It was a quiet, tranquil morning. There were chirping birds, crying cockerels, all the works and… Choice Legume was having a nightmare. This was unfortunately common for her. She regularly had nightmares to the point that these days the way she woke up didn’t change regardless of whether she had a good dream or not.

She looked mournfully at her bed. Nightmare or not, sleeping was a privilege. One she still had problems with after three years at her aunt’s and seven at the Perpetual Finishing School for Young Women. Staying awake till late at night and waking up early in the morning while looking flawless was the unofficial motto of the school. She wouldn’t be able to go back to bed.

Choice sat at her bed wondering what she was going to that day. This wasn’t something she was used to do. There was always something to do at Aunt Bas’ then at school and then at Aunt Bas’ when she finished school. It had being a year since she returned to the palace and not knowing what she had to do for the day was weird and apparently common for people at the palace. She was not used to no one telling her what to do.

While contemplating what to do for the day, there was a knock at her door. And that would be the maid.

“Enter.”

Surprisingly, it was not the maid. Instead it was her younger brother, Forrest. Forrest Legume was her new brother adopted by the king. Imagine her surprise when she returned to the palace after eleven years away to find out that she had a new brother. One as old as her younger brother Seph. Technically, he was adopted into the royal family as a way to honour his father. But everyone knew that he was the King’s bastard son.

What really really annoyed her about Forrest was that he was a new member of the royal family but even him was a heir to the throne. Even a bastard child form nowhere had a claim to the throne before her! All because he had a dick.

Choice knew that there’d never been a woman on the throne before and she’d made peace with the fact that she would never be the King. After all, it was just a childhood dream and not all of them needed to be fulfilled. Aunt Bas had made sure of that. Still, a bastard had more right to the throne than she did. That was not right.

However, that was all beneath the surface. On the surface, when she had found out about her new brother, she had been pleased. She had claimed that the Kingdom had been blessed to have more heirs and that she was happy of proof of her father’s virility. She had said that she was happy to have another sibling. All lies. But she got along well with Forrest.

“Forrest, you know I’m always pleased to see any of my brothers. But it’s not really proper for a man to be in a woman’s private dwellings.”

“Oh,” Forrest said, looking around. He looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know.” Of course you didn’t know, you didn’t get punished heavily for not knowing the common courtesies between males and females. “I didn’t mean to,” he continued, “I’ll wait at the door.” He quickly left his room scratching his head while Choice sat on her bed smiling.

As soon as he left, her smile dropped. The annoying thing about dealing with her Forrest, no all her brothers, was that she was very certain that Forrest and the other boys loved her. However, she was very certain that they cared for her only because they didn’t consider her a threat. How infuriating.

Choice walked to her door and opened it only to see Forrest and Seph arguing with each other. She didn’t give a damn if they argued or even tried to harm one another but why the hell do they have to do it in front of her door or anywhere in her presence. Now that she’d seen them, it would only be expected of her to be a peacekeeper, a neutral force that prevented fighting. Well to work.

“What’s going on?” She asked looking frightened and sad. “You guys shouldn’t argue, you are brothers.” Seph and Forrest stopped and looked surprisingly at her as if they did not expect her to appear. Well if you didn’t want that to happen, why do it at my door.

After a moment, Seph smiled and hugged her tightly. Choice smiled and accepted the hug even though she wanted to push him far away from her.

“Sister, don’t be scared. I was just having a friendly talk with Forrest,” he said then mumbled “Although, I could never be friends with a bastard.” Honestly, same. Seph finally released her but held her shoulders.

“I hope we didn’t wake you up. I didn’t mean to,” he said pouting in a way to make her feel some sympathy for him. Choice understood why he often used this expression to get away with things. Seph was a very handsome person with blond hair, blue eyes and fair skin. He looked a lot like a blond version of her father.

However, she did not like her father very much.

It looked like Forrest had gotten tired of this spectacle as he took Seph’s hands off her shoulders. “Neither did I. I actually had something important to tell you. So…” He side-eyed Seph as he said this.

“I also have something important to tell my sister. It’s from father. You were taking too long so he sent me instead.”

“I was the original messenger so I won’t leave until I hand over my message.”

And there they went again. Since Choice had come back from Aunt Bas’ around a year ago, this had been one more common thing they argued about. See, Seph and Forrest were the same age. Eighteen. A year younger than her. And they had gotten used to fighting over the things they wanted. A courtyard, a Kariot, a book, a teacher, a woman. And now her. She was now one of the things they fought about. Who was the more liked brother. It made her sick.

“What was the message from father,” she said cutting through the squabbling nonsense. Seph and Forrest looked at one another and then at her.

“Father wants you to see him at the shadow room in around an hour’s time, he says he has something important to tell you,” Seph and Forrest said at the same time then glared at each other. ‘Childish,’ she thought, ‘They don’t even try to hide their antagonism. How can they think about being King.’

“Of course,” she replied, ignoring the fight that was about to happen. Even she had her limits, “I’ll go respond to the King’s request. After I have a bath.” She walked briskly to her designated washing area. Gosh, even father’s awake. I thought he was with one of his courtiers yesterday night. Was the sex that bad that he has to take it out on me? What’s going on today.

Frankly, Choice was surprised her father was calling for her. The last time she saw him was around a year ago when she had returned from her aunt’s place and he had nodded at her for half a minute. He was either working really hard at being King or fucking really hard with the wrong people. Although, as King, who can say the person he chose was a wrong person.

Choice quickly finished cleansing herself and dressed up quickly in something comfortable but opulent. One of the perks of being a princess was having access to beautiful things that fitted her. Cotton was fucking expensive.

She walked until she found herself in front of a door that she knew would take her to the throne room. Usually, she would peek in and admire the throne. But not today, she thought and walked towards the left. There was a room behind the throne and the entrance wasn’t a very obvious one. She walked looking at the wall until she saw a place that had a slightly different colour from the rest of the wall. Ah ha.

She pushed in the spot and just like magic, a door appeared. Choice took in a deep breath. From here on, she had to be a perfect, proper, upper class woman. If you did something often enough and well enough, no one would ever think you were different.

She entered the door and there was her father. He looked as if he hadn’t aged a day although she couldn’t really remember how her father had looked when she was younger. She had rarely seen him. She bet he put in lots of effort to hide his wrinkles and crow feet. He was after all fifty four and only mages considered that age to be young. The King was young after all.

Choice curtseyed as low as she could. This could rank among the top three curtseys she had ever pulled in her life. Only the best for the King after all.

Her father smiled at her sign of respect. Flattery could get you anywhere.

“Come closer Choice, let’s have this old man take a look at you.”

“Old? Father, you most definitely are not aged. My, you look as young as you did when I was seven. You must truly be blessed by the heavens and so should the Kingdom as well as I, your sole female offspring.” Translation: whatever you’re doing to keep yourself looking like you do is good for the Kingdom. Also, I’m your only daughter so treat me as well as you do your skin. The King didn’t respond to the hidden meaning in her speech and Sera worried that he hadn’t been able to understand what she really meant.  God knows how long it took for her to learn to compose something like that on the fly and she hadn’t even been trying. Perpetual really was hell.

“Yes yes, we are all blessed,” he replied quite pleased at her compliment, “Okay, enough of that. I called you here for an important reason.” He paused waiting for her to make a comment. Choice stayed silent. She felt that if she said anything, her father would make a decision that would not benefit her. Patience, like her mother told her, was the most important attribute. Wait long enough and your enemies will fall before you.

Her calmness must have assured her father because he smiled. “Your birthday is in three days, isn’t it. Your nineteenth?” Choice nodded. “Age nineteen is the end of adolescence and beginning of adulthood for noble women.”

“Yes, father.”

“Ah, I’m glad you understand. So get prepared.”

“Prepared for what, father.”

“You are my only daughter so you deserve to have your choice of husband.” Husband? I can choose? How modern father. “At your celebration, you can choose who from the young gentlemen there you will get engaged to in two years. Although I hear the Colburn boy is a good lad.”

“I can choose...from the young men at the celebration?”

“Also,” her father continued ignoring her comment, “Your elder brother Cedric will be there on the day of your celebration.” Motherfucker.

---

After her father had told her that she was going to choose who she would get married to at her nineteenth birthday, Choice wandered around the palace. It was only the years of learning control at her aunt’s and at the finishing school that prevented her from exploding at her father in fury. How dare he, how dare he. How dare he tell her what to do with herself. How dare he tell her that she had a right to choose who to marry and tell her who to marry anyway. Choice had nothing against marriages. In theory. But all the marriages she’d witnessed had been a punishment on both parties.

Choice looked up. It looked like in her anger and frustration, she had come in front of her mother’s side of the palace. Ah, her mother. Sera’s relationship with her mother was...complicated. When she was younger, she had adored her mother unquestionably. Her mother was her hero. Even then though, she had been odd with her. Sometimes she would be very close with her and other times she would be very cold. Like the issue with green eyes.

Choice turned her thoughts away from that of her first crush. Ever since her mother had told her she had imagined being saved by a mage with green eyes as a child, she had tried not to remember the incident when she was almost killed at seven.

Now though Choice rarely spoke to her mother. Ever since she had sent her to Aunt Bas’ and given her what she considered to be the most important piece of advice, she had rarely spoken to her. Even now that she had returned back to the palace, her mother barely spoke to her. Instead her mother spent more time with her younger brother, Cero. ‘That’s because he is able to be King,’ she thought cynically.

Finally Choice reached her mother’s room and quietly knocked on her mother’s door. “Can I come in mama,” she called.

“Enter,” she heard a gentle yet steely voice say. She pushed open the door and saw her mother sitting at her table. She had two attendants brushing her waist long hair. Her mother was the genuine youthful looking person. Her skin was what her father aspired to have. Even though, she was a year younger than her father, she looked like she was in her mid forties. Her mother looked at her and smiled.

“You may leave us,” the Queen said to her maids without looking at them. “Come here, my dear. Help your mother brush her hair.” Sera pointed her brush at her daughter. Choice took it and used it to brush out the kinks in her mum’s hair. It reminded her of when she was much younger and loved touching her mother’s hair. She was the only person in the palace that had a similar skin and hair to hers and that always made Choice enthralled with her hair. Even Cero had a lighter skin tone and brown hair.

Choice cleared her throat. “I just spoke to father,” she said softly. Her mother hmmed and waited for her to finish her statement. “He wants me to choose a suitor at my celebration in three days. He prefers the Colburn son.”

“I thought so. They are very rich and well the royal family always needs money,” Sera said smiling.

“It’s not funny, mama,” Choice said raising her voice in irritation. “It’s not funny. It’s very unfair. I’m not an object in a market.”

“Careful now Choice,” her mother snapped, smile dropping from her face. “One would think that the finishing school didn’t really teach you manners.”

Choice grimaced and took a deep breath. “I apologise my Queen. I don’t know what came over me.” A pause.

“It is unfair,” her mother continued, “It is but you aren’t her just to complain about your father’s decisions, are you.”

“No, not really. I wanted to ask for your help.”

“My help?”

“Yes, you are the Queen. You can do something. Maybe talk to father?” Choice’s mother interrupted her with a deep laugh. It wasn’t very pleasant to here. Choice felt like her mother was mocking her.

“Do something? Talk to your father? You aren’t stupid enough to think that I actually had any influence over your father now, do you?” Choice didn’t respond to her mother. She had idolised her for so long that it was really difficult to realise that there were many things her mother couldn’t do.

“Your father is the King. If he has made a decision, then you should consider yourself loved and blessed by the attention he pays to you,” he mother said mockingly, “Isn’t that what they teach at Perpetual? That it is your good regard if your authoritarian figure, always a man, makes decisions about your life.” Choice clenched her teeth. She didn’t really like it when people who had never gone to that school talked to her about Perpetual.

“I can’t do anything, my darling. Your father is the King. I am not and I have no power. Maybe when your brother is King things can change but until then…” Choice glared at her mother.

“What happened to you? You used to be...better. More heroic. You had more life than this. You never took my father’s shit. I never saw you guys arguing but everyone knew that you were a match for him.”

“Choice, I’ve been married to your father for twenty eight years. I know what kind of person he is. And I know what I can do. I can only focus all my power on one person. And Choice, I’m sorry but I should have told you this when you were a child- you will never be King.”

Choice put her mother’s brush back on her table and curtseyed to her. “Well then I apologise for disturbing you, my Queen. I’ll back to my room and prepare for my birthday.”

“You do that. Also, call those maids back as you leave. You are horrible at brushing hair.” Choice did not respond to her mother. She didn’t want to get into a shouting match with her and frankly she had a lot to think about. You can’t do anything for me. I can’t be King. Oh mother. You just watch me. You just watch me ascend the throne and get that crown.

She was definitely going to be King.