Ten years. I had been assured the throne for ten years. Now it had been ripped from me, stolen by this pitifully mewling... thing. It was grotesque in the way it's mouth was devoid of teeth and its skin still had a layer of drying afterbirth coating its face and hands in patches. This crying, wrinkled sack of flesh was taking my place in succession to an entire kingdom. Not because I would not be an adequate ruler or lacked the necessary training, but simply because I was female and there was now a male to become the heir instead.

There had been murmuring among the servants that perhaps the new sibling would be a male and how it would be so wonderful if the King would finally get a rightful heir. I could not understand how they could so shamelessly say such things within my earshot. Their words implied that I was not sufficient enough and that my father was left wanting. I was smart, cunning, and resourceful, all good attributes for a ruler.

The thing screamed louder. Mother was having complications, something I didn't quite understand, but the midwife had thrust the baby into my arms muttering something about bleeding. I had been kind and put it in the prepared basket with blankets. In hindsight, I should have strangled it or chucked it into the field behind the castle for the scavengers to find, but I was in shock.

Mother had assured me that it would be a girl, that all the women in her family had girls and that she would be no different. I had been raised as an only child, promised the throne and all the glory that would come with it once my father stepped down. All of those promises were broken now that a boy had been born. Father would not allow myself to be his heir now that there was a male bloodline to give it to instead. While I knew he had shown favor to me since I was born, I could not remedy the fact that I was not the gender society told him a true ruler should be.

I didn't think it could scream any louder, but it seemed to be growing more lung power by the minute. Though I was certain that I could likely soothe it somewhat by picking it up, I refused to hold the usurper more than I already had. Let it cry, it deserved distress for what it had done to me. The great sitting room had a large fireplace and though it wasn't really cold in the room, I stocked it to a roaring blaze to hopefully drown out some of the insufferable sound.

“Toria,” the midwife chastised sharply, “were you going to just let him cry?”

I passed my gaze away from the fire and towards the plump, blood-speckled woman who had just entered from the birthing room, but didn't give an answer. She had birthed me as well, though I never particularly cared despite how many times she liked to bring up that fact like it held weight.

“Your mother will be cross with you if I am to tell her about this,” she stressed, picking up the screaming sack of flesh from the basket. “He is your brother and heir to the throne you are to help with his rearing from this day forward.”

“I was the heir until just an hour ago,” I said blandly. It took a great deal of restraint not to ball up my fists and knock him from her arms.

“Thus is life. Sometimes what we once had leaves and we are left to make the best of the situation. You are still a princess, take solace in the knowledge that any other girl in this kingdom wishes they were you.”

She didn't understand, how could she? Commoners never seemed to understand that in the world of royalty and nobility, you were nobody unless you were at the top. Perhaps no one would understand what it felt like to have their kingdom stripped from them before they even had a chance to rule it.

The aging woman frowned at my reluctance to speak anymore with her. Thick wrinkles arose along the corners of her mouth and her sagging neck skin bounced up and down as she tried to soothe the traitor. It was particularly unattractive and I had to bite my tongue from saying so.

“I hope that you will be in a better humor and remember your manners by the morning. Your mother will want to see you and your great aunt will be arriving,” she said with a warning tone. “Your mother is from a very powerful and refined family. I can only imagine that her great aunt will not be so patient with you if you still insist on acting like an insolent brat.”

I thought I would bite right through my tongue as I stopped myself from lashing out at being called a brat. It was a term that people seemed to enjoy throwing at me whenever I asserted my own feelings or opinions. Had I been born with a different set of genitals, I would instead be praised for being bold or confident.

With a final disapproving “tut,” the midwife left to present the golden male child to my traitor of a mother. I was certain that she would coo and cry over finally giving my father another child and, even better, a new heir. There was no threat or punishment that would convince me to join in on that moment of ultimate betrayal, I stood firm in my position before the fire, trying not to give the world the satisfaction of my tears escaping the corner of my eyes.

Unsurprisingly, no one came to fetch me or tell me that my mother wanted my company. Those days were over, there was a replacement to fret and fawn over. For the first time in my life I fed, bathed, and put myself to bed, all the while seething. This was not what was to happen. It was supposed to also be a girl and then I would still be the eldest heir, my position undisturbed.

Studying my image in the mirror of my vanity, it was almost shocking that I looked no different from that morning aside from the bitter scowl upon my lips. This very morning it was accepted that I was heir, now I was nothing. Anger rose up my throat and caused me to smash the mirror with the bone comb, taking a bit of satisfaction in watching the glass shatter and crackle with a spiderweb design. I didn't know how, but the kingdom would pay for this. I was still a young child, but I would not forget how everyone could so easily turn their back on me.

Though my bed was still lavish with exotic, soft materials for blankets and goose feathers like a cloud, it felt like a prison cot. The day prior I had been happy at the thought of welcoming a little sister as I drifted off to sleep. I had considered even allowing her to be an adviser in my future court. Now, I was left to wonder just how I would get my revenge or how I would even be able to cope with being surrounded by traitors from now on.

My dreams were filled with violence. My mind let its anger out by proposing each and every way I could have rid myself of the problem before the midwife had arrived. In my dreams I laughed in triumph as the life faded out of the usurper, its blood running down my arms and feeling like it gave me life by seeping into my pores. What would they have done? They would not have risked ridding themselves of the only heir.

I had never been a particularly dark or disturbed child. In fact, I had been quite the opposite with always a laugh and a sing-song in her voice. Sure, I had tempers and moods like any other small child, but after pulling back the swaddled blanket and seeing the betrayal something snapped liked a tension-ed string deep within my chest. At such a tender age, I was suddenly hyper-aware of how unfair and brutal reality could be.

“Child, why do you look so sullen?” my traitor of a mother cooed the next morning when I joined them for breakfast before the fire.

She looked weak and pallid. Her normally lightly tanned skin was almost bone white and her revered red locks were greasy and tangled. For a brief moment, I found myself feeling satisfied that at least she was suffering for her treachery.

“Still have not found your manners?” the midwife asked rhetorically, casting me a withering look. “She fancies that it is unfair that she is no longer the heir.”

Recognition flashed across my mother's face, but slowly it softened into a look of what I could only interpret as some type of amusement. It was as if she found my plight somewhat humorous.

“It is just life,” she began, echoing the midwife's blathering the day before, “you had to know that this might happen.”

I said nothing in return and ate my morning porridge while keeping my eyes trained on the floor in front of me. Counting the cracks in the stones kept me from losing it and flying into a rage.

“It is the way of things,” she continued despite my silence, “men are the leaders and women must defer to them. It is nature.”

“I never thought I'd hear something like that come from the mouth of a daughter of Evonia Yser.”

A woman who looked quite a bit like my mother had appeared in the door that connected to the long hallway. She seemed as taken aback by the state as I had been with her hand to her chest like she had to steady her internal feelings.

“Aunt Mari,” my mother said, weakly reaching out warmly to the guest. Quite a feat it seemed in her current state. “I am so happy to see you. Please, come meet my new child.”

The woman who should have looked quite a bit older, yet somehow looked much more fresh-faced and younger than my mother twenty years her junior, stepped into the room, eyes scanning around as if carefully assessing her surroundings.

“I have heard it is a boy child,” my aunt Mari said. Though her tone did not change, there was something in her voice that caused me to look fully up from my staring match with the floor. I could tell that she was suppressing anger.

“Yes, the King has decided to name him Florin,” my mother said wistfully. On unsteady feet she rose to hold the child out to be held by her kin.

Aunt Mari made a sound from somewhere deep in her chest and shook her head. “I have held my tongue the entire time you have settled to live a subservient life. That has been your choice and while I do not approve, I refuse to dictate your life. However, while I initially came hoping to celebrate another daughter brought into the world, now I must ask what your intentions are for your eldest.”

My mother blinked, her tired blue eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep and physical exertion. “What do you mean?” she asked. “She is still my child.”

“Is she still the direct heir?” my aunt bluntly asked. Her lips had drawn into a harsh, thin line.

“The King would never allow that with a male heir.” My mother sounded confused, like such a question was silly to ask.

Though I had already reached the same conclusion, it stung that my mother had already accepted the outcome. More so that it seemed that she herself thought it fair.

“So she is just to be cast aside though she has been raised all this time to expect to be ruler?”

“I see now where the child gets her stubborn ideas about fairness,” the midwife muttered a bit too loudly.

Mari's eyes quickly locked onto the midwife, her right hand twitching with agitation. There was something threatening about the glance, though I was certain that no one would dare do anything violent in my father's castle.

“Hold your tongue, servant,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “While you may have accepted your position as a lesser, a stain upon the boot of your King, my great niece does not need to debase herself in the same way.”

Mother's face paled, her eyes darting between the two women. “Please, this is a happy occasion,” she pleaded quietly.

“It is not,” my aunt corrected, “is it, Toria?”

My head snapped up at the sound of my name and I locked eyes with the mysterious woman for the first time. There was intelligence and darkness in her eyes. I could feel the power she commanded.

“No,” I said, “it is a horrible day.”

While my mother let out a soft gasp, a smirk spread across aunt Mari's face. She gave me an approving incline of her head and broke eye contact with me to turn back to my mother.

“Well, now that you have made your choices, born a male child, and forsaken your daughter, I see only one, obvious choice.”

“Please don't,” my mother whimpered, setting her eyes fully on me for the first time since the new heir had been born.

“Don't pretend that you have some sentimental attachment now,” my aunt said with an annoyed roll of her eyes. “If you truly loved and cared for her, then you would not cast her claim to the throne aside because a male was born.”

“She is my first born, of course I love and care for her.”

“Then name her the heir. Here. Now. Declare it and stand by it,” Mari challenged.

The silence was deafening.

“Precisely,” she snarled, “you never had her best interests in mind and are content to allow her to live in misery. She will mature into the powerful, intelligent woman she is capable of being under my guidance.”

“You cannot take her,” my mother shouted, finally finding her voice, “I will not let you!”

Raising an eyebrow, my aunt took a step towards my mother, causing her to shrink back in fear.

“You are weak and always have been, Rela. While you are a daughter of Yser, I also suspected that your father's blood had tainted you a bit too much. It is apparent that I have been correct. We both know that if you try to stop me, you will not survive.”

“Are you threatening the Queen?!” the midwife screeched, face reddening in indignation.

“It's not a threat, but a promise that she knows to be true,” she replied dispassionately. “I will have the child without a fight, because the Queen values her own life and that of the new heir above her first born.”

Giving no chance for a reply, aunt Mari reached out an inviting hand to me which I took with no hesitation. I didn't care where she was going to take me, there would certainly be no further happiness possible for me within the castle.

“No...” my mother moaned, but made no movement to snatch me away from her grasp.

Mari rolled her eyes again and gave me a look that communicated that she thought my mother's distress to be an act. “Come child, let me show you true power and strength. Though you have the final choice of your own destiny, you can stay if you'd like.”

“Let's go,” I said barely after she had finished speaking. There was no doubt in my mind that my destiny did not lay in being a political pawn for the kingdom.

The exit from the castle was a blur, my aunt moving swiftly like she couldn't stand being within the walls for any longer. Almost disappointingly, neither my mother or the midwife made any move to recover me. I was certain that if they had raised the alarm, that an entire army could have surely returned me, but I suppose to them I was not worth the fuss.

Outside the gate to the castle entrance, my aunt sharply called for her horse and mine, tapping her foot with impatience.

“Have you ever been traveling before?” she asked me as we waited.

“Only to the surrounding area for festivals or jousts,” I replied. For all I knew there wasn't much of anything beyond our borders. I certainly had little proof that anything existed from beyond.

She made a disapproving sound with her tongue in her mouth and shook her head. “We will be going far beyond anywhere you have been before and the ride is not always pleasant.”

I nodded in understanding. Even though I had never met her before that day, I knew that I could trust her intentions with me.

“Where are we going?”

“To the Hall of Yser,” she replied offhandedly like I should already know what that meant.

I looked up to her with a puzzled expression. I knew that my mother's originating house was the Yser, but nothing beyond the name and that they were well-respected had been explained to me. I could see the darkness begin to gather in her eyes as it dawned upon her that I did not know what or where that was.

“Your mother truly has lost her way,” she snarled, “she never intended for you to be Queen if she never even told you about the blood that flows through your veins. I had suspected before... but now I am certain of what she's done.”

“What's she done?” I asked, confused. “She thought she would have another girl child and I would remain heir.”

I didn't know why I felt the need to protect her image. It wasn't like she had made any efforts to preserve my station.

“I'm sure that's what she said to you, but they were empty, pacifying words,” Aunt Mari said with a bitter laugh. “My first lesson to you is perhaps the most important: never believe anyone who is telling you what you want to hear.”

Wrinkling my forehead in thought, I searched for how my mother could have been possibly deceiving me. “Is it not true that women in our family typically bear female children? If that is true, then she would have thought she was telling the truth.”

A soft look washed over her face and she placed a comforting hand on my shoulder while shaking her head. “It is true, the only way to change it would have been through magic.”

“Magic? Like in books and those old stories the servants tell?” Magic was something that I had years ago placed in the same realm as the Tooth Gremlin and fairies. Idle fantasy dreamed up by bored servants without enough duties to keep their minds occupied.

“Yes, that kind of magic. Your mother would have known just enough to influence the gender of the child.”

I squinted my eyes closed at the information, like I had to block out the rest of my senses to be able to parse it into understanding. If my aunt was being truthful, then this was truly an act of willing treason by my mother.

“It would be something incredibly frowned upon by our family and will likely lead to her being cast out, but it is the only likely explanation. I would assume that she would be upset by the gender if she was not the cause of it.”

Yes, it all made sense now. The soothing words and platitudes had all been to appease me during the later half of her pregnancy. She knew that I would be angry and hoped to make herself look innocent. This entire time I had been being manipulated and deceived. Confusion was quickly replaced by fury.

“Hold onto that feeling,” my aunt instructed with humor in her voice, “it will drive you to be better than those who have wounded you.”

The stable boy returned with my chestnut mare and an ebony gelding belonging to my aunt. Her horse was a stunning masterpiece of breeding that I would have surely excitedly asked her about if not for being at the depths of a foul mood. I swung up onto my horse, gruffly shooing away the un-welcomed help offered by the stable boy. It felt insult to injury to have any servants of the castle act like I were still a part of them in any way.

“Boy,” my aunt bellowed from her impressive stance on the imperious beast, “you will ensure that the Princess' belongings will be sent to the Golden Swallow Inn by dawn tomorrow morning.”

She gave no time for him to question or even assure that he knew where the inn was located, swinging her horse around and motioning for me to follow and leave this wretched place behind. I gladly spurred my mare into a trot behind her. I did not care if any of my things ever made it to me.

We rode in silence away from the protection of the castle walls and into the fields being toiled in the mid-morning sun. I had not really seen the servants at work, there had been no reason to view their labor and any time I had ventured outside the castle had been during their days of rest. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the sweat and dirt that seemed to cover every bit of their clothing and skin. My own skin crawled and itched just thinking about what it might feel like to be that dirty. There was a part of me that felt for them to be born into such a plight, but there was an even larger part of myself that was thankful that I would never be one of them.

“They hate the King, you know,” my aunt said suddenly, swinging her arm around her at the people pulling weeds and watering withering plants.

“But they always seem excited to see him during festivals, they throw feasts in his honor,” I countered. While I was definitely not on good terms with my father, I could not deny that every interaction I had seen between him and the people had been positive.

Aunt Mari let out a trilling laugh that seemed to carry across the fields and echoed back. The sound startled many of the serfs who looked at her with suspicious, arched eyebrows.

“Such is the guise of the so-called 'benevolent' ruler,” she tittered. “I'm sure he's thrown a breadcrumb or two their way and therefore they know they will benefit from pretending to be happy with their lot in life and ruler.” She stopped her explanation to laugh again, as if just saying the words prevented her from keeping a straight fact. “But trust me, when they lay their heads down to sleep, they feel nothing but dark, growing hate.”

“Without a ruler, they would have no guidance,” I offered. Everything I had ever been taught told me that everyday, ordinary people had little more than enough wits to know which end of the plow to hold.

“You have so very much to learn,” she mused as we began to approach what looked to be the edge of a small village. “I think we will both look back on this nasty bit of your history and consider it for the best.”

“I don't think I'll ever consider losing my position to take the throne as for the best.”

“Oh, but don't you see, there is more than one way to take the throne.”

I opened my mouth to continue the conversation, but found myself unable to reply. My brain whirred to life with the possibilities. Sure, I was only ten years old and still a child, but one day I would be older, wiser, and more powerful. It seemed like it might be a silly, far-off dream that would require challenging one of the strongest armies in existence.

“We have much time to discuss those methods,” she added, sensing my thoughtfulness on the matter. “Before any of that happens, we have much to discuss and learn.”

Stopping outside of a dirty, weather-worn looking building made of gray stone we dismounted and handed the reins of our horses to an elderly man who appeared from the attached stables. He hesitated after taking the reins, seeming to expect something from Aunt Mari, but she shoed him away and wrapped an arm around my shoulders as she guided me inside.

My eyes took a moment to adjust to the stark difference in brightness from the outdoors to the dank, foul-smelling atmosphere of the building. There was a tiny dining area with a pathetic, sliver-ridden bar, and the floor was nothing more than bare dirt sprinkled with a bit of straw. By the smell of it, I wasn't too unconvinced that the building was not a barn.

“Welcome ta the Golden Swallow,” a dirt-covered, middle-aged man welcomed from behind the bar. His hair was streaked with silver, clothes marginally better than the people we had passed in the fields, and his hands seemed to be caked in grim. “Would ja ladies be liking a room?”

Aunt Mari put on a charming smile, though she made a small sniff of disgust. “Yes, your best room,” she said with a lilting accent that made her sound even more noble, “we are members of the House Yser.”

At the mention of the house the man went pale beneath his layer of filth, the corners of his lips falling before artificially rising again. “Of course, of course, I am honored to have such regal guests,” he said with a strained voice. “I'm afraid that I must be honest in that I have no rooms fine enough for such noble blood.”

She put her hand up and flick away the thought. “Yes, yes, I am quite aware, but it will have to do.”

The man gave an uncertain incline of his head, sweat beginning to roll down his crooked nose. “I see, well if you will give me just a moment then.” Before giving either of us a chance to answer, he disappeared into the kitchen behind the bar, the door leading to it appearing to be barely attached to its hinges.

I had to agree with him, I certainly felt that the both of us were certainly above staying at such a place. I just had to trust that Aunt Mari was doing this for a reason.

Through the rickety door, we could hear the innkeeper whispering harshly to someone. “Spic and span, I tell ya! Go up to the first room and clean everything with soap!”

A chubby looking boy barely older than me came hobbling out of the door carrying a sudsy pail of water and a rag. He seemed to take no notice of us as he disappeared towards the stairs.

“Right.” The innkeeper had returned from the kitchen. “If ya would be so kind as ta allow us a few minutes to get a room ready for ya. Of course at no cost.”

Aunt Mari acknowledged him with a half-smile and motioned for us to go sit by the soot-coated fireplace. I wasn't thrilled at the idea of sitting in any of the chairs, but standing on the filthy floor was problematic in itself.

“Why are we in a place like this?” I asked, finally finding a voice to express my displeasure. “Surely there must be something better around.”

“It would not be difficult to find anything better,” she sniffed, dusting off a soot-stain that had appeared on her skirt, “but of course there is a reason for everything I do.”

“What is the reason for this?”

“Tell me what you think it is,” she challenged.

My eyes roamed over the filth around us, trying to wrack my mind for why she would bring us to something so beneath our station. It seemed counter to what she had been saying thus far.

“I don't know,” I admitted, “it seems out of place.”

She pursed her lips together in a thoughtful line and gave a nod of her head. “I suppose it is a bit to expect that you would understand seeing that your mother seemed to intentionally stunt your knowledge. Tell me, do you think the people who live in this town are good?”

It was a good question, one that I had never thought of before. I didn't seem to really care about the difference between good and evil. Of course the Kingdom was good, there were no nefarious torture rooms for those who didn't truly deserve it.

“Well the Kingdom is good, so I guess the people in it are.”

“Is the Kingdom good? What does good even mean?” She asked the questions, but the look on her face told me that she didn't really expect me to answer. “If you believe that these people are on the side of righteousness, then why do they live in such squalor?”

Another good question.

“Think about it as you experience it and ask if perhaps it is always in your best interest to be on the side of good.”

Before I had a chance to gather my thoughts to reply, the portly boy from before appeared before us. He was noticeably damp and out of breath.

“Yer room is ready, ladies,” he puffed. I could smell his breath even from a comfortable distance away.

Aunt Mari gave an acknowledging nod of her head and the boy awkwardly waddled away. I was starting to see what she meant, what had being “good” done for any of them? I would never wish to be like these people thus far.

The room, though recently cleaned, smelled and looked reasonably acceptable, but certainly didn't feel clean. While the dust and dirt from the floor and surfaces had been removed, there seemed to be a dingy haze over every surface from years of neglect that no amount of scrubbing would ever remove. Not every part of the castle had always been completely clean, but I knew for a fact that even the royal stables would have been a cleaner place to stay for the night.