They'd thought my mother was barren, and so the King ordered for her to be placed far, far away from him. He took in dozens of concubines at the request of his council. He had morning walks with the slave girls of war and nightly rendezvous with errand boys to quench his never-ending lust.

Lust my mother never satiated.

He left her untouched for three weeks until the royal advisor convinced him to try once more. And he did. He visited her rundown palace one night and ravaged her until she can no longer move a muscle. He did not have much hope for her because he firmly believed she was infertile.

But then, as if the heavens took pity on her, she got pregnant.

The king was overjoyed and held banquets to honour my mother and her child. She finally thought that it was finally time for her to be happy with the man she so loved. And it made her ecstatic. He presented her with material things — jewellery, gowns and dresses, diamonds and pearls — he thought would satisfy her. But mother was never a materialistic person, for the very thing she sought for was the King’s love.

My father’s love.

Love that was directed to a favourite errand boy he found working in the palace stables. The very boy he’d sleep with. Yes, my father was a sodomite. A being that was heavily frowned upon in the kingdom — by the people, by the temple and by our Goddess — and will be sentenced to death by burning and stoning if anyone found out.

And my mother knew. But like a foolish young girl who yearned for her love's attention, she said nothing and wallowed in the pain as she watched him embrace someone else. 

My mother was there for show, she knew better than anyone else why he had kept her by his side—she was of noble blood and was part of the most powerful family the King needed backing and support from. He was nice to her and cared for her since she was carrying his child. But when my mother gave birth to me, a female, he snatched me away from her arms and handed me to the wet nurse. With not so much as a glance, he ordered for my immediate execution.

Female first borns are frowned upon in his Empire as it was believed that they would grow up to be witches—the demon’s children. But my mother pleaded that he spare me and threatened the king to remove her family’s support if he continued on with the execution.

And so he granted me my only mercy.

On one condition, to hide me away from the general public, locked up in a single mansion. The wet nurse was compensated with money to keep the secret.

Not long after they had me, my father threw her away once again and went back into the arms of his lover. He was aware that he needed an heir and that his lover cannot bestow him with such a thing because he was not a woman. So he tried again with my mother. 

I am four when my mother gave birth to my younger brother, the crown prince. 

The moment my father heard of the boy, he bestowed him the name of Cedrin and tried to take him away from my mother to hand over to his lover. But mother fought and threatened him again with her family name. The King gave in and allowed her to raise the heir of his throne. She knew that she was never going win his affections.

We were the only ones she has in the palace. 

He visits our palace once a month to bring mountains of gifts to my younger brother. He doted on Cedrin and scorned me. But my mother gave us an equal amount of love and it never felt unfair at all. I loved my younger brother because that's what mother taught me from the very beginning.

Today he is here again, but this time with his lover in tow. I look out from the attic window where the maids lock me during my father's visits.  They walk side by side with smiles on their faces as their shoulders rub against each other. The atmosphere is painted in a suffocating pink as they neared our door. The knights in their shiny iron armours follow them closely from behind, each step making a clunking sound that resonated in our silent mansion. I peer down and frown as they stop in front of the door, eyes ogling as if they hadn't seen each other in years. I roll my eyes and as my father talked to the butler of the mansion, his lover turns his head toward my direction. It went by so fast, I didn't notice that we'd locked eyes. He stares at me, and the ends of his lips curl up into a smile. 

A cold shiver spreads in my body as I watch both of them walk in. 

I wait in my attic room like I always do, waiting until the maids call for me to come down. Usually, my father would've been out and gone from the mansion because he hated being here. But he was taking especially longer today. So, I lay on the bed my mother ordered the butler to buy, and read the books that were bought for me to read. 

But then, knock knock knock, the door swings open and the first thing I see is my mother's worried face. My brother is behind her, grabbing her skirt and he's looking at me with concern. I look in front of me and the King graced me his presence. He looks at me with cold, narrowed eyes as if he were looking down on me. Of course he would. His lover stands beside him, a smile on his face as he looks at me with adoration.

I didn't like that attention. His eyes on me felt as though dozens of centipedes crawled all over me. It was a disgusting feeling.  

"You have seen her enough, you can leave now." My mother says as she places a shaking hand on my brother's shoulder. But the king clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

"You should be glad you are alive, girl." 

My hands feel empty without my book. I watch as my own father spares me a last glance before turning his back and walking out of the attic room. His lover smiles at me and follows my father. Cedrin runs inside when they disappear into the corridor.

"Sister!" he screams and embraces me, rubbing his head on my stomach as he repeats the words 'I was scared' over and over again. 

I was too, but I collect myself and caress my younger brother's back as a form of reassurance. 

Aside from this, I remember only fun memories while living in the mansion with my mother and Cedrin: my mother's singing, the bear my mother used to sleep with as a child, my brother and I on the rooftop, watching the sky side by side.

In my last memory, Cedrin and I climb out of the attic window onto the roof where we lie beside each other. It was a dangerous thing to do, especially for two young children like us. One misstep and both of us could fall to our deaths. However, my brother seemed to like watching the sky, whether it be in the late afternoon when he's not in heir classes. Or in the evening, when he would cunningly slip into my bedroom and wake me up in the middle of the night with the poor excuse of having a nightmare. We make a nest with our blankets and lie there, hugging the pillows we brought up while looking up the stars. I talk to him about the constellations I read about in one of the books mother bought me. It was a memory that I cherished about me and my brother. 

Before I knew it, so much things had changed.