Kyra pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her cheeks upon them, frowning at the thought of one day having her own daughter. “Do I have to?”
“You must. The Queen’s daughter always becomes the next Queen.”
“Were you the other Queen’s daughter?” she innocently asked.
The Queen’s lips pursed as her faced tightened. “The other Queen is gone. You’ll be the next Queen when the day comes. It has always been your destiny to wear the Crown, and you will.”
Kyra’s young face crumpled at an unspoken thought. “If I’m Queen will I have to have a King?”
“Yes, to have a daughter you will need to have a King. He’ll need to be worthy enough to carry on our family name, to act in his duties as King of Terra.”
As she grew older, Kyra received more lessons on what it meant to be the Queen, learning from her mother the qualities required of the position. She was to remain poised and controlled, to be authoritative and bold, to be loved respected at the same time.
Growing up as the next Queen of Terra had its advantages. She was educated by the most respected Elders, dressed in finer clothes than even the wealthiest residents, and always had a companion to play with. Her constant companion was Owyn, who as a kid was precocious and entertaining, and one of the cutest boys in Terra. However, there was another boy who rivaled the future King in good looks and charm. Evander Nero.
She remembered being summoned to the Throne Room as a young woman, the royal title not far away in her future. The Queen sat on the throne as invited residents of Royal City gathered in the room, each dressed in their finest attire. The walls were dark with the view of surrounding galaxies, stars and constellations swirling about the cosmos around them. It was her favorite view of all and one she kept for herself when she became Queen.
She stood to the right of her mother, her purple dress tight like a corset around her waist and fabric that draped down to the floor where it swished against her jewel-adorned feet. The Queen herself had never looked more radiant. She wore an antique white dress similar to Kyra’s with a long transport that sparkled with hundreds of crystals as she moved.
The Queen spoke to the congregated residents in the most enigmatic fashion, their faces rapt with attention as she thanked them for their presence and announcing that her daughter, the future Queen of Terra, would marry Owyn. The generous applause camouflaged the dissatisfied gasp that escaped from Kyra’s mouth. She knew better than to let her emotions show on her face, a valuable lesson the Queen instilled in her, but there was little she could do to control the storm of fury that picked up inside her.
She could hear nothing but her own thoughts as the Queen brought her and Owyn together, each standing at her side. The Queen had never once asked her what she thought about marrying him. There was never so much a question about her willingness to marry him. Like every matter of her life up to that point her fate had been decided for her. Her eyes searched through the crowd and found Evander standing next to his sister, each of them looking bored and uninterested. When his green eyes made contact with hers he smiled kindly and clapped, more for his benefit than hers.
After the announcement was made and everyone had dispersed back to their residences, the Queen came to Kyra’s room carrying a glass box.
“I had this made especially for you, Darling,” she declared. She handed the box to Kyra and watched as she opened it, revealing an exquisite tiara made of the finest jewels she had ever seen. Kyra turned it in her hands, watching as it refracted rainbows of light on her hands and throughout the room. She was still stung by the news of her impending marriage to Owyn and trying desperately to show her gratitude instead of her temper.
“It’s exquisite,” she admired.
“One day you’ll wear the crown of the Queen, but this one will be just for you. After all you are a princess. Go ahead, try it on,” the Queen encouraged.
Kyra carefully placed the headpiece at the top of her head and smoothed the loose strands of hair down beneath it. It fit perfectly.
“There are many more beautiful things awaiting you in your future, Kyra. I want you to remember this day each time you wear this.”
Kyra caught her brilliant but unsmiling reflection in a nearby mirror. She indeed looked the part of an adored princess, diamonds sparkling like a halo above her head. Despite the generosity and beauty of the gift she still felt bruised about her sudden betrothal.
“Do I have to marry him?” she asked sullenly. The light of the Queen’s face diminished at the question, a twitch of a forced smile on her lips. Kyra noticed her mother’s glare and cast her eyes down. She did not dare to look at her own reflection, sure that she looked as ugly and petulant as she sounded.