The Cursed Kingdom

THIRTY-FOUR

Furkan slipped out of the carriage first, followed by a practically bouncing Evander, Henrik, and then finally myself, who nearly stumbled on the last step onto the cobblestone street when I realized just how many people there were.

Hundreds. There were at least hundreds.

"Queen Raena!" a group of teenage girls were shouting repeatedly and waving feverishly in my direction and I returned the gesture very sheepishly, my eyes scanning over each strange face.

"Long live the queen!"

"We love you!"

"Long live the king!"

"Gods blessings upon you!"

"Come," Henrik told me and wove my arm through his elbow, leading us towards the crowd while Furkan and Evander trailed behind us. I mentally thanked him for it, fully believing that if he hadn't taken charge that I'd be standing next to the carriage like a gaping fool for the rest of my life.

I pressed further against Henrik's side as we sauntered through the mass of people, feeling my face become a deep shade of red. They parted for us without hesitation, only daring to come within a yard of us as if they believed our existences would burn them; however, their excitement never ceased and it only took a few seconds for me to become overwhelmed by the endless shouting voices and the varying bright colors of their clothes. Some people were pounding on small drums made from animal skins and others whistled, either with their fingers or small, round wooden instruments. White flower petals were thrown over us and I smiled and laughed when one hit me in the face, hearing Furkan's and Henrik's deep chuckles paired with Evander's unashamed barks of laughter.

A light tug on my dress had me suddenly halting, my heart leaping in my chest with surprised anxiousness, and I turned, causing Henrik to pause and harden his grip, as if scared that if he didn't, the crowd would pull me away like a riptide and I'd never be seen again. I looked down to assess the culprit, a little girl about the same height as my bellybutton with the bottom of my dress's skirt clutched in her one hand. With curious upturned eyes residing behind thick glasses that sat on a flat nose, she was perhaps one of the most adorable creatures I'd ever seen and all I could think of was how much I wished to squeeze her large, rosy cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty!" her mother shrieked, sounding mortified as she pried the little girl's fingers off my dress, which then caused her to squeal in displeasure. "She has a genetic disorder and doesn't understand—"

I kneeled down, Henrik hesitantly letting his grasp of me go, and didn't care in the slightest if my new navy blue dress with golden embroideries, which were supposed to resemble the ones on Henrik's coat, got a speck of dirt on it. The corner of her eyes lined with unshed tears, I smiled when the little girl's gaze followed me and she went silent, nervousness settling on her round face.

Her mother slowly released the grip on her upper arm, looking completely terrified, and her eyes glowed such a bright yellow that they alone voiced her strong emotions.

"Hello there. What's your name?"

"O...Ophelia," she said shyly, looking over my face curiously while lifting her nose to sniff me. Her yellow eyes flickered up from my eyes to my crown, instantly frowning.

"What's the matter, beautiful?" I cooed. Although I knew it was a sign that she was upset, I couldn't help but find the way her bottom lip stuck out endearing.

"I made crown for you," she said sheepishly and held up between short fingers from behind her back a ring of tiny wild flowers woven together by their green stems. It was more colorful than a rainbow, all the purple, yellow, and pink flowers possessing yellow centers that were almost as bright as her eyes and green leaves that were as big as my palms. "But yours better."