The Last Princess

HAIR red as fire. Eyes green as leaf. Skin pale as snow. Lips dark as blood. Lashes black as night. Beauty.

I knew everything the people called me. But I also knew about words hardly anyone dared use in front of me.

A sudden migraine spiraled through my head. Not so strong. But still, it made me grimace and collapse into my nearby plush green armchair. All for show, of course. My real room was somewhere else.

Just as I controlled the migraine, she bustled in. Hair long, till her waist, and dark as night. Her eyes, green as mine widened in false concern. She was wearing a long, elegant red gown, dark as blood. Fitting, with the blood of seven—almost eight—girls on her hands. On her forehead sat the silver circlet, identifying her as the Queen she was. “Elvina. How is my weak daughter?”

*Weak. Useless. Powerless. Talentless. *

Words that hardly anyone dared use in front of me. But three people could.

I wished name-calling was the only thing they could do to me.

“I’m fine, Queen Ivy. Any reason why you came?” I stood up, hiding my grimace. Of course, it didn’t fool her. But no matter.

“Your attendants have come, for the ceremony,” she said coldly, her eyes flitting across my body with the disapproval they always held while looking at me.

I managed to nod.

She swept out of the room, leaving ten females to come in.

“Come, Princess,” the leader, said. They were on my mother’s side, like so many others. She would allow me no allies here. The last two years of my life had been so lonely, with only Maple. Ever since Juniper died.

No.

Ever since she was murdered.

Silently, the females forced me down on a chair and proceeded to do my hair, dress me in a velvet green gown, put pink pollen on my cheeks, apply raspberry juice on my lips, and outline my large eyes with black dye. “You’re ready, Princess,” the leader said, as the attendants bowed out. I sighed, both glad and unhappy to be left alone.

I stood, walking to the large, ornate mirror that hung nearby. I didn’t understand why elves called me such an uncommon beauty. Perhaps I was pretty, but not so very much.

I touched a hand to the mirror and felt its smooth, cold glass. The girl in the mirror was real—and yet only a reflection. I wished I could enjoy this life.

There were perks to being royal. If only one could enjoy said perks without the threat of one’s imminent demise hovering over one’s head.

Not the rebels. I was talking of my mother.

I left the mirror as yet another migraine spiraled through. This one was stronger. I hated having these headaches. They made me weak. As if being powerless wasn’t enough.

As I held my head in pain, the door flew open again. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. There was only one person it could be at this time.

“Elvina! Are you alright?” Maple’s concerned voice reached me, and I looked up to nod at a girl walking through the door. Her honey-colored hair was tied up in a sharp bun, and she was wearing the typical maid’s uniform—she’d obviously just left her duties to come meet me.

“I’m fine,” I said, through gritted teeth.

“Another headache?” She asked, concern written in her delicate features. She was the only one who showed me such concern. I didn’t know how she managed to get into my room every day, and she never told me. I was of the opinion that the guards felt some pity for me and figured one maid couldn’t do anything.

Even though Maple was only a maid at the palace, she had more authority than me. The princess. The only princess.

“It’s gone. I’m fine,” I replied.

“Good. You’ll be wanted at the ceremony in some time,” she told me.

“Thank you for the warning,” I said, flashing her a smile.

She nodded and wrapped her arms around me, holding me there in a quick hug, before scurrying out of the room.

I sighed, waiting. I knew who’d come soon—the question was how I was going to deal with it.

Soon enough, the door flew open. No one would ever bother to knock on my door, of course.

There stood a boy, a year older than me, his dark brown eyes glittering with malice.

I stumbled back a step, unable to stop the terror coursing through me.

Forreston smirked as he saw my fear. “Come, Elvina. I’m here to escort you to the ceremony.” He walked up to me and put his hand through mine. I started at his touch. He smiled crookedly and ordered, “Come.” I glared at the floor, and then decided. If I was going out, I was going out fighting.

I yanked my hand out of his. “Get off of me!”

He stared at me, wide-eyed. In all these years, I’d never dared to raise my voice to him. “You will be punished for this,” he hissed dangerously, dark eyes narrowing.

My heart was pounding, but I didn’t back down. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”

“Maybe I’ll do your punishing tonight,” he mused, his voice calm as though he was contemplating what would be for dinner—but I could hear the rage underneath it, hidden like the bed of a deep river.

“I don’t care,” I said, face aflame. “Why should I care what you do to me?”

He glared right back at me. “I’m your brother, Elvina!” The words were taunting, like he knew how much that would affect me.

“No, you’re not!” I said loudly, facing him.

“Of course I am,” he said smoothly. His calm was scarier than his anger. “We have the same mother.”

“But different fathers!” I retorted. His eyes widened. I was pleased to think I’d shocked him.

“How dare you?”

I scoffed, fully aware of his narrowing eyes, of the way his skin became chalky white, like it did whenever he was furious.

“I am the son of Rowan Elowen, King of the Elves. I am Prince Forreston Elowen,” Forreston said in a controlled voice. I looked at him evenly. Now that I had started, I couldn’t stop.

“No, you’re not.”

He clenched and unclenched his hand like he wanted to strike me, but he couldn’t, not with the Ceremony. He couldn’t let the marks show. I knew that, and I was using it to my advantage. Though I would be severely punished later, I continued, “And I don’t need an escort. I’ll go on my own.”

He gritted his teeth and glared at me. He pointed his index finger in my face. “Watch out, sister.” Without looking back, he strode out of the room.

I sighed. A small victory.