Never had I sat in a seat so crowded with cushions, yet so uncomfortable. So pompous yet so exquisite, so imbued with memories I didn't wish to have swarming about me. A seat so foreign yet meant for me; a seat I was never sure I wanted.

As I fidgeted, watching the movement of those below the dais, I gritted my teeth. Every few minutes, flashes of my past rushed through me. Visions of sneaking into the throne-room during large gatherings I wasn't invited to. Echoes of my laughter when hiding from Father and his constituents. Tremors of my running off when in trouble.

I no longer laughed, but I was still in trouble.

Not the same little girl who had no notion of what awaited her. Innocent and pure, seeking to have fun. Curious about her royal title and what it'd mean when I grew up.

I was the adult version. The one who didn't want to be here; who'd rather run off like I did as a child.

I was put on the spot, given a rank and role I once yearned for...but now feared.

Queen of Acewood. An entire continent under my rule.

I still couldn't believe my two once greedy-for-power sisters had agreed on it. Agreed on me. Yes, it was my title by right, but...I'd been away for so long. Been out of the Acewood scene for so long.

Who was to say I'd live up to Father's reputation? The one he'd built before he surrounded himself with lies, that was.

The stained windows on either side of me sent heart and diamond shaped patterns onto my bare arms, clubs and spades to dance over my too-tight bodice. The mirror-like ceiling reflected the jewels worn by the noblewomen lined up, their intrigued husbands at their sides.

Shuffling noises came from the waves of flustered faces focused on me, mixes of emotions in their bewildered eyes and slack mouths.

My constituents. Folk who responded to Father, and who'd been living under the Ace's rule since his death. Folk who'd surely waited for this day for a long time.

For a true descendent of King Hendry to take the throne.

And they were all assembled to hear my first public announcement.

All gathered to see...me.

"I am Gwenore, eldest daughter of King Hendry, and your new queen," I said as I sat up straight, hands clasped in my lap. "You have been without a real ruler for too long. We had planned for proper elections, but my eligible sisters chose me."

Not a peep broke free from my audience. Not a single reaction, not a nod in my favor or a shake of their heads in disagreement.

Met with such neutrality, I worried about the rest of my speech; the distasteful knowledge I had to share if I wanted their trust.

Sir Sym stood to my right, solemn as ever, draped in his canary-colored silks, his sleek hair braided. He'd warned me the people of Efura weren't happy, still reeling from the effects of my father's decisions, of the rebellions two years prior. He'd warned me that telling them all about the underbelly of the deception—Otho, Luned, Jack—would only worsen their sentiments towards the crown.

But I would not keep secrets like Father had. I would not lie.

"I'm aware you're all wary of royalty nowadays. My father, though kind-hearted, wasn't the most up-front of monarchs. He did things that angered his advisors, his staff...and his daughters."

The disgruntled daughters in question were here, too. I'd asked them to sit atop the dais with me, on smaller thrones flanking mine. Not official advisors, but members of the royal family, siblings to the heir.

Astrida was resplendent in her diamond-decorated gown, her crimson curls in a bushy chignon. She didn't flinch, didn't show an ounce of emotion, cold as the snowy palace she once lived in. I knew her; deep down she was paralyzed, eager to escape to her room and remove all her thick layers of clothing.

On my other side was Tilda in radiant red, twitching with impatience as most girls of roughly nineteen did. Unlike Astrida, she thrived in social settings. But I sensed from her that today, she wasn't in the mood. She yearned to get on with it, return to the comforts of her room to continue playing with lipsticks and designing outrageous dresses.

Not that I blamed her—I would have preferred to be elsewhere, myself. Far from court, in my riding gear, atop a horse cruising through the Acewood Meadows, on to explore continents unknown.

But my place was at Acewood Castle.

"Two years ago, when King Hendry revealed to us his plans to set up smaller, separate kingdoms, and make us, the princesses, queens in our own right...I worried."

The crowd remained silent, absorbing my truth.

My fingers tightened. "Then he declared that one knave would accompany each of us to our new homes, which would split the knave-hood. That prompted more concern on my part." I bit my tongue, regretting my decision to reveal what Father's impulsiveness had done. The bloodshed it had caused. "The knaves were behind the uprisings, but their behavior was induced by Father."

Finally, the sea of attendees responded—they gasped, gaped at one another, whispered, stomped.

Though many had jumped on board during the rebellion, few were aware of the true root of the problem. Few were aware the knaves were the ones that instigated it all in their fury at being separated.

"The knave-hood is a sacred brotherhood that no King of Efura has ever dared to sever," someone once told me.

I had reminded Father of such intelligence, but he swore there would be no real disconnect. Only a physical separation that wouldn't affect their bond.

But the proposition did affect them. Led by the riled-up Jack, the knaves went berserk, slaughtering random people in the name of King Hendry, accusing him of chaos and unease in our streets. They brought on death and despair that ultimately led to Father's demise, but Father provoked them first.

I peered farther to my left, where the ever-elegant Lady Ossenna planted herself. Her gown of purple and navy and pink sprinkled with stars gave the impression that the galaxy itself wrapped around her figure. She hadn't been opposed to divulging the truth to the people, but there was a hesitation to her usually smooth demeanor that disturbed me.

Perhaps it had to do with the other piece of information she offered me this morning.

"There is a legend that one in four royal advisor-mages will betray their monarch, overthrow them for power."

Why hadn't anyone told me sooner? Or told Father? Though she assured me King Hendry did know the legend, as all monarchs did, I doubted her, doubted my staff, doubted myself.

At the sight of my stillness and scrunched features, Lady Ossenna had promised me it was naught but a rumor. Viperous gossip gyrating down through the generations to ensure kings and queens remained on their guard. But there was truth in every rumor; and one of our royal advisor-mages had betrayed us.

Would he attempt to rob me of my inheritance?

"Enough!" Ysac, in his new guard garb, banged the bottom of his spear against the floor, his golden locks of hair flapping against his back. "Your queen is not done speaking!"

Ysac was hauled into the theatrics because of the goodness of his heart, but he wasn't all innocence and purity. He was close to Father and received all his confessions. He knew much more than he'd ever let on.

I grew up with Ysac, once considered him a friend, a brother. But to know my father shared more with him than with anyone else at court unsettled me. I wanted to confess that to my constituents, too, but Sir Sym and Lady Ossenna admitted that was a bad idea.

"Ysac is the light at court. To tell them such things about him would bring down the mood even more," Lady Ossenna had said. Sir Sym agreed.

Ysac would still receive punishment for his role—no matter how involuntary—in due time. To out him and his errors now, to denounce him as a person deeply involved with Father's lies and tied to the culprits who fled would put his life in peril.

So I gave him a twisted type of promotion, in the meantime: I made him a soldier, a bodyguard. A true fighter, as Father trained him to be.

Once the gallery settled, my onyx and emerald bracelet jangled around my wrist as I shook my arms to recover from the commotion. "I tried to dissuade King Hendry from carrying out such plans. Or at least to have a vote amongst the highest-ranking royals. I also reminded him of the severity of his actions. That there would be consequences. That such sudden decisions would displease the Aces, whose territories he planned to gift to myself and my siblings."

I glanced at Sir Sym, then at Lady Ossenna, fighting a grimace.

I wished I'd been more persistent with Father. But how could I have known one of these magical beings that I distrusted so much would be a downright traitor?

The Aces were irritated at their displacement, at their forced return to Acewood. It was that irritation that terrified me. That vague unhappiness about them that obliged me to close up Club Fields and ban all magic from ever slipping over its boundaries. To block Sir Sym's restorative powers, to protect myself.

Now I had to believe these angered Aces would save me from harm at all costs.

"To our luck, after all this madness, only one of the Aces has gone rogue: Sir Otho. Along with my sister, Luned, and the rebel knave Jack."

"Queen Luned?" someone muttered.

"Not a queen anymore, clearly," someone replied.

"Knave Jack has betrayed the crown again?"

The disruption forced me to raise my voice, to strain against my aching throat. "Yes, they have unofficially declared war against us. To establish our continued security, I have named Sir Sym and Lady Ossenna as my advisors." I gulped, a twinge of hypocrisy gnawing at my insides. "They will serve me as they served King Hendry."

A chorus of confused comments crept from the audience, but I took them in stride. This was my decision and I'd stick to it.

Prince Teodric, at the bottom of the dais, waved at everyone to be quiet. He looked regal and proud in his brand-new princely suit, but I knew better.

He was terrified. He'd stayed in Acewood for Ysac, when he could have returned to his realm.

Love was a fickle thing, I thought. But still, my heart filled with warmth at the vision of them. So hopelessly in love and without concern for their futures. They didn't see menaces like I did, and in a sense, that was for the best. Someone in our kingdom needed to be positive, to keep the faith that everything would resolve in time.

"On another note, we will begin the search for a new Ace of Spade Island, also, since Arden is gone."

This time I heard muffled screams. A few ladies crumbling; a man or two tossing their hats to the ground.

Arden was the most mysterious and mystique of all advisors, but they had admirers among Efurans. Arden protected the realm more than anyone ever knew; or so, I thought.

"We only have two Aces?" one man cried.

"Do you consider us protected, Majesty?" bellowed out a young woman in the front row.

I stood, lifting my arms, demanding silence. My cream gown whooshed out all around me, like delicate petals from a blooming rose. "I consider us in transition," I said, trying not to wince. "And until we replenish our ranks, it may seem like we're not safe. But Sir Sym and Lady Ossenna have guaranteed that no foes will dare attack us yet. We have some time." I took a deep inhale, bracing for the final proclamation; the one I dreaded the most. "Before I can embrace my new role, there will be a coronation ceremony. It will take place during a ball held in our ballroom, to officialize me."

The murmurs in the crowd changed. No longer angry grunts and clipped complaints, but joy. How quickly these folk forgot about the dire news when the word ball was uttered.

Excitement erupted from ladies who clapped and cheered, keen to slip into their frilly evening gowns and drink and dance and gossip. Pleasure emanated from men who sought any occasion to escape their mundane chores and a reason to ogle the pretty ladies while mingling with friends.

I hated it. All of it. Balls, dancing, dresses. The drinking I'd enjoy, but the rest?

I tried not to sneer.

When Sir Sym and Lady Ossenna proposed the party idea this morning, I nearly coughed up my breakfast. It was one of the reasons my throat hurt so much now. I despised frivolities and excess and gooey pastries. And more so the flocks of ridiculous outfits and the scandals always associated with such social events.

"It would show your people you're serious, Majesty," Sir Sym said, his cat-like eyes glimmering gold, his soft hands clasping mine.

"And it would allow us to scour the population for new Aces of Hartland and Spade Island, Majesty," Lady Ossenna added, her mouth painted in a luxurious purple that had me thinking of grape jelly.

They were correct. We had to keep up appearances, enroll more allies to our cause. And though we couldn't hire a new Hartland Ace unless Otho died, we could enlist the other one.

The most powerful one.

"The abilities that come with the cloak and the veil are the strongest," Father once mentioned to me.

My priority had to be locating a new Arden—the Ace that frightened me the most.

"Invitations will be sent out soon. We will grant a few lucky commoners and lower-bred nobles the chance to be guests, to represent all of Efura during our celebrations. And we will permit a small allowance for proper festivity attire, included with the invitations."

It was generous. The main planner of the event—Tilda, who else?—had insisted all attendees dress to impress. To my dismay, Lady Ossenna backed this claim, saying everyone in partial disguise would give her and Sir Sym an excuse to use their magic to scan all who showed up. To read their allegiances, test their loyalties, and recruit new associates.

Disguise. How I abhorred the word. Someone had once posed as my father to tell me the throne was mine—someone with ill intent and a thirst for stealing crowns.

Who was I to trust? How could I know all these people weren't hiding under masks? Under clothes that weren't theirs? Speaking in tones that they didn't customarily speak?

As I returned to my chair, I gave a quick nod at Ysac and Teodric.

I was done. The suffocation, the expectations, the non-stop gazes leaving me no room for the simplest of errors...

I needed a break.

One day on my father's throne and I was already crumbling.

♥♦♣♠