Chapter One: The Very Beginning.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and crushed clover, a sharp contrast to the suffocating silence that had fallen over the four brothers. In the years since their father, King Averill, had passed, this patch of land had become their designated meeting place, a neutral ground where the weight of their crowns could be shed. Tonight offered no neutrality. Instead of uniting them in grief, the old king's death drove the brothers further apart, as each harbored his own ambitions. With his back to the pale moon, the eldest, Nicholas, stood rigid, his claim to the throne rooted in shallow, harsh tradition. 

He announced with a low rumble," The choice is clear. Right?" came the harsh retort from Caleb, the second oldest. His face was a mask of determination: his clothes were covered by a dusty old cloak. His face was masked in shadow. "The right of a coin purse, perhaps. You bought the loyalty of the nobles across the land with a promise of 

a gold coin! "He stepped forward,"Our father's kingdom was built on the backs of commoners." Next to him, the second youngest, Maxon, with Bruce standing beside him, broke the tension. He stood apart from the others, his face illuminated by torchlight, and said, "You only want wealth and strength. But where is your heart? Our fathers' last wish was to keep the peace."

"Peace is for the weak only." Nicholas shot back. "And wolves eat the peaceful because they are weak." 

"Then I would like my fair share of the land." Caleb rested his hand on his sword. Maxon laughed a humorless laugh," Father's choice was just another game he left for us to play. He knew our nature; he knew what we would do." Maxon's shoulders slumped.  The meadow, a peaceful refuge under the stars, now resembled a battlefield. He hoped outside of the courts' toxicity, they might discover reconciliation. Instead, the raw ambition, once hidden beneath a fragile veneer of brotherhood, was now on full display.  The shared memories of childhood were being burned away by 

the firey heat of their rivalry. Nicholas, resolve etched on his face, turned, then walked toward his waiting group beyond the field. "We're done here," he called over his shoulder."The game is over."

Caleb spat on the ground and followed, his guards flanking him. Maxon, without a word, vanished into the woods, as silent as a hunter. Only Bruce staye. The stars seemed to dim as he watched the others leave,, and now held a new, chill promise of conflist He knew now that that the peace he sought would not come from an argument but through a bitter struggle: a bitter, bloody warwaged between brothers. He looked at the ground and saw four distinct hoof prints, leading away from the middle toward four different uncertain destinies.

Chapter Two: Raven

Raven wasn't a princess; she wasn't a queen. She was nothing fancy. Raven was an ordinary girl, living in an ordinary place called Ragmarket. She lived with four other orphans: Beatrice, Grace, Cooper, and Roman. Raven lived in a small cottage in a meadow near Wolves Forest. Wolv's Forest was beautiful. Everywhere you looked, all you could see were greens and blues, reds and oranges, browns and blacks. Her favorite place was Burnt Tree Meadow. It was near the Firehole River. She kneeled down over her garden to pick weeds, while the others were inside or playing out in the meadow.

"Raven! Raven, come quick!" Cooper called, running towards the garden.

"What is it, Cooper?" she asked, wiping her hands upon her apron.

"The guards! They're looking for you. Run! " He commanded.

"No. I have been running all my life. It is time to defend what is ours." She said calmly, walking towards the cottage. Cooper hurried after all the while trying to get her to 

change her mind. But it was no use: only rarely did she change her mind.

"What is all of this about?" she inquired, placing the apron on the table, addressing the guards.

"Queen Briar Rose would like to meet you. She has sent us on this mission to bring you to the palace, where she'll be waiting for you. You are to dress nicely." he looked at her clothes with disgust." And you are to come quickly; you don't want to get her mad," he said. 

Raven crossed to her room and shut the door. She rummaged through the dresser, then the wardrobe, before she finally found her best dress.

It was gray; the neckline was low, but finely decorated with beautiful patterns. She pinned her curly black hair with a clip adorned with fake roses. She grabbed her choker; it was also delicately patterned with black silk. There was a rose on the front, also made from silk.

There was a banging on the door,"Hurry up girl!" the guards called.

She walked out of the room, the dress skirts swishing behind her.

"Raven, please don't do this," Cooper begged.

"I have to," she told him.

She followed the guards as they led her to their horses. A guard offered her his hand, she took it, and he helped her onto the horse. The horse was a mare with long black hair.

The ride was long; it usually took a few hours to get to the palace on foot. The castle was already coming into view. The castle wasn't like all the others. This castle was built from obsidian and cement. The windows were made by the finest glassmakers in all the land. The glassmakers were famous for their tiny animal figurines and human sculptures. The glass makers were rumored to be using actual people and animals. But of course, no one believed that. The rumores started one year ago, by the arrival of the new glassmakers and their sculptures. When we arrived at the castle stables, the 

horses were brought to a halt. Raven leaped down, paying no mind to the guards extended hand. It was a good thing it didn't rain the night before. The guards escorted her to the main entrance of the palace. The stairs were made of polished stone.

We walked through the Grand Hall with its big chandeliers. She followed the guards up three flights of stairs before they entered the queens' study.

"The Queen has been waiting for you.. You may enter," the guard blocking the door told her. Raven entered, skirts swishing as she walked to the queen's desk, she curtsied.

"Your Highness, I'm Raven Riddle. You have sent for me?" she says.

"Yes I've sent for you. I am Queen Briar Rose, as you know." she stood. Her wavy, golden hair fell in cascades down her back. On top of her head she wore a tiara of rubies and emeralds; her dress of midnight blue and gold, with a leafed waistband, set off her eyes. Rings lay on her fingers. There was a thin line of pale skin on her left ring finger. The queen had worn her wedding ring two weeks before she destroyed it.     

   She wore the ring after the king’s death, which made little sense. It’s possible she continued to love him, or the ring may have made her think of the late king. “I have sent for you because you have something of mine,” the queen continued.    

   As I thought of what of mine might be hers, she said something that surprised me.                                     “You have been in the orphanage for three years. We finally found you, child,” she said. The queen’s eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill.                                                                                                     “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.                                                                                                       “You are my long-lost daughter. Katie, that’s what I called you,” she smiled.                                                        “If  I’m your daughter, then tell me what my favorite color is,” Raven demanded.

“Your favorite color is blue, your birthday is in February,” the queen concluded.       

   She was speechless. No one knew anything about her, not even her friends. She never celebrated her birthday, let alone even mention it.                                                

     “I have gone to the seer for help. She showed me where you lived,  what you did, your friends, and your beloved garden.” The queen didn’t smile at all.”I miss you, Katie. Please come home.”   Raven                                   

turned and ran for the door. 

“Stop!” The queen’s commanding tone froze Raven on the spot.”Where are you going?” Queen Rose asked quietly.     

  “Home to collect my things, of course, then you can give me a proper tour of my new home as soon as I return,” she said.                                                                                                 No one dares to deny the seer anything,  let alone call them a liar. So Raven had no choice but to allow the queen to have her wish and return to the palace.   “We will have so much fun together, darling.  We can share gossip and dress designs. Won’t that be fun?” the queen persisted.                                                       

  “Sure, why not?”

As Raven entered the little cottage that was her only home for years, she dreaded telling the news about leaving. Grace was only nine, she didn’t want to watch her cry. The boys thought she could handle telling them that Raisa was responsible so she 

would know what to do when she was gone.                            

   “Raven, you’re back!” cheered Grace, jumping around in joy until Raisa told her that it wasn’t proper.

   “Cooper, Roman, Raisa, come, we must talk.” She led them to the kitchen.                                                          With a heavy sigh, she started to explain her situation to her three friends.              

    “Please take care of Grace while I’m gone. I’ll try to visit you when I can,” she concluded.

 "Please take care of yourself, Rav," said Cooper.

"I will try," she sighed.

Chapter Three: The Hunt

The air was still and cold, a raw- edged bite that gnawed at any exposed skin. Cooper moved with a quiet born of long practice, his boots finding the spotless patches of pine needles, and damp earth. He was a shadow within the shadows of the ancient forest, a figure of practiced silence. For him hunting wasn’t a sport or a pastime;  it was a conversation, an old and solemn language passed down from his grandfather, and his grandfather’s grandfather and so on.  He knelt beside a freshly snapped twig, his breath a white cloud in the gloom. The snap hadn’t been an animal, but a novice hunters’. Cooper shook his head annoyed, he hadn’t found any deer in a while. The memory of last year’s near-death starvation was the fault of bad hunting.  He stood and continued his slow trek. He saw the faint claw marks on the bark of an aspen, too high for a buck to leave, but perfect for a black bear. He smelled the rich, decaying scent of wet leaves and the crisp clean scent of pine.                   

  And then he heard it. Not a sound, not exactly. He froze, becoming part of the still forest around him.  His eyes, trained by years of scanning the woods, saw it first; a flicker of deep brown against the undergrowth. He didn’t move, not a muscle. He breathed slowly, deliberately, controlling the frantic pulse in his throat.   

 The deer appeared not as a crashing disturbance but as a silent brushstroke of brown in the early-morning gray.  Cooper’s heart quickened its pace. For a bowhunter the hunt is not about a disturbance and a loud report, but is about proximity, and stillness, a part of the long conversation. Bowhunting demands an imitate understanding about the animal, and its habitats.   You must think like your quarry, anticipating its every move, its routines, and its vulnerable ability.  Through the branches he saw the silhouette of a bull elk, its massive rack a crown of bone and promise. It was grazing peacefully, unaware of the silent intruder. A beginning hunter might have rushed, fired wildly, but Cooper waited.    This was the moment his father always described, the part of the conversation where you would actually pay attention. He observed the animal, admired its strength, and watched for the clean ethical shot.                                  

When the moment came, it was not rushed. He raised his bow, a slow, deliberate move. The compound bow was an elegant hand down. Every second was an eternity. His muscles steamed at the effort of holding the bow. But years of practice with Roman had built a solid foundation of muscle memory.                    As if reading his mind, the elk took a step forward, and another, then another. He paused at 30 yards, head still down. This was his shot. He exhaled slowly, releasing the arrow. Cooper holds his breath, hoping the arrow found its mark. For a moment, the elk froze. The elk dropped a second later. He walked towards it, his steps heavier now, no longer a shadow.   

  He approached the body, hands resting on the elk, head bowed in silent prayer for the life he took.  The work began. It was hard and bloody, and a long journey from the clearing to the elk. But as Cooper worked, he conjured memories of the others, pale and staring.  This was not a trophy. This was the old way. This was respect.

Chapter Five: The Lost Princess Returns

Raven felt like a caged bird in her new home. The queen had already begun her lessons with private tutors, with names like Master Allister, Master Renwick, Lady Clairessa, Professor  Quentin, and others like Lord Aric and Professor Alexandria.

The dining room was to the left, they told her, and the Great Room was to the right. She got a glimpse of the sprawling glass doors, and she wished we could stop. Raven was shown where she was to eat. They left the dining hall and continued up a set of stairs. They rounded a corner and climbed up a massive set of stairs before they reached the third floor.  

There was a Green Drawing Room on the second floor, next to the Throne Room, the Art Gallery, and the White Drawing Room. There was a music room and a Blue Drawing Room.   The West Gallery, the East Gallery and the State Dining Room. A Center Room, a Chinese luncheon.   

 High windows let in the light and it smelled like flowers and sunshine. Large paintings hung on the walls depicting the royal families from the past.             

        “Your things are already in your room. If the decor is unsuitable, tell your maids. You have five of them. And they are already in your rooms. They will help you unpack.”said a guard with a southern accent.  

  A doll dressed in an old fashioned gown sat gazing at her from a shelf.  Combs and brushes lay clustered on the desk, and crystal perfume bottles sat arrayed on a silver platter.  Carved wolves graced the wooden mantle above the fireplace. Bookshelves lined the public rooms. More books lay  piled on the nightstand. I had a view of the town in one window, the others showed the lake.    They deposited me  in front of my new room and left. I opened the door to find five maids already cleaning the room. They scurried over and introduced themselves as, Iris, Rose, Heather, Hazel, and Lily. But I forgot which was which almost immediately. I already knew they set special things for me in the bedroom, drawers, and bathroom.       

They deposited me in front of my new room and left. I opened the door to find five maids already cleaning the room. They scurried over and introduced themselves as Iris, Rose, Heather, Hazel, and Lily. But I forgot which was which almost immediately. I already knew they set special things for me in the bedroom, drawers, and bathroom.    

A few moments later, the maids asked if they could prepare me for dinner with the queen. Of course, I said yes.                                                                           

   They pulled parts of my hair back and lined it with pins. Then they did my makeup. The dress, like the rest of my clothes were made by their hands- was a deep, floral green that reached the floor. Without the heels, I would have walked all over the gown. 

    The queen knocked on the door promptly at six to take me to the dining hall. When I entered the dining room, I looked around. In one corner, there was a string quartet. There was a fireplace in the back of the room. After a delicious meal of strawberry tarts and apple cider. I returned to my room, where I slipped into my night gown and under the covers of my bed.

Raven woke refreshed the next morning. I sighed and slid out of bed. These last two months have been full of adventures. I gazed out the window as my maids walked into the room to begin their long day of hard work. Soon it would be my birthday, in a few days. There were a lot of parties in January because no one wanted to have their party in the month the queen was holding her celebrations.   

 On the day of the party, the maids helped me into my finest blue gown, pinned up my hair with pins, and did my makeup before letting me leave for breakfast. 

"Hello, mother. Did you sleep well?" I asked as I sat.   

"Yes, did you?" the queen nibbled on bread.

"Yes. I had pleasant dreams. What are we doing today? " I said.

       “We will continue to plan for your birthday,” she said simply.                              

       “What will we work on today?” I asked                                                                         

   “The jeweler has arrived; we must finalize the choice of your jewelry for the ball,” she announced. 

       “But Mother! All that heavy gold and diamonds upon my head will give me a headache.” I complained.                                                                                     

      The queen’s eyes softened as she smiled sweetly at her long-lost daughter,” Please, dear. It is a gift from the people. It would mean so much to them. And it’s only for a few hours.”                                                     I smiled tightly.  I had expected a grand affair where all eyes would be on the queen. But instead, they would be on me, a clumsy girl who doesn’t know how to walk in heels. 

“Could we have a party in the garden?”I asked.                                                

       “Sorry, dear, we must hold it in the Grand Hall. It will be chilly that night,” she said, taking a bite of strawberry truffles,” But if you want, we could have you touch it up to your liking. If you want,t of course. We could run the decor ideas by you if you wanted.” She smiled sweetly.                                                          I  smiled instantly,” Really? That would be great, mother.”

 After breakfast, I scurried to my room.  A few minutes later, my tutor,  Master Allister, knocked on my door.           

  “Come in,” I said. And for the next hour, I worked on my social grace.                                      

“Miss, you're back already?”Irisis asked.                                     

   “Yes, mother said I could have the day off to go over the party decoration designs,” I said calmly.                “Of course. Please continue what you are doing,” she said, stepping aside to let the young princess by.                                     

 The dresses Lady Claressa showed her were  all too fancy. But she did indeed like the elegant blue dress that mirrored the night sky with its many stars shining bright.                                                                       Days blurred into shimmers of silk and satin and lace, and flowers. Lady Clariessa continued,” Your highness, you must complete the menu. And we must finalize your dress before the party.”                           The party was in two days, royal families were coming to greet the new princess. It was all too overwhelming.                                                                      

         “Of course, I shall go to the Grand Hall to overlook the ongoings,” I grabbed a piece of scribbled paper off the desk and shoved it into her hands,”Please take this to the Head Chief.”                                            I sashayed out of the room letting the door close behind me.      

Days passed in suffering from headaches. The excitement pressed on Raven, reminding her of her old friends. Hours before the party, she was fitted into the new gown. Her mother walked around her, smiling as she studied the dress on the poor girl's thin frame. She grasped the child’s hands tightly as they walked down the stairs together. Before they reached the last flight of stairs, the music and conversations stopped, and all eyes turned to her, the future queen. The crier announced their arrival.  

   Raven understood the theme immediately.   Roses for love, and irises for acceptance.  Raven smiled at the royal families in bows or courtesies. They walked the rest of the way hand in hand. That is when she saw him. The queen’s loyal companion, Lord Aric. 

 The queen, however, did not notice him lurking in the shadows.  As she wandered by the fireplace, the princes bowed, and the princesses swept into elegant curtsies. She did not recognize anyone from the rumors.                        

    “Hello, my lady. May I have this dance?” She swept around to find a prince holding out his hand. She hadn’t noticed the music had started again.                         

      Raven smiled and took the prince’s hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor. The night flew by with new friends and faces. Finally, as they stood to the toast of the future queen, it sank in. The queen’s face was a mirror of pure terror and pain mingled with surprise and betrayal. The ball had not ended in dancing and laughter, but surprise and sorrow. 

 The queen lay on the floor in a crumpled heap of silk as blood pooled around her. Raven rushed forward and fell on her knees in the blood.                                 

  “Mother,” she cried,” Mother, please, don’t die.” She sobbed endlessly, holding her mother in her arms.              “Katie, I- I love you,” she said with her last breath.  The queens guard pulled her away as she      

struggled, tears streaming down her cheeks. The guards escorted the royal guest to their rooms. They had Raven stay. In sorrow, it was the beginning of her hard, long future as the youngest queen in all the realms. She watched as they took her mother away and cleaned the blood off the marble floors.

“Raven?” a girl asked. She saw it was Irises, and more tears poured down her face. She let the maid lead her to her room.   

  The gown was covered in blood. She immediately sent the maids out of her room, with many complaints. She curled on the floor in a crumpled heap.  

 A few minutes later, there was a sharp knock on the door. “Come in,” she rasped. The prince she met at the dance entered swiftly. She straightened her hair as he helped her into a sitting position on the bed.          “What are you doing here?” she asked.                               

  “I am sorry about the queen. I wish I could stay with you and keep you company, but we are leaving tonight. So I thought I would tell you.” And with that, he left.  

A week passed befor she left her room again. A tentative knock on the door, ”Your majesty, there’s a meeting you need to participate in.” said Lady Clarisse. Raven sighed as she readied herself      

 and followed the tutor to a large room.                                  

   The room had twelve chairs. All were taken except for the one at the head of the table. There was Liam, the Financial Consultant, Noa, the Investment Advisor, and Emma, the Wealth Manager. And more she could not name. The guards stood positioned by the double doors.    

   She was led to the head of the table, where she sat rigidly.                                                                          “We did not expect you as the heir to the throne,” said Master Allister.              

“Neither have I. What is so important that you need me?’ I questioned.               

  “Well, my lady. Lord Aric is questioning your right to the throne.” He nodded behind me.  

I turned to a surprising picture of Lord Aric being held by the guards. Somehow, I didn’t notice that before, or they just arrived.                                        

    I turned to face the advisors,” Search his chambers, we might find something…  interesting. Guards take him to the dungeon.” I commanded.                

“But, my lady. Search his chambers,” gasped Emma.                           

     “Yes. Search his chambers top to bottom. Lord Aric, I hope you like rats.” I smiled icily before leaving.

As ordered, they searched his chambers as he spent the night in a cold dungeon cell, whose only company was the rats.                                

 The next day another meeting was held.                            

    “My’lady it seems you were correct that we might find something interesting in his chambers.” She held out pieces of torn paper and a dagger with the queens’ blood.            The letters of course had detailed plots on overthrowing the queen.    

A few days befor Lord Aric, was executed and she was crowned queen. Just the day befor yesterday, she was invited to a meeting at Stonehaven, with two other kings. Today as she studied herself in the mirror, a slightly pale girl with long black wavy hair, and brown eyes.  She pulled a dark red and black dress with an exotic white patterned embroidery.  The maids did her hair in a french twist woven with white roses and lilies. And a black veil inlaid with jewels. It was supposed to be the symbol of mourning a beloved one, her maids told her.

beloved one, her maids told her.

Chapter Five: The Death of A Queen

 He hated the way his grief became a mirror, reflecting a phantom in the children who depended on him. He hated the pang of bitterness that came every time he looked at them, a bitterness directed not at the kids, but at the palace that had taken a friend. The only one who understood him.             

      That night, a cold autumn wind swept through their hovel. The flimsy roof rattled, and the children huddled closer together around the meager fire. Cooper watched them, the firelight dancing in their eyes. He had promised Raven he would take care of them. Cooper’s resentment of the royals fueled him, a fire that kept him going in a world that had forgotten them. But the real warmth, he knew, came not from the flames of the fire, but from the small, sleeping bodies pressed against his. He was no king, no prophesied hero. He was just Cooper. The boy who lost a friend and gained a family. And for now, that would have to be enough. 

In the crowded market square, Cooper adjusted his satchel strap on his aching shoulder. The scent of fresh bread mingled with cinnamon and flower perfume.

    The satchel contained the day's scavenging of apples and berries. He felt a familiar ache in his shoulders, but his mind was elsewhere.       

 Just beyond the town square, the castle towers touched the clouds. It was a constant reminder that his friend was thrust into royalty without wanting to. Just two months ago,o they would have been playing in the meadow with the others.  Now she was wearing silk and satin, with everything she could ever want, while he was caring for a family of orphans like him.

  A  commotion drew his attention. The heralds were blowing trumpets as a wagon carrying a man in a suit followed. Behind them, a guy was welding an axe, wearing a black mask to cover his face.  The crowd drew apart reluctantly, making way for them.   At the centre,r there sat Raven, upon a beautiful black stallion, wearing a beautiful black dress.  Her hair was laid with flowers. As she passed people throwing flowers at her, she caught one. She held it up to her nose to smell and smiled as she waved to the crowd.                     

 Her eyes caught mine, and for the briefest of moments,s she looked truly happy. For the briefest of moments, ts they were just friends on the opposite sides of the street.  He waved a greeting, and she          

returned it. 

  He clutched his heavy satchel. He made good timing today, arriving at the break of dawn while the market was just becoming too crowded to move about. He continued on his way to quickly tell the other about the trip. 

“So, she was wearing her tiara?” Grace asked, hanging onto every word.           

    “Why should we care? She just left us for everything else. She didn’t even care.” said Beatice angrily.                                           

   “Hey! She was our friend. You heard what the guards said.” accused Roman.      

    “What did the guards say?” asked Grace.                                                                “Nothing!” they yelled at the same time. Grace burst into tears and ran into her room. I sighed and followed her.  With a quick knock on the door I strided through the room to the bed side. She lay there, head in the pillow, sobbing. I stroked her hair for a minute telling her that we were sorry and everything would be fine. As the tears receded she laughed.       

  “What’s so funny? “I asked. How could she be laughing?                                    

    Her face turned red as she gasped for air. Her laughter was contagious because soon I was laughing too, clutching my gut.                                                

   When we finally stopped,d she said,” Remember what Raven would do when we all argued?”                          “Yeah. Why?”                                                                                                 

      “She used to tickle us until we apologized.” She stood to leave for the door.       We walked to the others, their facgrimime.                                                       

          “What’s the matter?” I asked.                                                                              

         “She – she’s dead.” Beatrice criein despairir.                                                            

  “The queen was killed last night.  There is an execution, then a funeral.” Roman explained. That explains the executioner, and that guy in the chains, I thought.

thigh. He had spent a wee bit of money repairing the cottage. Now there were comfortable cotton blankets and a thick mattress for each bed. Little Grace had enough food for herself.

 “Cooper, bad day for us, wouldn’t you say?” asked Mr. Everwoven.                    

     “Yes sir. How are you holding up?” I clutched my bag full of meager coins.         “What would you like today?” he asked.   

   “Just looking.” He turned to scan the shelves.                                                            Everything was black. The jeans were black, the aprons were black.So was  the jackets.         “Why is everything black?” asked Cooper.                                                                  “Everything is black, as is proper, boy.  Now buy something or leave!” he commanded.   A strange chill crept up his spin. It was unrelated to the weather.It was as if someone had risen from their grave and touched him.  He turned for the door, hoping to get rid of the sudan chill.       

 That’s when he saw it.   

had risen from their grave and touched him.  He turned for the door, hoping to get rid of the sudan chill.       

 That’s when he saw it. 

   A purple velvet gown. It sat in the corner, ruffled by the gentle breeze. It had a light colored cape attached to the neck flowing down the back. The neck curved down in a v- shape.The straps were a   flowered pattern. Raven would love it. But she probably didn’t come here anymore with her fancy tailors and dressmakers.  He took a hesitant step towards it.                                

  He would get it for Ravens’ birthday. Yes that would be perfect,he thought.            He turned to the counter to ask the price., but Mr. Everwoven wasn’t there. He must have left while he was looking at the clothing. He turned back to the dress.   He stumbled backwards into a shelf of leather clan made jackets.      

      There hovered the dress mid-air. He scrambled to his feet, eyes never leaving the dress. The dress started turning in a slow eerie dance. It wasn’t a show for him, but a memory.  As soon as it started it stopped. There was a puff of air behind him. He whirled to the desk  to see Mr. Everwoven writing in a. 

large leather-bound book. A piece of old-looking paper floated from the desk, and he knelt to grab it. On the piece of paper, in small writing, it said, For the ones who remember.

 A purple velvet gown. It sat in the corner, ruffled by the gentle breeze. It had a light colored cape attached to the neck, flowing down the back. The neck curved down in a V-shape. The straps were a flowered pattern. Raven would love it. But she probably didn’t come here anymore with her fancy tailors and dressmakers.  He took a hesitant step towards it.                                

  He would get it for Ravens’ birthday. Yes, that would be perfect, he thought.            He turned to the counter to ask the price, but Mr. Everwoven wasn’t there. He must have left while he was looking at the clothing. He turned back to the dress.   He stumbled backwards into a shelf of leather-clad jackets.           

 There hovered the dress mid-air. He scrambled to his feet, eyes never leaving the dress. The dress started turning in a slow, eerie dance. It wasn’t a show for him, but a    

memory.  As soon as it started, it stopped. There was a puff of air behind him. He whirled to the desk to see Mr. Everwoven writing in a large leather-bound book. A piece of old-looking paper floated from the desk, and he knelt to grab it. On the piece of paper, in small writing, it said, For the ones who remember.   

 He jumped to his feet and ran through the door. Mr. Everwoven didn’t even look up. He paused for a breath of air as he noticed that the familiar sounds of the town were gone. Where there was a bell chiming in the distance, there was now an eerie silence.                  

Panic began to rise. He turned his head down both ends of the street until he saw something move from shadow to shadow. Not something, but someone, he corrected himself. At a closer look, it appeared to be a woman in a long dress. It was the same dress from the store. Now hovering above the ground as it glided towards him.           

 As the woman came closer, he sucked in air,r preparing to run for it. The woman’s face was un-kissee and healthy. Her blue eyes glittered in the sun, her cheeks rosy. Her blue hair was in a V-braid. Her face was hidden behind a mask. She raised a hand, and a black mist surrounded him like fog.              

 The ground around him rippled like water. The grimy brick walls twisted and rearranged. The cobblestones reappeared, and he gained his balance again. There was a Black insignia of a raven wearing a crown on a passing carriage. Of course, he knew that insignia anywhere. It was Ravens’.

 Her name inspired the raven symbol; royalty conferred the crown.   Every royal family has its own insignia. Legends tell of royal princes gathering in the woods one night. Following their meeting, they decided to separate. . .        

    He watched as the carriage rattled away. He turned and ran all the way home. Which was very far.    

Chapter Six: The Rebels attack

The carriage stopped, and Raven surveyed the undulating green hills and abundant crops before being led to the meeting room. The malignant walls extend to the sky. And marble walls adorned with tapestries. There was a big fireplace located on one side of the room.  Surrounding the dark oak table, polished to a sheen, were twelve chairs. At the head of the table sat the king, and two other kings were engaged in an intense money-related conversation. When she entered the room, silence descended. Nodding, the king motioned for her to take the seat opposite the princes’. She recognized them immediately as King Mason, King Joshua, and King Joey. They smiled kindly at her.      

 “Word spread of the queens’ death. We are truly sorry.” king Mason said.            

  Not getting a reply he continued,”This is —”  

“I know who they are,” I said icily.   “Well then. You are?” he asked. “Raven. But the people call me Queen Katie.” I said to correct my mistake.    

 “Well, Queen Katie. It is an honor. We also heard of the execution you held for Lord Aric. Why, may I ask, was he executed?” he said, attempting to get a conversation started. 

 “Treason to the beloved Queen Briar Ros,” I said warily. “Well, what a shame he was such a nice person,” he said. “What is it you really need? Certainly not a friend.” I said harshly. He looked taken aback,  Welle, ll we wanted to meet the new qu,een of course.” “Please take off the veil.” Joshua finally said.

 I glared hard at him before removing the veil and setting it on the table. The three kings gasped at once. I grinned,” Hello, old friends. Long time no see.”        Raven stood to leave before anything bad could happen.                         

 “Please stay,” begged Joey.

I sat and smiled.                                            

“When did you become royal?” asked Josh.