The Forsaken Crown

The wedding arrangements were nearly finalized. Every thread of the alliance between Evirthnia and Ilyrria had been woven with the precision of a tapestry meant to last through generations. My marriage to Prince Darius would seal a peace that had cost too much already—lives, kingdoms, and the hearts of those who had survived the war.

The church had blessed it, and the high-ranking nobles had sung its praises. It was the perfect union, they all claimed. A symbol of unity, of hope. But to me, it was a gilded shackle.

I listened as the advisors spoke of the upcoming ceremony—the venue, the flowers, the procession. I felt like a ghost in the room, unseen and unheard, while they decided my fate. My mother's voice was calm, measured, as she discussed the details with the clergy. My father's tone was firm as he assured the council that this alliance would fortify the realm. And Prince Darius? He was absent from the discussions, as though his role in all this mattered as little as my own.

But I would not let them bind me so easily.

The opportunity came during a private council meeting, one that included my parents, the High Advisor, and a few trusted nobles. I sat at the far end of the table, my hands folded neatly, my expression serene. I had rehearsed this moment in my mind a hundred times.

"With respect, Your Majesties," I began, my voice steady, "I believe there is another way to secure this alliance."

The room fell silent. My father's brow furrowed, my mother's lips pressed into a thin line. The High Advisor tilted his head, intrigued.

"Another way?" my father echoed, his tone laced with skepticism. "And what might that be, Ophelia?"

I took a breath, meeting his gaze. "My brother, Octavian, is of age now. He is strong, capable, and respected. Why not propose that he marry Princess Delilah of Ilyrria? Their union would be equally binding and perhaps even more favorable, as it would allow for closer ties between our ruling houses."

The council erupted into murmurs. My father's expression darkened, but the High Advisor leaned forward, his fingers steepled. "An interesting proposal," he said. "Prince Octavian and Crowned Princess Delilah… It could indeed strengthen the alliance."

"This is absurd," my father snapped. "Octavian is young and untested. The responsibility of this union falls to you, Ophelia. It is your duty."

"I am aware of my duty," I replied, my voice calm but unyielding. "But I believe this alternative would serve the kingdom just as well."

My mother's gaze pierced through me. "And what of you, Ophelia? Are you suggesting you remain unwed while your brother takes on this responsibility?"

I had anticipated this question. I had prepared my answer.

"Not at all," I said smoothly. "I propose that I marry Lucien Belialus."

The room descended into stunned silence.

"Lucien?" my father finally said, his voice low and dangerous. "A minor noble from Ovkosnia? Are you out of your mind?"

"Lucien is not merely a noble," I countered. "He is beloved by the people, respected across the realm. His influence among the merchant class and common folk could prove invaluable. Furthermore, his ties to Ovkosnia—a neutral party during the war—would allow us to strengthen our relationships beyond Evirthnia and Ilyrria."

The High Advisor's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "The girl makes a point," he said. "Lucien Belialus has garnered quite the reputation over the years. His popularity could serve as a unifying force."

"This is ridiculous," my father barked, slamming his hand on the table. "You would trade a royal alliance for… for him?"

"I would trade a loveless marriage for one that could strengthen not just our kingdom but our people," I replied, my voice unwavering. "Lucien understands the common folk in a way none of us do. He could bridge the gap between the crown and the people."

My mother's expression remained unreadable, but her eyes softened just enough for me to notice. "You've thought this through," she said quietly. "But does Lucien even wish to marry you?"

The question struck a nerve, but I didn't let it show. "He is loyal to this kingdom," I said. "And I believe he would see the wisdom in such an arrangement."

"Wisdom or manipulation?" my father shot back.

I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze head-on. "Both, if necessary."

The council deliberated for hours, their voices rising and falling in heated debate. I remained silent, my expression calm, though my heart pounded in my chest. This was chance and my attempt to reclaim some semblance of control over my life. Whether it would succeed or fail, I couldn't say. But I knew I had to try.

When the meeting finally adjourned, my father rose, his face a mask of restrained fury. "We will discuss this further," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the council filed out, my mother lingered, her hand brushing my shoulder. "Be careful, Ophelia," she murmured. "You play a dangerous game."

"I know," I replied softly. "But it's a game I must win."

That night, the weight of my choice settled over me. I had made my move, but the board was still in play. And in the distance, beyond the palace walls, I wondered if Lucien had any idea of the role I had just cast him into.

The stars above seemed to shimmer with quiet judgment, and for the first time in years, I felt the faint stirrings of hope. Perhaps this gamble would save me. Or perhaps it would destroy us all.