Once upon a time In a kingdom called Destopia, where dragons napped in gutters and witches sold love potions like cheap wine, there lived a king. He was powerful, rich, and bald enough that sunlight reflected off his scalp like a second sun.
But he had one problem: his daughter, Levera, refused to get married.
Levera wasn't the gentle, swooning princess bards sang about. She was the kind of princess who would drown a suitor in the moat if he dared call her "beautiful." When her father begged her to marry, she laughed and declared:
"I'll marry when the sun burns the moon, when hell freezes over-
and when Leon's dick finally grows longer."
Leon, her younger brother and heir to the throne, was unfortunate enough to overhear this. He would've fought her on the spot if the Queen-terrifying, sharp-handed, and capable of smacking the jaw off a knight-hadn't been away.
So the siblings were free to insult each other.
"Wow," Levera sneered at Leon, "I'd expect you to glow up by now, but you're still ugly."
Leon smirked. "Funny. You look like a princess, a frog, and a beast had a three-way and regretted it."
"At least I don't resemble a horse that lost a fight with a bulldog."
"Maybe that's why you're getting married in two days."
"...What?" Levera froze.
Leon grinned. "Ask Father yourself."
And off she ran.
The King, naturally, had locked himself in the throne room to avoid her wrath. Levera considered smashing the door with a hammer, but instead stormed into the marketplace. If her father wanted her married, fine. She'd handle it herself.
Her gaze landed on a platinum-blonde beauty-sharp jawline, delicate face, taller than most, with the cursed good looks of a man who could be mistaken for a woman.
"You," Levera barked.
The stranger blinked. "...Me?"
"Would you like to marry me?"
"...What?"
"I said: marry me. Name?"
"Uh... Desmond?"
"Perfect. Desmond, I'll pay you five hundred Destopias a month if you marry me. Now say yes."
Desmond thought: She's clearly insane. But she's rich. And I'm broke. Free money, free castle? Why not.
"...Alright. When's the wedding?"
"Now."
And so, Levera married Desmond before the sun set, dragging him home to present to her stunned father. The King, bound by his own rules, had no choice but to accept. He gifted them a castle.
Thus began their happily ever after.
Except... weeks later, Levera realized something.
"Yo, hubby," she said, barging into Desmond's room.
"Mm," Desmond hummed lazily, sipping something unholy while bathing in a tub full of gold coins.
"We've never had our wedding night."
Desmond choked. "...What?"
Levera smirked, already stripping him. "Why do you always make me repeat myself?"
But the smirk vanished.
"WHAT THE HELL-YOU'RE A GIRL?!"
Desmond-no, she-covered herself. "...Sorry, I forgot to mention that."
"You FORGOT to mention you're a woman?!"
"Well-"
"Don't bother. I don't blame you. I blame myself."
Levera stormed off, furious and humiliated.
The Queen returned shortly after.
"My darling," she said sweetly, "you look glum. Haven't you been eating well? Where's your husband?"
Levera nearly cracked. "...She'll be here soon."
"She?"
"...Nothing. Tea?"
Desmond entered then, smiling politely.
The Queen froze, her teacup shattering in her hands. Tears welled in her eyes. "...Delila?"
Levera frowned. "...Who's Delila?"
"My long-lost daughter!" the Queen sobbed, embracing Desmond. "I thought you were dead! How I've missed you!"
"...WHAT."
"That's right," the Queen crooned, "your husband is your sister."
"...FUCK ME," Levera groaned.
"No thanks," said Desmond-Delila-awkwardly.
But the Queen wasn't done.
"There's one more thing, darling..."
"Don't."
"...You were actually born a boy. I had a witch change your gender because the King wanted a daughter."
Levera collapsed to the floor. "...You're all insane."
She staggered out of the castle, drained. No more family. No more lies. Just silence.
Until-
The thunder of hooves.
She turned too late. Twelve horses and three carriages trampled her into the dirt.
And that was the end of Levera Dunday.
Some say her ghost still roams Destopia, muttering insults, searching for a sibling to fight.
THE END
