Of all creatures in the Kingdom, it was the Waterfolk who were most feared.
Though they were the only ones who had no interest in the war of the Landfolk. The Sirens and Mer kept to themselves in their oceans. Except for when a ship strayed too far. Or if a creature got too close to the coast.

The Sirens would enchant sailors from their boats with their singing. None could escape the pull of a Siren's voice. Sailors would throw themselves into raging waters just to hear the voices more. Some would jump from cliffs just to follow their song. Once in the water, the Sirens would feed on them. Their voices commanded their prey to give themselves to them freely. The Sirens would suck the life from them.

The Mer would also enchant sailors to their deaths. Not with their voices, but with their beauty.
Like the Sirens, Sailors would jump straight into their open arms. The Mer would then feed on their blood.

None could escape the pull of either creature. Even women would fall victim to the songs of a Siren and the beauty of a Mer. The Waterfolk did not discriminate on which creature or gender they hunted. Though they enjoyed the hunt, they didn't do it purely for fun. They did it for their survival. So they were never hungry.

Out of anger, the Landfolk hunted them.

They would wear little devices in their ears to block out the songs of the Siren and darkened glass around their eyes to block out some of the beauty of the Mer. Then, they would snatch them from the sea and sell them. The sirens would have their tongues cut from their mouths and then their lips sewn shut. The Mer would have an eye removed. Blocking their enchanting magic.

Then, they were sold as pets.

So the Waterfolk joined the First War. They infested lakes, coves and rivers. They slaughtered thousands of unsuspecting creatures. This time it wasn't for sustenance. It was for revenge.

They killed more people for revenge than they would have killed had they been left alone.

-The History of the Great War of Vivelle. Volume One, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Verse Sixteen.

The dress is beautiful. It was sent up to my room not long after I got back to it. My lady in waiting, Juliet, brings it in proudly. My father chose well. It will show off my "wide hips" nicely. It is supposed that women with wider hips are better at giving birth to children and are seen as a sign of being fertile. Seeing as the only responsibility I or my sisters will have is to carry and birth a male heir, this is seen as pretty important. It is also the body types that are preferred of women.

I have one of these bodies. My stomach is flat and toned. My legs are also toned and long. My behind is perky as are my breasts. I also have soft, smooth skin. At least, that is the polite version of what I have heard some of the young soldiers say whilst talking about me when they thought I haven't been there to hear. My father has given me a dress which elegantly emphasises all my curves. I hate him, but he knows how to dress us in ways that make us look desirable and classy.

I look very much like my father. I have his pale cream skin and share his sharp facial features. The cheekbones and jawline. Also, like him, I have black hair.  However, he has his neat and short whilst mine falls down my back in soft waves. My lips are full and soft. A feature I share with my mother. Along with a button nose and thick lashes which surround my eyes.

There is something about me which is very unique, however. I have different coloured eyes. My right eye is a warm, dark brown. The other eye is a bright, shining blue. Like the colour of the sky. It is very striking and no one knows why I was born with it.

"It is time to get you ready, your majesty," Juliet says. I sigh and turn to her. Juliet is the same age as me. We are both twenty-two. She is pretty with soft blonde hair that has been tied into a smart bun. She has large, doll-like blue eyes and thin lips.

"Okay," I say sitting down on the stool in front of my dressing table. Juliet begins to run a brush through my hair. She is gentle as she brushes and styles the thick black locks. She delicately pulls all my hair into a loose, elegant bun at the back of my head. She leaves a few strands hanging in front of my face then places my tiara on. It is beautiful. Made out swirling silver metal and encrusted with sparkling diamonds, it sits on my head perfectly.

Once my hair is done, she then works on my makeup. My eyes are lined with simple black strokes around the lid with smooth wings flicking away. My lips are painted a ruby red shade. It matches the dress. Juliet helps me get into it and as I stand and look at my reflection in the mirror, I can't help but admire how it looks on me. The dark red material is tight around my torso.  The neckline is sweetheart and shows off a little bit of my breasts. Red straps sit off the shoulder too. The material falls tightly over my hips and follows the line of my thighs before falling to the ground smoothly, leaving behind a small train.

"You look beautiful, Princess," Juliet says. I smile softly at her reflection in the mirror. 

"Thank you, Juliet," I tell her as I turn away from the mirror to directly face her. She smiles brightly and bows to me. My father dresses us in ways to make us most desirable to the best suitors. To make us look beautiful. He doesn't realise that beauty can be used as a weapon. Especially in our society where women are regarded as prizes or delicate little dolls for them to play with.

There is a knock on my door.

"Come," I say. The door squeaks open and Rayana walks in. She is the fourth child at the age of nineteen.  There are five of us in total. I am the eldest at Twenty-two. Fallon came after me. She is twenty-one now. Then it was Cordelia, who is twenty. Then Rayana and finally Shaelyn who has just reached womanhood at the age of eighteen.

In his desperate attempt for a boy, my father got my mother pregnant as soon as he could after she gave birth to each girl. It is rumoured that he gave her things to make her fertile in less than a week after she had birthed. He never let her heal and pregnancy is very dangerous and damaging for a woman. She died. Giving birth to my father's precious son. At twenty-three weeks into the pregnancy, she gave birth to my brother. He was born too early and died not long after he was born. The complications of the birth proved too much for my mother to handle, so she died a few hours before her son.

Of course, I was not old enough to remember all of this. It is what I have heard from the older staff and some of the lords who like to spread rumours and gossip about the king. It has also been known to happen in a few other families as well. Especially with every birth of a royal daughter and the higher possibility of a Queen's trial. Every family wants a son so that he can be the King.

"Illyana," Rayana says, snapping me out of my thoughts. Rayana looks beautiful. She has a slight olive tone to her light skin. Long, soft brown hair falls perfectly straight down to her hips, the warm shade almost glowing in the firelight of my room. Her large eyes are dark brown. They are the sort of deep shade that you look into and can get lost in forever. They are only made more mysterious by the dramatic shades of smokey blacks that had been painted around them. She has a round face with slightly visible cheekbones that have been made more prominent by the shading that her lady in waiting has painted over them. Her full, pink lips have a slight sparkle to them. It is clear that her makeup wants people to look at her eyes instead of her lips. Unlike my makeup where my lips are the most striking feature.

She is nearly the same height as me, the top of her head coming up to my eyes. I am fairly tall. Her body shape is similar to mine also and she wears a dress that certainly shows it. It is black, like the makeup around her eyes. It has long sleeves and a dramatic neckline which stops midway down her sternum. There is thin black lace that covers the skin there, however. The torso and sleeves of the dress are embroidered with sparkling black diamonds which have been shaped into elegant patterns. It clings to her figure, only beginning to slightly stray from her skin at the knees where it falls into an elegant glittering train.

She looks spectacular and dramatic. She will turn many heads tonight.

"You look beautiful." She chuckles and does a little spin, the black dress glittering in the different angles. She stops and gives me a serious look and the mood quickly changes. Juliet makes her way out of the room, knowing that Rayana wants a private word.

"What did father say?" she asks.

"Nothing much," I reply with a shrug as I make my way over to my bed and take a seat. She sighs and comes next to me.

"Illyana," she says. "You shouldn't answer back to him," she tells me. "He is the King."

"Well, he shouldn't be," I snap as I shake my head in disgust. "Mother was the born Royal child. He is just the husband." She sighs again.

"It isn't fair Illyana, but that is the way our world works." I glare at her. "The world is cruel," she whispers under her breath. I lean into her. Neither of us speak for a moment. We both know that at the end of the Queen's trial, it will either be one of us or neither of us alive.

"Illyana," she finally says. "Please don't shame our sisters over their choices. There is nothing wrong with wanting to marry and start a family. It is natural." I scoff.

"Yes, becoming a baby factory for ungrateful, arrogant..."

"Yes, I get what you are trying to say," she rolls her eyes. "To them, carrying and being the mother of the next king is a great honour and we are not to shame them for that. Whether we like it or not, it is their choice." I roll my eyes again.

"So if I win the Queen's Trial and am forced to marry whichever one of those cruel pricks my father chooses, where is my choice?" I ask her, standing angrily.

"Illyana!" Rayana scolds.

"What?" I ask back. She shakes her head in annoyance.

"Don't you get it Ana?" she asks, using my shortened name. "The choice isn't about who you get to marry or how you get to decide your future. The choice is to either accept it and try everything within your power to ensure you live as happily as you can. Or be bitter and angry all the time, living in a world of denial where you are nothing but miserable." I don't know what to say for a few moments.

"I can't accept it, Ray," I tell her. "I don't want to become some man's trophy to parade around and pop out babies. I don't want to end up broken like mother." She nods her head and puts her hand delicately on her shoulder.

"You should be more careful when speaking your opinions Ana. There are much worse fates than marrying a King," she warns. "Now, we have a ball to attend." I groan and link my arm with hers as we leave for the ball.