Prologue
“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.” -William Shakespeare.
My family has been fighting a war no one wanted for longer than I can remember. I was born into war and raised through it until I was 8. The kingdom had won the war. My parents never put any feud before their people. That is how I met Darcy Yearwood.
Darcy Yearwood was born in the middle of the sea. He has followed in his parents’ footsteps as being the Captain of The Kilgarvan. After the war ended he and his parents would visit for the yearly peace meeting. He would play in the garden with me or visit the market. His parents died out in the sea due to a lack of food. Darcy blames my family, how we are to blame, I will never know.
My kingdom, The Tailon Kingdom, has always been peaceful. Our people are respectful of each other, they help each other, and show love to everyone. When I was little, I would go to the market every Saturday. See my people care for each other, sell products they made or grew, and see artists perform for everyone. They were lively even through the war. After the war was over, they were even happier. Colors were brighter, music was louder, and the food was sweeter.
Then it happened...
Darcy Yearwood, now Captain Yearwood, sent the letter to my father, informing us of his parents’ passing and declaring war. When I read the letter my heart broke for him, they were a close family.
The first few months were a blur, ships sinking, his ship taking damage, my people dying, his dying. I hoped every day everyone would make it out alive. Every letter was opened and read before it ever hit the castle. Windows were shut and never opened. There were no more visits to the market or anywhere outside of the castle walls.
I remember one particularly warm day I had snuck into a far corner of the garden. I had ditched the guards my father had following me. While I was sitting under a tree I would climb with Darcy, I heard a whisper above me. When I looked I saw green eyes I would know anywhere. Darcy smiled and quickly ran off, dropping an apple from his satchel.
I keep that memory tucked away. If my family ever knew, he wouldn’t live another day.
I shut my journal and place it under my pillow. The less my family knows about my thoughts, the better. I check my reflection in the floor-length mirror and make sure nothing is out of place. I open the door and make my way down the hall to the throne room. I hear small and fast footsteps behind me.
“Diana, what is it?” I ask with annoyance in my voice. Diana is the one who my parents are having to watch me while they travel to my cousins’ wedding.
“Forgive me Your Highness, but we need to speak, in private.” I stop at the hushed tone. I turn to her and see a scared but somber look in her eyes. I nod and ask her to follow me to my fathers’ study. Once we enter the room I shut the door and close off the rest of the world. I move to a seat in front of the couch and motion for her to sit.
“What is going on?” She plays with the hem of her dress and refuses to look at me. “Diana, what is it? Has Captain Yearwood sunk another ship?” She nods. “Which ship, Diana?” I start to panic. Hoping my parents are no longer at sea.
“We got word from a nearby port, the ship that Captain Yearwood sunk, was the one with your parents on it. There are no survivors.” My heart stops. She keeps speaking but I tune it out. I feel the room start to spin and grab the chair hoping it keeps me steady. I close my eyes and see all the memories of them laughing with me at the market or running around the castle. I feel a hand on my knee and I’m brought back to the world around me. “Astrid, are you alright?” I take a deep breath.
“Fly the flags at half mass and send the news to be posted in tomorrow’s paper. I want the news to be posted outside the castle as soon as we can. There will be a day of mourning this Saturday. The market cannot open.” I say with no emotion.
“Your Highness, what about the wages those venders are losing?”
“They will be given compensation.” She nods and leaves the room. I finally relax and start to cry. I cry so hard I can feel the chair shake under me. I don’t know how long I cry, but I know I sleep in my fathers’ study that night.
