Mismatched

The sirens cut through the crowd's cheers like a blade

the street, alive- engines snarling, neon bleeding into wet asphalt, bodies pressed up tight along the barricades of the parked cars. someone counted down with their fingers, the crowd holding their breath

"THREE"

"TWO"

"ONE........GO!"

My bike surged forward, tires screeching as I tore through the intersections just as the lights flipped red. the cheer of the crowd was short lived as the COP sirens swallowed their praise. red and blue lights blaring not far behind.

COPs? a snitch!

the road ahead bent and curved, and so did I. this wasn't my first race and sure won't be my last, I felt Alive, Alive in a way the Palace never allowed.

commotion broke behind me.

"SCATTER! COPS!"

A police cruiser skidded onto the street ahead. I didn't slow, didn't hit the brakes, instead taking a sharp right into a alley barely wide enough for a bike, sparks kissing the walls as I drove down- That ought to chip the paint off my bike.

Another siren joined the first "dispatch unit 10, cost is clear. street racers. round 'em up and bring 'em down to the station"

My surroundings mixed in a blurry haze, sharp corners, and lights all around faded in and out. I'm so dead when he finds out

I woke up with a raging headache and before I could adjust to the light a coffee mug was slammed onto my window side table and the blinds pulled back

"Rise and shine princess pretend"

there it was, that sarcastic kinda high pitched regal, British voice, I love a despise all in one

"What were you thinking?! street race? on Aarot Street? HAVE YOU LOST IT?! Princess I wont save you perfect arse everytime! All over the national news, 5th time this new year!"

"Eva-" I barely get a word out before- "don't you Evander me missy!" that...

"we'll discuss this once we get back from the conference, get dressed, and have your coffee you need it."

"why even go? each month the call me as a show pony, im the god darn princess for fuck sake-"

"Celest Ambrose, you are the princess, the future of our kingdom is on your hands, just for now deal with patriarchy. now please, chop chop!"

"yes mom!" I snide back but contrary to my displeasure I get ready for the conference.

After three and a half hours of sitting on the sidelines—broadcast live on national television—my back stiff and my neck aching, the conference finally wrapped up.

“Hazza! That’s three hours and thirty minutes wasted” I bite out, walking beside Evander while massaging my neck. “And we didn’t even conclude anything!”

“Come on,” he says lightly. “It wasn’t that bad.”

I side-eye him as he shuffles through his papers.

“If I start listing my complaints, you’ll faint. What’s next?”

“I’d say you’re pretty much free,” he replies. “As long as you stay reachable on palace grounds. And His Majesty would like to meet you for supper.”

“Great,” I mutter. “And schedule a meeting with the councilmen. I’ve got a piece of my mind to give them.”

Evander simply nods as I head to my room. The rest of the day I spend between my bedroom and the study, drafting points and arguments for the council.

“Hey,” Evander says, stepping into the study later.

“Hey. Did the councilmen find time for me,” I ask, “or is Grandpa ready to meet?”

He hesitates. “Sorry, Celest. While you were here, a commotion broke out. The Duke held a meeting for the committee—”

“Um, hello? I’m on the committee,” I snap. “They can’t call meetings without me present!”

“The Duke thought it best you sit this one out,” Evander says carefully. “Next time.”

“I’m going out.”

“What? Where? With who? I didn’t grant you permission—”

“I need peace of mind,” I cut in. “You’ll handle it. I know you will.”

I watch the color drain from his face, but I also know he’s smart enough to manage. I grab my helmet and head out, slipping past the castle guards and down into town—straight to Solan’s place.

“Oh, hey—Nara!” Solan says when I walk in, dressed casually, the TV murmuring in the background. “What a surprise. When I didn’t see you after the race, I got worried.”

“Hey,” I say. “I’m just grabbing my bike and heading out. I’ll see you tonight—if not, then tomorrow. I need to blow off some steam.”

“Yeah, I got you,” she says with a grin. “Drive safe."

The city swallowed me whole the moment I hit the main road.

Streetlights stretched into golden streaks as I picked up speed, the engine’s hum steady beneath me. Neon signs blurred, reflections smearing across my visor until the world felt unreal—like I was riding through a dream that didn’t belong to the crown.

My thoughts spiraled faster than the road.

Three hours. Three and a half, technically. Of men in tailored suits nodding politely while saying nothing. Of smiles that meant dismissal. Of my words—carefully prepared, backed by reason and data—set aside like decorative noise.

Too emotional.

Too young.

Too female.

I clenched my jaw.

They spoke of the kingdom like it wasn’t already resting on my shoulders. Like I wasn’t the one who would inherit the mess they kept making. I was their future queen, for god’s sake—and still, they looked past me, talked over me, decided for me.

The throttle twisted harder under my grip.

The wind tore at my jacket, cool and sharp, grounding me. Out here, no one asked me to sit quietly. No one muted my voice. The road listened. The city moved when I did.

I barely noticed the intersection until it was too late.

Headlights flared from the side—another bike, moving fast, cutting across the cross street just as the light changed. There was no time to think. No time to brake.

Just instinct.

Just motion.

Just—

Impact.

The world lurched, lights exploding into white and gold as metal screamed against metal.

And then—

Nothing.