Gifted

Eldana

The gifts stand in a solemn line before him, each concealed beneath a hooded cloak that pools across the cold stone floor.

“My husband,” I say with a warm smile, “we have searched every corner of the kingdom to bring you only the finest.”

With theatrical flourish, I sweep my arm towards the cloaked figures and bow deeply.

From the throne, I feel the King’s posture shift with interest.

“Proceed,” he commands, his voice low and gruff.

At my signal, the guards step forward. One by one, they unfasten the single brooch that secures each cloak at the shoulder.

A whisper of fabric becomes a chorus as the cloaks tumble to the floor.

The court falls silent.

Before them stands a celebration of womanhood itself.

Women of every shape, every size, every complexion. Tall and petite. Soft and sculpted. Youthful and mature. Each carrying her beauty with quiet confidence, together forming a magnificent tapestry of femininity.

Not chosen for sameness, but for their glorious differences. A kingdom’s beauty, gathered into one room, and laid before its King.

I too, am considered beautiful, with silver eyes and violet hair fit for a queen. Yet my womb has remained empty.

The King knew this before he placed the crown upon my head. He chose me nonetheless, and loved me all the same.

So as tradition decrees, on his name day the King will take to his bed a woman of humble birth. Should their union produce a child, that child shall be recognised as heir to the throne.

The burden of finding these women falls to me.

I carry it without complaint.

With careful consideration, I seek those who will be treated with dignity, honoured for their sacrifice, and remembered not as nameless commoners, but as women who ensured the future of the kingdom.

My gaze drifts across the women. They stand tall, each wearing the quiet pride of having been chosen.

All proud.

Every one of them.

Except one.

She alone meets the court with open defiance, a spark of contempt burning in deep hazel eyes. Her lips are pressed into a thin, unyielding line, as though daring anyone to challenge her.

Her skin glows with a warm, golden hue, made richer by waves of mousy brown hair that tumble over her shoulders, grazing the swell of her breasts. My gaze lingers only a heartbeat, drawn not by her beauty alone, but by the quiet strength she wears like armour. She refuses to bow beneath the weight of a hundred watchful eyes.

Then she lifts her chin and looks directly at me.

My breath catches.

“Eldana.”

The King’s voice cuts cleanly through my thoughts.

“Yes, my King?”

He rises from his throne and crosses the hall with measured purpose. For a fleeting moment, his expression remains solemn. Then, as he reaches me, it softens into a smile.

“You have chosen well.”

He presses a tender kiss to my forehead before turning to face the line of women.

“Today,” he declares, his voice echoing through the great hall, “you have been summoned to perform a great service to the realm and offered the chance of a life beyond anything you have ever known.”

His gaze sweeps across them.

“Each of you was chosen not only for your beauty, but for the gifts of magic that run through your blood. It is our hope that those gifts may one day live on in the heir to this kingdom.”

He pauses, allowing his words to settle over the silent court.

“Tonight, one among you will share our chamber - Your Queen’s and mine, and together we shall seek to secure the future of the realm.”