ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅᴇᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ❅ 𝕽𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖘

❝𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 6❞

K02 ‖ Lords of Time: Temporal Efficiency

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕲𝖚𝖎𝖉𝖊:
Italic words — the thoughts of a character / a foreign language is spoken
Bold and italic words — a lie, only when Princess Caitlyn's around
Bold, italic and underlined words — the timeline of memories, past, hallucinations etc.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Year 2039
Ever Realm Academy, Elderbourne Isle

Second-born. Only child. Youngest child.

Protected from the world of mistreatment and tragedy. The ones most precious to their birth givers, their older siblings and their family. Pampered to the point where they know no pain nor abuse that their older sibling suffered in silence. They could only see the successes the first-borns claimed as fruits of their concealed labors.

What could the shielded children know of the expectations and heavy responsibilities that the older ones carry on their shoulders? What could the young ones know of torture that taught the first-borns the art of emotional concealment?

Nothing.

They know nothing about the lives their older siblings lead behind their stage of glory.

The glory that they wished they had a chance to taste.

Regardless, they surged forward. One was born to a family less noble and the other two was born into a house built by old customs. That didn't stop them from fighting against the old and ancient.

The lowly one was soon recognized as the future crown princess of an empire in the north. The second-born appeared in all forms of media, fulfilling her duties by greeting the world with sweet smiles befitting of a traditional princess of an old clan. The youngest grew to be kinder and more empathetic than her ruthless, strict and apathetic older siblings who claimed the masses with their strength and tenacity while the people fawned over her soft and calm nature.

These were the tastes of success that they dreamed of having. The glorious feeling of recognition and acceptance.

Now, staring in the mirror of the ladies' privy, the trio could only feel humiliation, misfortune and hatred. Brushes dapped their cheeks, concealing the flushes of anger and humility on their faces, not a word uttered to each other. Eyes trained forward at the reflection that glared back at them.

Some of the royals they met shared their fates of being the only child and not being the one born first.

Yet they lead fairly different lives.

Megara of Greece was born a princess, to a queen who named her heir to the throne. Caitlyn of Norway, second-born, a girl and yet destined to rule as the future monarch and beloved by all who laid their eyes on her. Marioara of Romania, third-born and youngest of her mother's children but led a life of fame and leadership.

While tradition were their chains and shackles, it hardly weighed them down unlike it did to these girls. Living lives of glory and praise while some who shared their fates were crushed under societal norms.

Tradition were their rules, tradition as their shrouds worn to protect them from prying eyes of beast-like men. Garments woven by ancient customs could have been their armor and not a remembrance of their fate, if not for their hurt towards words of criticism that masked their parents' worries and woes.

There is always a fine line in fate and destiny.

Bad experiences can make one stronger and also break another into pieces.