Celebrating 50k words!
Updated: May 21, 2022
Happy Thursday! I just completed 50k words on my third WIP novel: The Imperial Bloodline!
And to celebrate... Here's a sneak peek of the first chapter (This is the edited version of the Book, not seen or published anywhere else!)
Enjoy reading and tell me what you think!
🗝
C H A P T E R O N E I
My story is a freedom song of struggle.
It is about finding one’s purpose, how to
overcome fear and to stand up for causes
bigger than one’s self.
— Coretta Scott King
There's a story between every page of a book. A story between the words, a story between letters, and that's exactly the way the Kingdom of Mithalore was built upon, stories.
I sat down underneath my favourite willow tree, beside the crook of an alleyway on Lee's Buns and Bakery street. I always found it peculiar how such a towering tree could grow amidst the shady corners and soulless streets. Not a trace of sunlight peeked through the splits between the worn-out buildings, it only thrived because of a single crack in the pavement, where a seed-seller once dropped a willow seed. I marvelled at how this tree continued living on for years but then I guess, that would be his story. And this would be mine.
The silver moon ceremony was a month away, yet the whole town worked their fingers to the bone on the first day of preparations.
My best friend, or rather, my only friend, Bree worked in her parents bakery; Lee's Bun's and Bakery, during preparation time, when all the Ivory committee members would grab a bun or a slice of cake during their breaks.
I slipped out, from underneath my cloak, a book. I wasn't who you'd call rich, you'd be mistaking me for the Ivories. I was a simple Amber, my parents are Amber, my grandparents were Ambers, and my entire ancestry were Ambers.
I was simply one of the many. Forgotten, yet still striving.
"I got you a bun." Bree greeted me with her cat grin. Her felinish green eyes was something I envied, along with her unremarkable tall and athletic figure. "Mum asked me to pack extra for your parents."
I closed my book, bookmarking the page number in my head. Along with so many other pages.
I slid the book back in the pocket sewn on the underside of my cloak. "Heavy customers?"
"You don't know." Bree shook her head. "We expected a lot of customers, it's the first day of preparations for God's sake, but we didn't expect a whole mob flooding the bakery!"
"This is the only bakery on this street." I pointed out, taking a bit of my bun, the cream already started oozing out on the top. "This street is named after your parents' bakery too."
I lifted the hood of my cloak, walking with Bree towards the selling grounds. It was our usual routine. Bree crafty-hands could produce anything from jewellery to decorations, whereas I sell my mothers makings.
She was a seamstress, working for King Alexandro himself. Every day, after work, she'd come home telling me stories of Ivorial life and happenings, she was my main source of Information when it came to Ivories.
Bree and I would spend our weekends listening to mothers retellings, all the things she's encountered during the week and all the projects she had been working on for the King's royal parties and whatnot.
That was until the council fired her. For reasons we will never know, nor care to anymore.
"Here." Bree handed out a basket filled with deliciously whipped pastries and oozing cream buns. "For your parents."
I smiled. "There probably won't be any left by the time the basket reaches home."
Bree rolled her eyes, another one of her great skills, and continued on with the latest gossip, "We won the Northern wars. King Alexandro apparently raided the easternlands of Ketra and attacked the Ketran Army from there."
"Don't those lands belong to the Ketran Amber? He can't possibly just start a war in the middle of Amber civilization."
"I think you forgot we're talking about Ivories here." Of course, there is absolutely no plausible explanation for Ivory decisions when it comes to the Ambers. They do what they will, and dare no one to question. "The press wrote an article on it, though we haven't heard from King Alexandro yet... I wonder if they won the northern wars at all."
I kept my face straight and hid myself under the shadows of my hood. Bree belonged to the wealthier side of Ambers, her parents would probably have enough to pay Ivory fines, but my parents on the other hand barely made enough for a single night's dinner.
If I even took one wrong glance at the Ivories, I'd end up in the dungeons.
Bree kept gossiping, one arm linked with mine, the other carrying her selling goods. I had left my boxes of gowns, which my mother had stitched, in the Market point, the safest place on the Ivorial selling grounds.
"Do you want me to get your boxes?" Bree paused between her canards and looked directly at me, which made me want to cower down. Bree's intense staring was not something I was yet used to after all these years.
"Sure." I waved my hand, wanting to get out of Bree's heated gaze. "Meet me at block five."
The book at the back of my cloak felt heavy, weighing me down with the other struggles of living an Amber life.
"Thief!" A high pitched scream was heard from ahead. "Thief! He stole my Necklace!" a tall woman, who looked like an Ivory, based on her expensive clothes and jewellery, pointed at a scruffy looking boy, a few years younger than me. "Security!"
People gathered around the commotion, the boy looked terrified, almost on the verge of crying. His pupils frantically searched around, to catch an opportunity, any opportunity, to get himself out of this mess. Unfortunately luck wasn't on his side, it almost never is with the Ambers.
I watched on, curious, knowing it was risky to even want to know about anything when you're an Amber.
A few seconds later, three guards pushed themselves through the crowd.
"He stole my pendant!" The woman once again pointed at the boy, her bony finger swaying in his direction but her eyes turned back, as if she couldn't even bear the sight of looking at him. "Give it back at once!"
"I-I..." the boy stuttered looking anywhere but at the security and the lean woman. The crowds were suffocating him, their peering gaze choking his words.
"H-Here.." he fumbled with the pendant and gave it to the woman, giving in like any other Amber would. I wondered why he didn't give it back to her at the very first
"Now boy, you know the law." one of the security men said, he wore a grey badge with an outline of a pegasus. He was a Spira "Give it up." The Spira officer opened up his palm and gestured to the boy. Once again, his hands were towards the boy's chest, but his eyes wandered around not bothering to even spare a glance.
"But I need the necklace! My mum is critical, she cant work anymore-"
"I said give it up!" There was a limit to his patience, and the boy had crossed it. Reluctantly he took out a small pouch filled with a couple of silver coins and handed it to the Spira, another officer then came forward and snatched the ID he wore on his neck.
"Your ID is confiscated, you are no longer allowed entry into Castle grounds." The boy's eyes were glistening, I frowned at the Ivory guards cruelty, how could they not understand the boy's plight? His pupils no more danced around, but were still,focused on the ID on the officer's hand.
The second guard, a Pyro, burnt his ID to ashes with a single flame dancing around his finger tips. Ignited from the heat of his own tyranny and rage.
"Go boy." he ordered. "Unless you want this to be the last time you'll ever be able to disobey." Ivory guards rarely killed, but if they got the chance to, I doubt they would give it up. Every law in Mithalore was considered sacred, there were no such things as loopholes, those belonged to the Ivory defaulters.
"I'm back." Bree hurried over bringing the two boxes I had left. "Another one?" she asked, looking at the forlorn boy slumping to the exit gates. She didn't need to question what had happened, these were natural occurrences, nothing new to Ambers.
"Never mind that." I grabbed the boxes away, not wanting to spoil any of our moods by thinking of this any longer. "I can smell the pastries becoming rotten."
"My parents hardly ever make anything that can rot, at least that's what our neighbours say."
We parted ways, Bree went on to sell and pickpocket a few carless Ivories, while I went about looking for buyers. Bree was a natural risk-taker, I liked to abide by the rules given to me, even if I opposed to them.
I shifted the boxes I was carrying on to my left arm and peered to the right.
People shuffled around hurriedly, shops opened up their shades and children were climbing the lamp poles and pinning streamers on each post.
Luckily enough I was given a simple job, distributing the decorations mother made. After she lost her job as a seamstress she went about cooking and cleaning for Ivories. When she wasn't doing anything in particular she would be sewing gowns, dresses, drapes and tablecloths for me to sell at the marketplace, that way we'd both be utilising ourselves.
Father on the other hand was a banker, he'd work late shifts and hardly ever came back home at night. He'd fall asleep in his office chair and would even skip dinners if there wasn't enough for the family.
He was someone I'd want to be like when I grow up, selfless and generous.
I carefully pulled out some white linen drapes, embodied with floral designs using silk threads. The entire drape was woven with sequins and pearls. I remembered mother making these three weeks prior, wondering how no one would want such a wonderfully woven drape.
The process wasn't very complicated, whenever the Ivories held events, they'd give a pouch of 50 silver coins to the committee members, and all the craftsmen in Mithalore went to the castle grounds to sell their decorations. The members would yell what they needed and the sellers would gather around the buyers, it was on a first-come, first-serve basis, no matter the price or quality.
As demanding as Ivories can be, I never did understand why they made us put in all this hard work a month before the event, and watch it tear apart during the ceremony. It was one of the joys of being an Ivory, watching hard work turn into ruins.
"Block 3 needs more tablecloths!"
I was sure that by the time I'd reach block three, someone else would have already sold their tablecloths and I'd have come here for nothing. "Tablecloths?" I asked around.
"Over here!" I wobbled towards the women who were setting the table decor, making sure not to tear apart my worn out sandals. It was a new pair I got a few months ago, well it wasn't new exactly, mother found it near the docks and gave it to me, since we can barely afford a single pair at all.
One of the women handed me a silver coin.
"They're worth more than that!" I argued. "At least three silvers!"
"Move on, little girl, that's all you'll be getting from us."
But I stubbornly waited and made no action of moving away. Though they knew of my presence, they continued their conversation anyway. I waited and slyly slipped my hand into a random committee member's skirt pocket. And pulled out the first thing I felt. My eyes widened. A small blue gemstone. I clenched my fingers to conceal it from prying eyes. All Ivories carried gemstones according to their elemental ability; it was said to be sacred to them, worthless in our hands, unless sold for money.
Pickpocketing was something I rarely did, unless it was deserved.
Thievery among the Ambers wasn't uncommon. There were many orphans, whose parents had been taken away to work or train in the coast, and they took up the art of pickpocketing. A skill Bree excels and has taught me.
The woman who gave me the silver rolled her eyes. "Oh. you're still here?" she took out another silver and tossed it at me like giving bread to a beggar, just for the sake that they wont be bothered anymore.
"Don't come back."
I nodded my head a bit too eagerly and went off to another block, but I could still catch on to what she said after I left.
"I swear, these Amber sellers are the reason we're so downgraded. Vagrants they are."
I scowled. We struggle to survive, without vagrants like us, the economy would fall. But I said nothing, as every Amber is taught to do, and something I particularly dislike about being an Amber. I ran off to another block, tightening the hood of my cloak, making sure no one would care to remember a little vagrant like me.
●・○・●・○・●
"Block 5 needs more drapes!"
It was mid-day and the yelling had not ceased, sellers went around in groups, each person selling something different.
Ambers never really could catch a break, while we worked our heads off to keep the kingdom economically supported, the Ivories celebrated lavishly, using their powers for personal gain and throwing expensive parties whenever they found a reason to. They made us labor hard, and used their abilities as a threat towards us, which is why we keep our mouths shut and comply to their terms.
I felt the book weighing me down again.
To the far right, the junction near Lee's Buns and Bakery co. You would see a bare Oak tree. Growing up, almost all the children gathered around that Oak, spewing tales and stories, but the tree held significance, at least among the little children. Though the tree may seem bare and wilting, there was a story behind it, like everything here in Mithalore.
Once upon a time, the Oak tree was the largest and most beautiful sight on Buns and Bakery street, children hung on each branch, swaying and swinging, laughing and singing. That was, until winter arrived. Winters were harsh in Mithalore, the coast workers usually died of severe frostbite, whenever they worked in the ports for too long, resulting in lower trade and stock supplies for food, an Ambers source of supply.
One by one, the leaves silently dropped to the frosty flaked grass. First it fell in singles, then pairs and soon... batches. Until there isn't anymore left. Yet still the oak kept growing, the branches still stretched, thanks to the Terra's.
The tree symbolised the Ivories, the branches; all they had over us. The leaves were what kept us tied with them, their moral and human values. Year after year, they too fell off. Kindness, sympathy, gentleness. All fallen down, until all that was left was a barren and withering tree managing to grow even bigger even after all it had lost.
The curtains drew another scene, this time it was two little girls barely reaching the age of eight. They were twins, their dresses were identical and so were their faces.
"How dare you cheat me?" a committee member yelled, enraged. "These are not silver! I asked for pure silver centrepieces and you demand more?"
I wanted to laugh, a full grown woman yelled at two children, but the fear of the situation kept me alert. Another thing Ivories hated was being cheated into something.
"They-they are silver!" One of the twins explained. "We bought-the shopkeeper, he said-he said that they were silver."
The woman bashed the silver centrepieces, they lay broken into bits on the hard cement path. "You." she pointed at both of them "Out of my sight!"
The little children ran away, they were barefoot, which made me feel sorry about how many tiny rocks and sharp bits they had to trod upon.
I ran after them, for what reason I don't know. "Wait!" I called, slowing down as they stopped mid-way. "Here." I took out the book from underneath my cloak. Folklore and Ivory Folk, the book I was reading.
They looked at me, questioning almost.
"Sell it." I clarified. "The national library, you would get enough for a month's worth of dinners at the most and even a pair of shoes." I could hear the clicking of metal chains and a couple of guard officers chuckling. I handed them two buns as a farewell, who knows when I'll ever see them again, or if I ever will.
I risked a glance at their eyes and they were nothing but filled with gratitude. This is what Mithalore needs from Ivories, kindness, something that they lost a long time ago, something they lost with the falling of the leaves.
I returned back with my boxes, just a few items left to sell and then I would go back home, mother would sew some more for tomorrow and I would stay up all night for father to return.
"Watch it kid!" just to my luck, I stumbled into an Ivory as I was returning back to my selling block, his eyes were red as fire and skin was burning. "Can't look where you're going, can you?" his hands were glowing in a bright shade of red, a Pyro.
I tried standing up, but my legs slipped on the rims of my cloak and I momentarily lost balance, falling into him again.
"Do you need some lessons to learn how to stand properly too?" I could sense his patience wearing thin. His forehead was wrinkled in fury, one small trigger could set him off like a bomb. And no number of fines would pay for this.
"My apologies, sir." I made sure not to look into his eyes, Pyro's could sense fear, and instead, looked down at my worn out shoes, vulnerability. Pyro's often enjoyed people bowing down to them or cowering in fear, just like most Ivories do.
I bit my lip hard, the last thing I wanted to do was bow down to an Ivory, but for the sake of the Ambers, I would gladly do it a thousand times if it meant their safety.
He grunted, clearly pleased with my performance. "If I catch you next time kid, you won't be so lucky." he was letting me go, reluctantly. It seems that he too had enough commotion for one day.
The minute his gaze left my image I ran, as fast as my worn out sandals could take me. I didn't want to think about this moment again, it was one of the many moments buried deep in me, left to be forgotten, just like we are.
●・○・●・○・●
"Willow!" Mrs. Quinn called for me, she was the wife of the royal blacksmith, and the planner of almost all royal events. One of the upper class Ambers, who got to work directly for the royal council. Though she worked for the Ivories, she was one of the most favoured Ambers in our Village.
"Two large drapes, preferably a royal shade of white, to act as a background for the framed pictures of the king."
I handed her one of the long drapes mother sewed from one of the boxes I was carrying. I let my fingers slip through the fabric before handing it to her for inspection. Weeks of hard work went into that drape, mother bandaged many of her prickled fingers for this. I was reluctant to give it to her at all if it meant being thrown away after the ceremony, but I needed the money.
"Dear lord, what has happened to your shoe! My, I can see your toe wiggling out!"
I smiled sheepishly at her, it was better than splinters. "Oops." was all I said, not wanting to further clarify. I was brought back to the twins, walking around barefoot. A flood of sympathy engulfed me.
She shook her head "I'll pay you 8 silvers for this, and no more."
"Perfect!"
●・○・●・○・●
A bunch of Ivory officials started inspecting what has been done so far. A hydro, water nymph, was directing all the committee members on where to place the fountain statues. A couple of terras were growing vines around the entry gates, and pyros were ordering the members around, bossy things they were.
They were always inspecting, showing off their authority over the Ambers, like swaying a giant pearly necklace to someone who can barely afford a single pearl.
Soon the sun set, and the boxes I brought were sold. All in all, I made a bit of seventeen silvers in total, which was enough to get my family by for another few days.
The silver moon ceremony was a big event for the Ivories, it was a coming of age celebration, where all the 18 year old Ivories were matched with their elemental powers; Fire, Water, Earth, Air.
"Willy!" a familiar voice rang. "Willow!"
I looked left and right, searching for the voice and the familiar face of its owner. "Bree!"
Willow. It was the name my mother picked out for me, though she wasn't really my mother.She always said she found me near that same willow tree from before, and then adopted me with that name.
Bree stood a couple metres away and ran towards me. Her green eyes sparkling in mischief as her wild abony hair flew in all directions. I felt the gemstone jiggle in my pocket as I ran up to her.
"How much did you make?" she smirked. "I made 13 silvers, and even stole a couple golds."
Golds? "I made seventeen silvers, and pickpocketed a gemstone."
" Let me see." she squealed and jumped up and down like a child, drawing attention from the nearby sellers and committee members. I frantically searched if there were any officers nearby, we could be thrown out for causing a scene.
"Hush! Sometimes you still act so immature." she rolled her eyes in response.
Carefully I took out the gemstone and hid near a sellers shop.
"Do you know what kind it is?"
She picked up the gemstone, quite roughly, and examined it, slipping it to and fro, between her fingers. "Blue, so a sapphire or aquamarine. Probably aquamarine because it's lighter."
I nodded. Bree knew her gemstones well, she probably thieves a whole box of them to make jewellery for Ivorial Parties. "How much will it fetch me?"
"5 golds if you're selling it to a Hydro"
Pyros, like the man from earlier, are the fire breathing dragons of the kingdom, one wrong move, and you'd be burnt alive. Flames were their closest allies.
Terras are like earthen elves, minus the pointy ears, they could grow a whole forest in a span of a minute. Terras are usually rough and straightforward, blunt but menacing.
Spira's are the wind manipulators, they are quiet and collected, and are the most loyal to the Ivories. Though their moods change swiftly like the weather.
Hydros, nicknamed as nymphs, are the prettiest and deceiving ivories, they're peaceful, but are cunning. Behind those innocent blue eyes are judgmental ones, calculating your movements and waiting to strike. They were the highest among the Ivories, and the cruellest among the Ambers.
"5 golds." I muttered. "I'll see if I get the opportunity." she simply shrugged, Bree was often like that, she never paid any heed or concern to things that were not directly affiliated with her. Her parents and a few other people were the only ones she would stick to. She was lucky enough that her parents were wealthy bakers, owing Lee's Buns and Bakery.co and getting a street named after their business.
Bree is very selective to who she chooses to be with, but if you gain her trust, you'll gain her undying loyalty as well. I was lucky to be one of those people.
"Buns and Bakery will be closing soon, we better head to my house, We might get leftovers!"
Right now, all I wanted to do was curl up under my blanket and maybe read a few books. "I think I'm going to go back home." I threw the boxes and hld the basket of pastries firmly. "See you tomorrow."
●・○・●・○・●
"Willow! How did it go?" Mother was the first to greet me. She was cooking some stew on our tiny stove. Our house wasn't what you'd call grand, it had a single storey, and shades on the terrace, which was where I slept most of the time. Our kitchen and dining room were merged together, and the battered mattress my parents slept in was kept at the side near the chipped window. We had no bathroom.
"Sold everything!" I beamed.I had learnt a lot from my mother, occasionally I would even sew with her. When I turn eighteen, I'll be eligible for a permit to get a job at the castle as a maid. It would bring us out of this state of poverty.
Mother smiled sadly, "I wish we didn't have to make you work this hard, you spent half of your childhood earning money, most children spend that time going to school."
It was true, I never went to school, but I learned to read and write, I stash old newspapers in my shelves to practice sometimes. I could never leave my mother alone to earn for my tuition fees.
Father himself had to keep looking for a job every few months so we could keep afloat.
I shook my head. "Don't worry about it mum, at least we can afford a house and dinners, better than sleeping on the streets hungry."
Now it was her turn to shake her head, "It's useless arguing with you, you're as stubborn as an ox." she chuckled brushing a strand of my auburn hair. "Anyways, your father is on the terrace, call him for dinner." I kissed her cheek in response, father usually is never here before me.
"Oh and this." I handed over the basket of pastries to her. "From Bree, per usual."
Mother grinned. "Now if only I could let you have these for dinner."
"Never too late to try." I winked skipping off to fetch my father.
●・○・●・○・●
"How was your day?" he asked, sipping on the stew mother made for dinner, we didn't have any spoons, so we were forced to drink it up from the chipped bowl itself. "Make any extra sales?"
"Quite a few actually." I took out my pouch of silver coins and tossed it towards my father.
"seventeen. Not bad. That's more than what I make in a week." he smiles, sadness evident in his eyes. Both of my parents hated it when I worked too hard, they felt like they weren't doing their duty to provide for their child. But I was glad to be independent at such a young age, it taught me so much.
"It's a good thing really, I'm independent now. Maybe, when I turn 18, I might get asked to work in a castle, and we won't be living in this old place anymore..."
Mother and father shared a look, mother spoke first, "Sweetie, we know you have big dreams, and you're always working to reach them. Whenever we see you, you're always up all night sewing or crafting with me, but have you considered other things?"
I was a bit taken back, "Sewing and crafting is what you taught me to do."
Father took over. "We're not saying that it isn't, just maybe, you should focus on something you like to do, your mother loved sewing and so she became a seamstress. What about you?"
I still didn't understand what this conversation was for.
"I don't need to worry." I stated. "I know how to sew and that should be enough to become a maid or seamstress." I confirmed. Sewing was how mother made the most income in the family, and it would be something I'd like to take up too.
"That's unwise, what if you lose your job, like your mum did. How will you provide for yourself? Eventually you'll need to be your own source of income, and you'll need to be good at what you're doing, not doing it because you can."
"But I can sew." I shrugged, chewing on a carrot in the stew. "It's better than nothing." mother sighed disapprovingly. I silently agreed too, the truth was... I had no passion. I would sit up late and sew with mother or pickpocket with bree. Reading was something I was exceptional at, but it isn't a job worth paying for.
"As your parents we are trying to get you to make good decisions, once you're 18 you'll no longer be under our radar, you'll have to make your own choices and face its consequences. You'll Have to take your own risks and decide if they're worth taking at all. It's best to lean on something beneficial."
"You don't believe in me, do you?" my voice grew, "You both don't think I'll make it?"
Father shook his head, "You're misunderstanding us, we just don't want to see you disappointed after all the effort you've put into it." I could tell he was telling it from experience, when mother lost her job, and now they're afraid the same would happen to me.
"So you don't believe in me."
"That is not what I said!" Father's face was turning red in anger. If he was a Pyro, fumes would be rising from his head and smoke out of his ears. "All I am asking you to do is try and cultivate your own passion."
"I already have a passion!" I yelled, the unstable table shook slightly with all the racket. Mother shrinked in her chair.
"It isn't a passion if it isn't what you enjoy doing!" father's voice was on par with mine.
"Then I'll start to-"
"Would it hurt, for once, to actually listen to what we're trying to say before disagreeing without context?"
I pursed my lips, this was the end of this conversation, if it wasn't, I'll make sure it is. "I can't promise you anything."
How could such a good day turn so horrible?
●・○・●・○・●
I looked around my small room, the floor was filled with pages of old booksandclippings of scrap paper bills from Lee's Buns and Bakeries. I picked up a rather long bill examining each ands every order, the placement of the typed letters and the sum of money at the bottom. These used to be my practice sheets, from which I learnt to read. Bree and I would grab whatever bill we could when we were young and practice reading it out loud in front of the willow tree, in the alleyway of Lee's Buns and Bakery street.
you'll need to be good at what you're doing, not doing it because you can
"Willow?" Mother's gentle voice rang from behind me. I didn't want to look behind, I was afraid I might break. I was an Amber, I've been through far worse things than parental arguments.
"We're sorry if we upset you, but we're not sorry for looking out for you. It's a tough time for your father, you're turning eighteen and you're going to scout into a whole new world on your own, he just wants to be a part of that world. It's hard for him to let go of his only daughter." Mother's eyes were glistening, I didn't want to exclaim that I wasn't really their daughter, but they've been more of prent-figures than my actual ones, and that I can't complain. "He just wants you to try something you'll remember him by."
I hated it when mother cried, she spent days cooped up in her room after she got fired, we had to move to a tinier house, the first few days were rough, and mother especially wouldn't stop sobbing at the fact that she wouldn't be able to provide a better future for me. I didn't want to cause any tension between our family, after all it was just the three of us.
I sighed. "I'll try." but I only promised to take some weight off her shoulders, she's been through a lot already, I don't want to add to her burden.
Mother left without another word, and once again, it was just me and my running thoughts. I started fiddling with the aquamarine in my pocket while absentmindedly brushing the newspaper clippings kept near the terrace railings, the most recent one I had was yesterday's newspaper
The kingdom of Mithalore is in confusion, after the announcement of the victory against the northern kingdoms, King Alexandro Vaclare IV hasn't yet made an appearance for any kind of celebrations. The Northern wars have been going off and on for the past four years, surely our victory should be a cause of great joy and commemoration. The royal council has kept quiet and dismissed all interrogations, "Do not fret, kingdom of Mithalore, your ruler is fine and will join you in the celebrations during the Silver Moon ceremony, where the distribution of powers will take place." was the only reply. No further explanations were given about the whereabouts of the King.
I'd like to think the King isn't cruel, like the other Ivories, but then I'd be fantasising. The King made us suffer the most during his reign, making the separation barrier between the Ambers and Ivories wider than ever before. They even put restrictions to facilities like schooling and hospitals. If you didn't have enough to pay for a years-worth of tuition fees, or for a doctor's appointment, you simply weren't allowed them at all.
Dangling my legs on the edge of the terrace, I tried to take my mind off things and stargaze for a while.
The sky in Mithalore was an indescribable one, the stars always felt like they were moving and bright colours of pink, green and baby blue were streaked in odd places.
My mind wandered from the different types of constellations I had read in an astronomy article in a newspaper and back to the conversation at dinner.
My parents were just trying to look out for me, after all, in a week I was going to be eighteen and they couldn't have a say in my life anymore. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that maybe, I did need to find something I'm good at.
I crumpled the newspaper article and threw it out the terrace bars.
The truth is I don't have anything special to go by. Bree was popular among the upper class Ambers because of her wealthy parents, Mrs. Quinn had a blacksmith working directly with the King himself, mother used to work at the castle for all the Ivorial royals... and me? I was simply a girl who had the privilege to learn to read.
If only there was a way where I didn't have to put in so much effort, where I didn't have to labour so hard just to find something I enjoy doing, if only the Ivories were kind enough to treat us as their equals instead of their inferiors, if only the leaves would have never fallen.
Or if only they would have regrown.
What did you think of the edited first chapter? Tell me in the comments! The edited versions of my chapters will be uploaded in the book club for review, so sign up now if you'd like to be the first to read all the edited chapters of my first draft!
Half of my book has been published on Wattpad (Unedited and Incomplete) If you'd like a gist of the storyline you can READ IT HERE.
If the link doesn't work then click below:
Until next time, storytellers!