Mila Kunis as Kedua
***
Oh my god it stinks in this realm. Not stinks as in it's terrible, but literally stinks. Of waste and exhaust fumes and pollution and death. But it's better than The Throne, which will be forever mine if I were to stay in my own realm for any amount of time.
But being royalty isn't so bad, is it? I mean, most girls would kill to be a princess, would they not?
Well, I would rather be a slave to a family of putrid ogres than be married to that royal, narcissistic psychopath, who wants nothing more with me than to use me to make children and hear me scream in agony as my wings are ripped off.
My poor, life ruining wings. They are the beloved drug-addict that the family can't bear to put in rehab.
Why are they so bad? Well, apart from the fact that they get stuck in the doorway more often than not, they contain four goddamn colours, evidence of my 'cross-court heritage'. You see, my dear parents were madly in love and didn't consider the consequences of having a child, a Light and Dark child, who would be forever controlled by the Royal Families, or else shunned by her own kind. They did however, hide me for 17 years before I was discovered.
~~FLASHBACK~~
"WHERE IS IT?" demanded General Chanselor.
"Where is what?" Father replied cooly.
"YOU KNOW WHAT. THE CROSS-BREED." he spat. "WHERE IS IT?"
The King's military-grade 'personal guard' (a.k.a personal assasin who does all his dirty work), had smashed through our front door mere seconds after my mother and I had hidden in the bunker, and was now red as a poppy.
"I don't understand, Sir," father said, "Just because I live with a Dark fairy doesn't mean I slept with her!" he chuckled, implying that the thought was ridiculous. Pfft.
"Well," Chanselor said quietly, "You know very well the laws around Darks and Lights. Only mates of different races can be together, and we both know you two aren't mates. And anyway, all Mids are to go to the Royal Family to either be wedded to a prince or princess, or as servants. The act of denying this law is an act of treason, and do you know what the punishment for treason is? "
Father gulped.
"Death." The General said, and then stabbed him smoothly, calmly through his lung. My mother gasped and sobbed at the sudden, sickening sound of a dagger entering my father, followed by a thump as his breathless, cooling body hit the ground.
And, as if by some sick joke, the way that my father's body hit the ground opened up the trapdoor.
Oh.
Crap.
