed. “Hello.”]]$flirt_label *[[Your pulse skips, and you look away, brows furrowed.]]$flirt_label *[["Hello," you say again, just as detached as when you greeted Eshe.]]

You smile at the other, and $mher face brightens even further at your positive reception. “Hello.” “Now,” Barrett says, searching the nearly empty courtyard. “Where is that $cson of mine?” “I sent a servant to fetch the $ctitle, as you requested,” Eshe claims, but her expression is pinched. “That was a few hours ago.” Barrett gives a strained laugh, taking your elbow to urge you forward. “Always a troublemaker, that one. Let’s head inside, shall we?” He doesn’t ask for your response, and instead, he simply guides you into the palace. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone23">><</button>></span>

You feel heat flood your face. Something in $mname’s smile has your head swimming and your palms sweaty. “Hello.” If $mname notices your strange behavior, $mhe doesn’t say anything. But you notices $mher eyelids drop ever so slightly, making $mhim look suspiciously pleased. “Now,” Barrett says, searching the nearly empty courtyard. “Where is that $cson of mine?” “I sent a servant to fetch the $ctitle, as you requested,” Eshe claims, but her expression is pinched. “That was a few hours ago.” Barrett gives a strained laugh, taking your elbow to urge you forward. “Always a troublemaker, that one. Let’s head inside, shall we?” He doesn’t ask for your response, and instead, he simply guides you into the palace. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone23">><</button>></span>

"Hello," you say again, your voice just as cold and detached as when you greeted Eshe. $mname gives you a long look, as if trying to decipher the meaning behind your tone. “Now,” Barrett says, searching the nearly empty courtyard. “Where is that $cson of mine?” “I sent a servant to fetch the $ctitle, as you requested,” Eshe claims, but her expression is pinched. “That was a few hours ago.” Barrett gives a strained laugh, taking your elbow to urge you forward. “Always a troublemaker, that one. Let’s head inside, shall we?” He doesn’t ask for your response, and instead, he simply guides you into the palace. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone23">><</button>></span>

It’s certainly different from Serona’s castle, there’s no question. The walls can’t exactly be described as extravagant. There’s something distinctly airy about them, instead. You only get a glance from where you stand, but there’s something freeing about how high and open your surrounds are. “Now, to find that $cson of mine,” Barrett says to himself. He turns to address you right after. “$cHe’s the last one I have to introduce you to, and then you can settle into your chambers.” He runs a hand over his face. “If $cname isn’t in $chis room, there are so many other places to—” Then, strolling languidly down the hall, comes a $cgender that Barrett lights up at the sight of. You can only assume that this is $cname. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone24">><</button>></span>

“You certainly took your time getting here,” Barrett chides, giving his younger child a stern look. “And what was so important?” “I’m here, aren’t I?” $cHe says, avoiding the question, with a drawn out voice. Though, if the yawn that stretches $chis mouth is any indicator, you assume that $che was asleep. “I suppose, yes.” Barrett sighs and gestures to you. “This is $name.” $cname gives you a lazy, searching stare, knee popped out and head tilted back, dark eyes focused. $cHe wears a carelessly buttoned shirt and pants, plain and almost unpresentable. If you weren’t being introduced like this, you’d have no idea $che was royalty. $cHe has messy, loosely curled black hair, that falls just below $cher ears. $cHe has similar intense facial features as $chis sibling, but $chis lidded eyes somehow soften him. $cHer full lips are completely neutral, if not indifferent. If $che notices you inspecting $chim, $che doesn’t say anything about it. $cHe instead shifts and closes $chis eyes, letting out an annoyed breath. “Pleasure.” *[[“Likewise,” you say, but with significantly more sincerity.]] *[[“It sure feels like you mean that,” you joke.]] *[[You clear your throat, flushed. “Right.”]]$flirt_label *[[“It’s all mine,” you sing with a smirk.]]$flirt_label *[[Your brow twitches and you frown.]]$flirt_label *[[“As you say,” you speak, finding the introductions tiring.]]

Your smile is soft. “Likewise,” you say. $cname gives you a more lingering look, but $cher expression gives absolutely nothing away. “Now that all the introductions are taken care of,” Barrett says, “I believe it’s time I show you to your room. You can focus on getting settled, and then come to dinner. How does that sound?” You certainly can’t find fault in it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone25">><</button>></span>

“It sure feels like you mean that,” you joke, your eyebrow raising. $cname’s lips quirk, and you see the surprising flash of dimples in $cher cheeks before they disappear. “I do,” $che says, voice tinged with amusement. “Now that all the introductions are taken care of,” Barrett says, “I believe it’s time I show you to your room. You can focus on getting settled, and then come to dinner. How does that sound?” You certainly can’t find fault in it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone25">><</button>></span>

You glance away for a moment, taken aback by $cname’s face. “Right.” Your face feels unbearable hot. And you notice $cname’s lips curl, too subtle to catch unless you were looking closely, and you are. It’s amusement. “Now that all the introductions are taken care of,” Barrett says, “I believe it’s time I show you to your room. You can focus on getting settled, and then come to dinner. How does that sound?” You certainly can’t find fault in it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone25">><</button>></span>

“The pleasure is all mine,” you tell $cname, because, truthfully, it probably is. $cname’s eyebrow quirks, but you see amusement in $cher eyes nonetheless. There isn’t much more. “Now that all the introductions are taken care of,” Barrett says, “I believe it’s time I show you to your room. You can focus on getting settled, and then come to dinner. How does that sound?” You certainly can’t find fault in it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone25">><</button>></span>

You frown at the other, somewhat pinned by $chis attenion—in a way that makes you upset. You don’t greet $cher, instead electing to narrow your gaze just to the side of $cher. But in the corner of your eye, you see something shift in $cname’s face. “Now that all the introductions are taken care of,” Barrett says, “I believe it’s time I show you to your room. You can focus on getting settled, and then come to dinner. How does that sound?” You certainly can’t find fault in it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone25">><</button>></span>

Barrett personally leads you to your chambers, which is quite the walk from where you entered the palace. All three of your acquaintances—Eshe, $mname, and $cname scattered the moment they were able. They were likely busy. (But you don’t know about $cname.) The room is much larger than the one back home. The bed is bigger, and there’s a balcony there that nearly takes your breath away. The windows make it look more open, which is something you can’t help but appreciate. “I hope it’s to your tastes,” Barrett says from the doorway, unwilling to intrude on a shape that’s now officially your own. “I’ll see you at dinner.” And then, he’s gone. Alone in a bedroom, again. *[[You can’t help but feel some hope. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad?]] *[[You have too many conflicting emotions. You aren’t sure how to feel.]] *[[You huff silently to yourself. You doubt you’ll find much happiness here.]] *[[You don't know. You just don't know anymore.]]

<<set $relationships to "set">><<notify 3s>>Relationships are unlocked.<</notify>> But only time will tell. <<set $arelation to 50>> <<set $rrelation to 50>> <<set $mrelation to 50>> <<set $crelation to 50>> <span class="next"><<button "Chapter Two" "chap2title">><</button>></span>

<<set $relationships to "set">> <<notify 3s>>Relationships are unlocked.<</notify>> Maybe you will soon. <<set $arelation to 50>> <<set $rrelation to 50>> <<set $mrelation to 50>> <<set $crelation to 50>> <span class="next"><<button "Chapter Two" "chap2title">><</button>></span>

That's all for now! This story is in early development and will be updated as soon as the next chapter is ready. If you'd like to know more and have questions of any sort, check the tumblr development blog. Thank you for playing!

<<set $stoic to Math.clamp($stoic + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $charming to Math.clamp($charming - 5, 0, 100)>> You itch to shake her hands from your shoulders. Your fingers tighten into fists and you stare straight ahead into the mirror, and watch as Dalia gives you an intrigued look, like she’s watching an animal on the brink of death take their final breath. “I understand,” you say, your tone cold and sharp. “Good,” Dalia says, brushing a finger against your hair like she wants you to squirm away. “I’m sure the nobles will adore you, dove, even if your tone makes them feel like ice.” Her expression turns flat. “They are a delicate bunch. You must treat them gently. They won’t respond well to such chilling treatment.” “I understand,” you say again, in the same way. Dalia says nothing to it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapone3">><</button>></span>

Your fingers wrap around the handle of the dagger slowly, almost like a threat. Your movements are careful, like Dalia is a frightened animal about to flee. But all you do is adjust it, your eyes intent on her. The silence is charged, and though Dalia doesn’t say anything, even she looks a bit unsettled. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone4">><</button>></span>

“Good,” you say beneath your breath. Abrin is of no concern to you—just as you have never been of any concern to him. He was a naive child—one that couldn’t understand your situation even if he tried. Dalia quirks an eyebrow at your response, but moves on from the topic in a flash. Dalia gestures with a showy motion to the doors, which remain shut. “You will stand when father makes a speech, and then eat lightly when he is done. Exchange pleasantries with your family when the party is over.” She turns to you, her skirt slapping against your leg when she moves. “In this time, all of your belongings will have been packed into travel bags and secured onto the Aslerea royal family’s carriage, where you will ride from the palace to the ship waiting for you at the docks. You will board the ship, and finally sail to Aslerea, where you will marry their heir whenever the King decides. It’s all quite simple, isn’t it?” *[[“…Why must I do this?” You hear your voice crack. “Is this all I’m worth to you?”]] *[[“Quite simple? How would you know? You aren’t the one that’s about to get married to a stranger,” you spit at her.]] *[[“The two of us must have very different ideas of simple, Dalia.” You smile sharply.]] *[[“Yes…,” you say, trying to look past the negative.]] *[[You don’t say a word—it will do no good.]] *[[“It isn’t simple,” you tell her plainly, but disgust curls your lip.]]

<<set $Daliaslapped to "yes">> Dalia’s words make you want to laugh, but you can’t find the sound anywhere in your chest. You reach and claw for it, but your throat is too dry, and your chest too empty. “It isn’t simple,” you tell her like it is, staring at your sister with a dark look on your face. “You don’t understand a word of you’re talking about.” Dalia’s eyebrows raise in response, and her mouth forms a thin line as she stares at you. And you know exactly what will happen. She’s never hit you before, but when she does it, it feels familiar. It’s cool, and won’t leave a mark, but her eyes are blazing enough to feel burning. “Never tell me what I do or don’t understand. If I say it will be simple, it will be. If I say the sky is bloody and red, then it is. If I say the fields will grow in winter, then they will.” Dalia digs her nails into your chin, holding your face in her hand. “And I say that this Rebellion will fall with this alliance. I say that you will do what you’re told and you will. Do //you// understand, $name?” You understand. A sinister feeling settles in the back of your head. You’ve never thought with such clarity. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone5">><</button>></span>

Your mind swims with such intense anger that it clouds your mind. You’re overwhelmed by it, hanging by something too weak to hold your weight. You haven’t felt such an intense feeling in a long time. It feels like falling into freezing water. Dalia’s mouth stays shut tight until //she// looks away, running a hand over her hair. “Your silence is deafening, dove. But a lesson had to be learned, here. I hope you will understand.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone8">><</button>></span>

Your ears feel oddly hot, and you slip your hand away from the $rgender, eyebrows furrowed softly. “We should board the ship.” “That we should,” $rhe says, but $rhis smile is teasing. “$rname!” $aname calls from where $ahe stands, leaning over the edge of the ship. “We have to set sail. Get up here, now.” $aHe stares sternly, then promptly disappears, walking away from the railing. “Wouldn’t want to keep $aname waiting, would we?” $rname rolls $rher eyes playfully, then winks at you. Your mouth twitches downward, but this only makes $rhim look more pleased. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone12">><</button>></span>

You turn away from $aname’s gaze, finding it strangely overwhelming to stare at too long. Something spikes in your blood. “Which I’m perfectly capable of doing,” you say, your tone a tad too snippy. “I never said you weren’t capable,” $aname says, too loudly to be neutral. “Then why do you look surprised?” you ask, glaring and suddenly able to look at $ahim. “I don’t look surprised!” $aname runs a frustrated hand over $aher hair. “I’m not surprised. I don’t care that you can dress yourself.” $aHe turns to walk away, nearly knocking right into the two servants behind $ahim, who $ahe clearly forgot was present. “Oh. You’re dismissed.” As they go, $aname begins to walk away. “My father wants to speak to you.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone15">><</button>></span>

You turn your head away. The night had been riddled with nightmares. But you refuse to say it, so you keep your tone carefully neutral, “It doesn’t matter.” “I would think so,” Barrett says with a touch of concern. “You may not have much time to rest after we reach the palace.” He sets his teacup aside on a small oval table and waves a hand in the air. “$rname! How much longer until we make port?” “Not much longer now, Your Majesty!” $rname slides down the short chunk of stairs leading to the helm, and though $rhe does it with style it’s wholly unnecessary. “A few hours, at most.” “A few hours?” You blink. “We left Serona last night? I thought Aslerea was very far. To be so close now should be—” “—Impossible?” $rname interrupts. “On any ship but //Tidebreaker,// it would be!” $rHe gestures with $rher hand, with clear pride of $rher ship. “No, she is special. She can get to any place, no matter how far, within a day.” “What? How?” you ask, “What? How?” you ask, <<cycle "$feelings" autoselect>> <<option "confused.">> <<option "curious.">> <<option "amazed.">> <<option "skeptical.">> <</cycle>> “Well, it became possible when—” $rHe starts. “No, no, $rname. Please, don’t bore $them.” Barrett leans closer to you. “$rHe changes the story every time, the liar.” “You wound me, Your Majesty!” $rname runs a hand through $rher dark brown hair, carting $rher fingers all the way through to the ends that just brush $rher shoulders. “I simply tell you a new part of the story each time.” “Oh, I’m sure the time you fought a man blindfolded with your arms tied behind your back really adds onto the time you were shipwrecked on an island, full of vicious humanoid spider creatures,” Barrett snips, but the tone of his voice still remains fond. “Well, it could. What if the man was the one that shipwrecked me, hm?!” $rname huffs. “Oh, I thought he fell overboard into a circle of hungry sharks. Did he come back to life and shipwreck you for revenge?” “It very well could have happened, Your Majesty,” $rname claims. “Father,” $aname cuts in, “what did you need from the $title?” “Oh!” Barrett stands from his seat, bracing a hand on the arm rest. “Walk with me, $name.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone16">><</button>></span>

You think back to your father, who never once seemed too concerned with his so called duties. “The one King I know didn’t feel that way,” you say bitterly, as if you’re by yourself. “Well, some don’t,” Barrett says, giving you a curious look but not asking you a thing. “Some Kings find that their time is better spent on more lavish things. I don’t feel the same.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, but it isn’t heavy, or painful. It’s warm. “I will leave a good kingdom to you and my $ason.” Barrett squeezes your shoulder and turns. “Come, sit with me.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone17">><</button>></span>

You touch the fabric of the cloak with the tips of your fingers, the texture soft and comfortable in a way you don’t understand. “I’ll wear it, if you tell me why I must,” you tell him simply. Barrett frowns at you. “I will, of course. But not here—the palace is much safer for that discussion.” He fixes the hood on your head. “Let us get to the palace as fast as possible, alright?” “Alright,” you echo. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone19">><</button>></span>

You stare at Eshe, shift your gaze away, and then shift it back. “Hello,” you say, your tone flat and cold. The woman seems puzzled by your greeting, but doesn’t acknowledge it at all. “And this,” Barrett speaks, directing your attention to the other person present. “This is $mname.” The $mgender is much taller than Eshe, though you’re sure most are. $mHer posture is straight and upright, yet still manages to look natural. Long, intricate braids are tied low to the back of $mher head, and when $mhe sees your inspection, $mhe gives you a blinding smile that stands out against his warm, sunlit skin. $mHer eyes are the color of honey—an interesting shade of brown. “$mname will be your tutor. $mHe will guide you through the process of things—etiquette and such.” Barrett smiles fondly. “I thought it would be easier for you to have only one tutor. And $mname is the one best suited, I’m sure.” “You Highness,” $mname says, voice low and sweet in a way that makes you a bit lightheaded. The look on $mher face is kind, open. *[[“Hello,” you greet with a smile.]] *[[You head swims, your face flushed. “Hello.”]]$flirt_label *[[Your pulse skips, and you look away, brows furrowed.]]$flirt_label *[["Hello," you say again, just as detached as when you greeted Eshe.]]

Your pulse skips at the sight of the warmth on $mname’s face, leaving you confused enough to turn away. Your brows furrow, and you refuse to meet $mher eye. $mname gives you an alarmed look that shifts into something else—something curious and probing. “Now,” Barrett says, searching the nearly empty courtyard. “Where is that $cson of mine?” “I sent a servant to fetch the $ctitle, as you requested,” Eshe claims, but her expression is pinched. “That was a few hours ago.” Barrett gives a strained laugh, taking your elbow to urge you forward. “Always a troublemaker, that one. Let’s head inside, shall we?” He doesn’t ask for your response, and instead, he simply guides you into the palace. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone23">><</button>></span>

You turn your gaze away from $cname. “As you say.” You can’t recall the last time you talked to so many people in such a short time. It leaves you tired. “Now that all the introductions are taken care of,” Barrett says, “I believe it’s time I show you to your room. You can focus on getting settled, and then come to dinner. How does that sound?” You certainly can’t find fault in it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone25">><</button>></span>

<<notify 3s>>Astrite wonders if you'll follow through on your promise.<</notify>> <<set $stoic to Math.clamp($stoic + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $charming to Math.clamp($charming - 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $cruel to Math.clamp($cruel + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $kind to Math.clamp($kind - 5, 0, 100)>> You look him straight in the eye, feeling sick from the feeling of his skin on your own. “I’ll hurt you,” you tell him, your voice scratching your throat. Something dark in the back of your mind begs you to follow through. You want to do more than hurt him. Astrite’s grip turns into a caress. But not for long. He runs a finger along your cheek, then pulls back to strike you in the same place. The impact is so great that you’re knocked to the ground, a dull pain throbbing in your head. Astrite bends down to stare at your form. He isn’t upset, but instead proving a point. “You’ll hurt me? Oh, $name. Do you even know how?” He reaches out for your face again, but something in your eyes must stop him. “I look forward to it, whenever that day comes. I want to see you try. I want to see you try and fail.” His smile is both fond and cruel. “It’s a true shame that you’re leaving today. I—” The door opens with a bang, slamming against the wall. The hand holding it there is none other than your father, who gives you a cold look from where you lay on the ground. “Astrite, please let $them up,” Dalia asks of him, a somewhat frustrated expression on her pretty face—which is not there often. “What if $they are bruised? You certainly didn’t have to harm $their face, if you were scolding $them.” “Forgive me, Your Highness. I was carried away.” Astrite raises his hands and gives you an amused look from above. “I suppose a veil is in order, then.” “And what of when the veil is taken off, then? Hm? Our dear allies would be shocked—they would say we do not care for our own.” Dalia moves to you and caresses your face, without a word to address you. A cool feeling slides over your cheek, and as she pulls away you know that her gift is healing your forming bruise, something that does not happen often. “I will excuse your lack of ability to heal my dear $sibling.” She meets eyes with Astrite. “Since your expertise lies elsewhere.” “Dalia,” the King calls from where he still stands. “Oh, yes. Of course, you’re right, father.” Dalia takes your arm and helps you to your feet. “It’s time to prepare you.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chap2">><</button>></span>

<<set $chapter to "chapter two">><<if visited() is 1>><<if settings.notifications>><</if>><</if>>\ <div class="begin">Y</div>ou are somewhere new. <div class="center"> <<message 'View Chapter Two Content Warnings.'>>\ physical abuse, emotional abuse, arranged marriage, violence, cursing, <</message>> </div> <span class="next"><<button "Chapter Two" "chapt2">><</button>></span>

<<set $relationships to "set">><<notify 3s>>Relationships are unlocked.<</notify>> But maybe you will soon. <<set $arelation to 50>> <<set $rrelation to 50>> <<set $mrelation to 50>> <<set $crelation to 50>> <span class="next"><<button "Chapter Two" "chap2title">><</button>></span>

<div class="titlecardd">Chapter Two,</div> <div class="titlecardd2">Find solace,</div> You leave for dinner with the assistance of a maid that doesn’t tell you her name. She takes you through the winding halls, built like a maze. You watch her braid sway behind her, long and frizzy. Even as you take note of the path, everything looks too similar to be of note. You lose track of the time, but the maid doesn’t make a sound when she stops, turns, and disappears, leaving no room for communication even if you wanted to partake. You can only assume that the door ahead is where you are meant to be. As you step forward, there’s a strange clicking noise and the doors slide open gently, tall and towering and likely heavy. It must be a sort of magic, but you’re unsure of what kind it could be. You enter. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo1">><</button>></span>

<<fadein 5s>><div class="begin3">Eight Years Later.</div><</fadein>> “Again,” Astrite instructs, staring down at you. “It will be perfect.” You stand up, shaky and disoriented. The back of your head throbs and your <<cycle "$outfit" autoselect>> <<option "pants">> <<option "dress">> <</cycle>> sticks to your knees, wet and warm with blood. “You must have patience, Astrite,” Dalia says. “We are to present $name to father within the hour. You must be gentle.” “Gentle is not the way to teach a child, Dalia.” Astrite circles you, nudging your limbs a certain way with the pointer stick meant for teaching students—pointing to things on a chalkboard. “You would never get anything done if I was not here.” “$They <<are>> not a child anymore. And watch your words, Astrite,” Dalia warns, still lounging along a sofa behind you. “I may be tempted to teach //you// a lesson, instead.” "You are right." Astrite says, and directs his attention solely to you, as he so often does. “Again, Your Highness.” *[[You cry openly at the pain, twisting and bowing low to the ground.]] *[[You bow quick and sharp, anger deep in your gut.]] *[[You bow as Astrite demands, keeping your eyes coldly focused on him.]] *[[You simply do as asked, numb and tired.]]

Your tears are salty to the taste as pain sparks in your legs. You bend down, bowing low as you were told. You feel unbalanced. “Keep your back straight,” Astrite commands, pressing the point of the pointer he holds to the base of your spine to adjust you. “Say it.” “P-Please accept my condolences, Your Majesty,” you say, your voice cracking and broken. “$They <<are>> learning fast, Astrite,” Dalia praises. “Just last week $they didn’t look nearly as graceful as now.” Astrite lets the pointer clatter to the ground and takes you by the shoulder, straightening you with a firm hand. “Dalia is right. You have—” He wipes a tear from your face with his thumb and stares at it. And for a brief, frightening moment, you think he’ll taste it. But all he does is wipe it on his sleeve. “You have improved greatly. Now, we get you a change of clothes, and present you to the King.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro24">><</button>></span>

You fingers curl and you bow once, sharp and too quick to be proper. The pain in your knees sparks and flames in response. Astrite throws the pointer to the ground, takes the end of your $haircolor, $hairstyle hair, and //pulls,// leaning over you with a curled lip. You shout in pain, clawing at his hand as Dalia sighs loudly behind you. “Let me go, now!” you demand. “I don’t believe you’re in any position to make commands, $title.” Astrite gives you a look full of disgust and somehow, intrigue. “I wouldn’t forget who has the power here. And as much as your fire amuses me, I would suggest you dwindle it for the night. My patience only lasts for so long.” “That’s enough, Astrite,” Dalia says easily. And though the man lingers far too close for far too long, he eventually releases you. “It’s time we get $them a change of clothes. Then, we go to the King.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro24">><</button>></span>

You bow slowly and carefully, despite the pain in your knees begging you to simply do it and be done. No—you do it perfectly, your eyes trained on Astrite in a way that promises retribution. Your eyes hold ice, hard and determined. “Well done,” Dalia praises from behind you, but Astrite frowns. “As she says.” He leans closer to you, using the pointer in hand to tilt your chin up. “But you must keep your gaze to the floor, Your Highness. The King is a man that values custom. Do not look him in the eye unless he tells you to do so.” He tells you this, but as he does so, he keeps his gaze trained on your own, as if mesmerized by something he finds there. “That’s enough.” Dalia’s voice carries through the room, hard and leaving no room for debate. “We have no time for this, Astrite. We must get $name a fresh change of clothes. And then, we will go to the King.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro24">><</button>></span>

You find no need to argue, or fight, or cry. You simply bow again, pushing through the pain that sparks in you. And you do it perfectly, that you know. “Please, accept my condolences, Your Majesty.” “Well done,” Dalia praises from behind you, but Astrite frowns. “Again,” he orders, watching you for some sort of emotion. “Do it again.” You do as he asks, but he is disappointed. Astrite watches you in a way that sparks something sick in your stomach, but you still show nothing. His fingers touch your face, making eye contact with you as he digs deep for something you won’t show him. “Again.” Astrite stares. “That’s enough.” Dalia’s voice carries through the room, hard and leaving no room for debate. “We have no time for this, Astrite. We must get $name a fresh change of clothes. And then, we will go to the King.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro24">><</button>></span>

The hallway echoes with emptiness your birthday always brings. You trail behind Dalia, bandages wrapped tightly around your knees to cease the flow of blood. The pain is still there every time you move, but you walk through it well enough. You don’t see your father often. It was only through Dalia’s insistence that he would meet with you today, though you don’t know for what reason. She claimed it was for you to offer your condolences for your mother, but you’ve had eighteen birthdays as of today, and never once had you been called to do so. It left you nervous. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro25">><</button>></span>

The throne room is an elaborate space, one which you’ve never been in before. There is a long, black carpet that leads up to a golden, sharp throne, where King Adder sits. He doesn’t acknowledge you. He sips from a long, porcelain glass which you can’t see into. “Father,” Dalia speaks, pinching the fabric of her dress in her fingers when she bows. “Do accept my condolences for the loss of your wife.” You hear Adder sigh as his gaze flicks toward you. “Why do you bring this child here? I grow weary of your attempts to integrate $them into my life. Take $them away, Dalia.” “You //agreed// to see $them, don’t you recall?” Dalia guides you forward with a hand on your arm. “Exchange a few words, father—that is all I ask.” For a moment, your father looks inclined to disagree, but then he waves his hand, calling you silently forward. “As we practiced,” Dalia tells you as she moves from your path. *[[Your hands shake as you bow, fear racking your body.]] *[[Anger grips your mind, and your bow is tinged in it.]] *[[You bow, perfect and composed. But you seethe inside.]] *[[You paste a smile on your face, trying to show your sincerity.]] *[[You bow, as you were told. But all you want is for it all to be over with.]]

With $name gone, Dalia is silent in front of her father, her gaze trained pointedly on the ground. “Dalia,” Adder calls, and she makes a soft noise of acknowledgment. “You were my first child. You //are// my first child. You will take the throne one day. And I want you to remember this: the only reason I tolerate your insolence is because of this fact.” Dalia’s head tilts up to meet his eye, void of any emotion at all. “Your mother thought you strange. Do you know this?” “Yes, father,” Dalia confirms. “Each time she tried to connect with you, she found herself uneasy. Yes, you acted like a regular child, but she knew there was something wrong with you deep down.” Adder sighs softly. “And yet, she still loved you with all her heart. I had never met a kinder woman.” “I know, father. I am grateful to have known her,” Dalia says. Adder jolts out of some sort of revere for Elle, clearing his throat and eyeing the mess left on the floor from the glass. “Dalia. About that child.” “Yes, father?” Dalia’s eyebrow twitches. “I must write to our neighbors. It is time to do what I have needed to do for a long time now.” Adder hums slightly. “$They <<are>> of age now.” “Yes, father,” Dalia confirms. “Yes. Fetch me Abrin, I have heard he isn’t feeling well.” The King leans back in his throne. Dalia leaves. <span class="next"><<button "Chapter One" "chap1title">><</button>></span>

You shift into the greeting as easy as you breathe, as it is ingrained from weeks of practice. But your body still shakes with every movement, wound tight under the King’s emotionless gaze. He is dressed in mourning clothes, and of the few times you’ve seen him, he has never worn anything else. “Please accept my condolences, Your Majesty,” you get out, your voice cracking and weak as you speak to him. Silence flows through the space. Until Adder throws his glass at you, which shatters at your feet and tears a fearful shriek from your throat. “Father!” Dalia moves closer, “What are you—!” “Accept your condolences?” Adder gives a manic laugh. “You would ask me of this? When it was //you?// When it was //you// that killed Elle in the first place?!” He stands from the throne, running his hands over his head as his chest heaves. “Get $them out of my sight! Take $them away, Dalia, now! I don’t care what excuses you make, I never want to see $them again.” “Astrite!” Dalia shouts, her composure lost in the chaos. “Take $name away.” The doors open, and you are ushered from the room by Astrite, your heart pounding in your chest. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro26">><</button>></span>

You shake, not from fear, but from anger. Why should you offer your condolences to a man who, for eighteen years today, couldn’t let go of his grief? You bow to him as your sister demands, but your mouth is shut tight. At your silence, Dalia steps forward. “$They ask<<s>> that you accept $their condolences, father.” She bows her head slightly, but you gather she is not happy with your soft rebellion. And at first, the King does not respond. Then, he throws the glass he holds at you, which shatters at Dalia’s feet. Though she moves back from it, she makes no sound. “Take $them away, Dalia. Now!” He shakes his head at her, as if disappointed. “I don’t want to see $them again. I don’t want to hear about $them again! Accept $their condolences?” Adder gives a manic laugh. “You would ask me of this? When it was //$them?// When it was //$them// that killed Elle in the first place?!” He stands from the throne, running his hands over his head as his chest heaves. “Get $them out of my sight! Take $them away, Dalia, now! I don’t care what excuses you make, I never want to see $them again.” “Astrite!” Dalia shouts, her composure lost in the chaos. “Take $name away.” The doors open, and you are ushered from the room by Astrite, your heart thudding in your chest. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro26">><</button>></span>

You bow, straight and perfect and without mistake. Your face is a mask of calm that doesn’t crack under your father’s attention. “Please, accept my condolences, Your Majesty,” you speak, your voice steady even as hatred rises in your gut. There is silence in response as Adder drinks. When he is done, he throws his glass at your feet, making it shatter. But you cannot bring yourself to flinch. “Father!” Dalia moves closer, “What are you—!” “How dare you look at me with those eyes?!” Adder gives a manic laugh. “You would ask me of this? When it was //you?// When it was //you// that killed Elle in the first place?!” He stands from the throne, running his hands over his head as his chest heaves. “Get $them out of my sight! Get this //statue// out of my sight. Take $them away, Dalia, now! I don’t care what excuses you make, I never want to see $them again.” “Astrite!” Dalia shouts, her composure lost in the chaos. “Take $name away.” The doors open, and you are ushered from the room by Astrite, your heart quiet in your chest. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro26">><</button>></span>

<<notify 3s>>Adder is unsettled by your smile. <</notify>> Your hands shake a bit, but you perform the bow as practiced and smile at your father, soft and hopeful even though you have no reason to be. “Please, accept my condolences, Your Majesty,” you request sincerely. Immediately, Adder throws his glass onto the ground in front of you, making you jump back with a shriek. “Father!” Dalia moves closer, “What are you—!” Adder points at you as if he’s seen a ghost. “Take $them away.” “Father—!” Dalia tries again, but Adder screams like a madman and makes her freeze in her tracks. “Take—” Adder’s eyes are wide as he stares at you. “Take $them away. I do not want to see—” He shudders. “I do not want to see that. You!” he calls out to you, “Never smile in front of me again. Do you hear me?! Take $them away, Dalia! Now!” “Astrite!” Dalia shouts, her composure lost in the chaos. “Take $name away.” The doors open, and you are ushered from the room by Astrite, your heart pounding in your chest. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro26">><</button>></span>

You do as rehearsed. It is perfect, as Dalia and Astrite wanted, but you only feel numb inside. You feel so tired. You just want to be done. “Please, accept my condolences, Your Majesty,” you say, eyes on the floor.” Silence follows for so long you start to believe he will say nothing. But then, he throws his glass and it shatters on the ground in front of you. You stay still. “Father!” Dalia moves closer, “What are you—!” “I want to see no more of this emotionless child! Take $them away!” Adder gestures wildly. “Accept your condolences?” Adder gives a manic laugh. “You would ask me of this? When it was //you?// When it was //you// that killed Elle in the first place?!” He stands from the throne, running his hands over his head as his chest heaves. “Get $them out of my sight! Get this //statue// out of my sight. Take $them away, Dalia, now! I don’t care what excuses you make, I never want to see $them again.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "pro26">><</button>></span>

You flinch hard and attempt to pull away, a small panic grabbing hold of you. At your resistance, Barrett releases you and steps back. “Forgive me, my dear. It seems I was a bit too enthusiastic,” Barrett apologizes. “I promise not to startle you like that again.” “I see,” you say a bit breathless. Barrett gives you a long, curious look and then perks right back up. “I’m sure you’re tired. How about I show you to your room?” “Please,” you say. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chapeone13">><</button>></span>

Barrett, $aname, $rname, $cname, and $mname sit at a long table in a large, yet somehow homey, dining room. They all look toward you when you enter. While $rname and $mname look content to be there, $aname looks //very// unhappy. And $cname? You can’t really tell how $che feels. “Ah, $name!” Barrett calls out to you, arms spread wide. “Have a seat, please. Anywhere you would like!” Though his tone is pleasant, you notice the signs of exhaustion in his face, that you’re beginning to believe is always there. Barrett sits at the head of the table, while everyone else is spread out in the chairs at the sides. There is space between them, and it may be because the table is so long. <<if $aname is "Aleksandar">> *[[You sit next to Aleksandar.]]<<else>>*[[You sit next to Aleksandra.->You sit next to Aleksandar.]]<</if>> <<if $rname is "Rhys">>*[[You sit next to Rhys.]]<<else>>*[[You sit next to Rhea.->You sit next to Rhys.]]<</if>> <<if $cname is "Calix">>*[[You sit next to Calix.]]<<else>>*[[You sit next to Calixta.->You sit next to Calix.]]<</if>> <<if $mname is "Mestrn">>*[[You sit next to Mestrn.]]<<else>>*[[You sit next to Mestra.->You sit next to Mestrn.]]<</if>>

<<set $satnextto to "Aleks">><<set $arelation to Math.clamp($arelation+ 5, 0, 100)>>You take the seat despite the look that $ahe sends you, and you know right then that $ahe is not happy you chose to sit there. “I do hope you have an appetite,” Barrett says, taking his cup into his hand. “Tonight’s dinner is meant to be a special occasion—to welcome you.” He drinks from his glass, then sits it back onto the table. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I asked the chef to surprise us.” “You dislike surprises,” $aname chimes in a deadpan voice. “Your taste in food is linear.” “Perhaps it’s time to try something unfamiliar, $aname,” Barrett replies. “Indulge me. I know change is something you abhor.” He gives his $ason a look that suggests he’s talking about something other than the food. $aname takes a deep drink from $aher glass and doesn’t reply. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo2">><</button>></span>

<<set $satnextto to "Cali">><<set $crelation to Math.clamp($crelation+ 5, 0, 100)>>$cname doesn’t glance at you when you sit, as $che’s too busy nursing $cher drink, leaning back in $cher seat with a bored expression. “Oh, $cson. You could at least pretend you’re happy to be here,” Barrett chastises from where he sits, eyebrows raised almost playfully. “I make it a habit to be honest when it counts, father,” $cname says without looking. “I thought honesty was a valuable trait to you.” “It is,” Barrett replies, “but I would rather you at least pretend to enjoy spending time with me, at least when we have guests!” He rumbles a quiet laugh. $cname’s eyes graze over you, and $che takes a sip from $cher cup again. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo2">><</button>></span>

<<set $satnextto to "Mest">><<set $mrelation to Math.clamp($mrelation+ 5, 0, 100)>>$mname’s lips curl into a soft smile as you sit. “I see you haven’t touched your drink?” Barrett notes as he spies $mname’s full cup. “Is wine not to your liking? I’ll have to know your tastes if you’re to dine with us in the future.” “Oh, it isn’t that, Your Majesty,” $mname says, scooting forward to take the glass in hand. “I suppose I’m simply accustomed to more unrefined drinks.” $rname leans forward, as if $mname had just called $rhim out by name. “You’re talking about the local taverns, aren’t you? Best damn liquor around, I’ll say!” $rHe grins sharply. “I wouldn’t think a noble like yourself prefer that.” $mname gives $rname a blank stare, taking a sip of the wine. “I can’t see what rank has to do with it.” “A fancy pants like yourself seems like the type to enjoy something expensive, that’s all!” $rname raises $rher eyebrows. “Maybe your pants aren’t fancy enough?” “Just //what// are you—” $mname’s tone raises just a tad, until Barrett clears his throat. “Children, please,” he says, fondly exasperated, and there is nothing more spoken about it. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo2">><</button>></span>

<<set $satnextto to "Rh">><<set $rrelation to Math.clamp($rrelation+ 5, 0, 100)>>$rHe gives you a twinkling grin as you sit, making $rher delight clear. “Forgive me, $rname,” Barrett says as his gaze directs toward the two of you, “I know you would rather be elsewhere.” “And //pay// for a meal elsewhere? Your Majesty, you amuse me.” $rname’s grin is playful. “You are generously providing me with a dinner I could not get anywhere else, and I don’t have to spend a coin on it.” “As if you would actually pay for a meal.” $aname stares at $rname, unimpressed. “All of us present know of your sticky fingers.” “Nonsense, $aname!” Barrett laughs heartily. “$rname is an upstanding citizen.” “Thank you, Your Majesty,” $rname sings with a smug grin in $aname’s direction. “I was most insulted.” $aname takes a long drink from $aher cup and doesn’t reply. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo2">><</button>></span>

Barrett calls for the first course to be brought out and a short, stumpy man brings out a dish for everyone. As he places the one meant for the King, he bows his head. “I thought I would try something new,” he explains, and disappears from the room. The dish? It’s a tiny, abused-looking chicken with cooked vegetables surrounding it. You can see its ribs through the sparse meat on its body, and it looks so pitiful you’re inclined to feel sorry for it. *[[At least try to eat it—out of pity for its sacrifice. “Poor bird.”]] *[[You’ll wait for the next course. Your nose wrinkles with disgust. “It’s more bone than meat!”]] *[[“I hope its final moments were of its wings carrying its tiny little body through the air,” you say, turning it over with your fork.]] *[[Push the plate away. You certainly won’t starve without it.]]

You take a fork and pull some of the meat free, lips bent in a frown. “Poor bird.” “You’re too right,” $mname comments, sliding $mher plate away. “There is no real nutrition to be had from this. The sacrifice was needless.” “It’s just a bird,” $rname says flippantly, gesturing to the bird with a loose wave. “And a fucking skinny one at that!” “$rname!” $mname leans back in $mher seat, straightening $mher posture. “What?” $rname stares at the other, befuddled. “Language.” $mname points $mher fork at $rname in what could be a threatening manner. “$rname is right,” Barrett says, cutting through the interaction. “I wanted a surprise, not—this.” He clears his throat. “We may as well taste it.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo3">><</button>></span>

You give it a long, disgusted look. “It’s more bone than meat!” “It’s good for you,” $aname comments sternly in response, looking at you as $rhe stabs the bird in the middle and lifts it to $rher mouth to bite into, bones and all. “I’ve had the suspicion for a while, but now I //know// you aren’t human,” $rname breathes in disbelief, elbows propped on the table. “Now, that’s just rude,” $mname jumps to the $agender’s defense. “I’m sure you also have strange eating habits.” “Of course! But //$ahe// clearly doesn’t eat for pleasure!” $rname gestures at $aname. “Those who eat for pleasure //clearly// have an unbalanced diet,” $aname retorts, face deadpan. “What!” $rname looks on the verge of passing out. “Now, now,” Barrett interjects. “Let’s hope the next course will be more satisfactory.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo3">><</button>></span>

“I hope its final moments were of its wings carrying its tiny little body through the air,” you say, turning it over with your fork and examining the indent left behind in the light liquid it sat in. “The birds are purchased from a nearby merchant,” $cname interjects out of nowhere. “They live in cages.” You see that $che hasn’t touched $cher plate at all. “Their wings were likely clipped.” “How awful,” $mname mourns, pushing $mher plate away. “To live your life in a cage.” “Try not to get too emotional. They’re so small and slow in the wild—predators catch them like sport. Who’s to say whether living in a cage or by the Goddess’ will is better?” $cname’s eyebrows raise as $che drinks from $cher cup. $mname doesn’t seem to know how to respond. “Let’s hope that the next meal will be more satisfactory,” Barrett says. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo3">><</button>></span>

You may be hungry, but holding off until the next course certainly won’t starve you. You doubt the bird would do much to help your squeezing stomach at all. “The $title certainly has the right idea,” $rname praises as $rhe follows your lead, eyeing $aname as $ahe bites into the small bird without pity. “At least we will have one sound ruler in the future.” $cname’s shoulder shake a bit, and $che seems to be holding off laughter. $aname eyes $rname with venom. “At least we will be rid of one worthless pirate in the future,” $aname says, “//I// certainly won’t be tolerating your presence any longer than I have to.” //Pirate?// you can’t help but wonder. “Why! Your Majesty!” $rname pouts in Barrett’s direction. “Do you hear your $ason? $aHe is threatening me! I’m very scared.” “Oh, please. You don’t have a fearful bone in your body, $rname,” $aname huffs gruffly. “You’re all shamelessness and audacity. There’s no room for anything else.” “I’m flattered you think so,” $rname singsongs, earning $rher a scowl from $aname in response. “May we please have a nice, civil dinner for a change? Even if the food is less than satisfactory?” Barrett sighs fondly. “Mind your manners.” <span class="next"><<button "Next" "chaptwo3">><</button>></span>

The next course is much better—at least in visual. It’s a soup, thick and rich looking. A flower is placed in the middle. It at least //looks// appetizing. The smell is also promising. <<if $satnextto is "Aleks">><<if $aname is "Aleksandar">> *[[You sip from your cup, cheeks warming at how attractive his side profile is in the candlelight.->aleks]]$flirt_label<<else>>*[[You sip from your cup, cheeks warming at how attractive her side profile is in the candlelight.->aleks]]$flirt_label <</if>><</if>>