Kelvin
As we arrived at the imposing Grand Palace of Juvelia, its majestic towers soared high into the sky, casting long shadows over the courtyard below. My mother's elegant gown flowed around her like a river of silk, a stark contrast to the stern expression etched upon her face as my father's disapproving gaze fell upon me.
"Did you have to dress him like that Vanessa? That's such an inappropriate color for a boy."
"Camilla is being betrothed to Lord Petrov's son, I wanted her in her lavender dress and I thought it would be nice for the twins to match." His voice, sharp as a dagger, sliced through the tense air, criticizing my mother's choice of attire for me. Their heated exchange became the backdrop of my attention as I took my sister's hand and led her to the entrance to the palace. Camilla, my ever-present twin sister, moved with a grace that belied her years. Together, we ventured forth into the heart of the palace, leaving behind the echoes of our parents' discord.
As the commotion of my parents' argument faded into the background, a familiar figure approached through the labyrinthine corridors of the palace. It was Aurora, clad in the humble garb of a servant, her face alight with a warm smile that seemed to banish the lingering tension in the air.
With a playful skip in her step, she enveloped me in a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. The scent of freshly baked cookies lingered in the air around her, mingling with the faint aroma of flour that clung to her clothing.
"Kelvin!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine delight. "I've been making cookies all day with the maids. You simply must try them!" The eager five year old couldn't contain her excitement as she jittered in front of Camilla and I. I couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, a warmth spreading through me at the sight of her infectious smile.
"Of course, Aurora," I replied. "Lead the way." Aurora took my hand and began leading the way while regaling Camilla and I with her adventures in the Kitchen good and bad. I would have to talk to mother later about the servants mistreating her...
Finally, we arrived at our destination—the opulent ballroom, adorned with shimmering chandeliers and gilded decorations fit for a king. And indeed, tonight the ballroom was to play host to a grand birthday celebration in honor of Nicolas II, the esteemed king of Juvelia and Aurora's own father.
As the festivities began in earnest, with nobles and dignitaries mingling amidst the splendor of the ballroom, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for Aurora. Despite the lavish surroundings and the facade of celebration, I knew that beneath the surface lay a painful truth—a truth that had shaped Aurora's life in ways that few could understand.
For Aurora had been dealt a cruel hand by fate, her childhood marred by tragedy and loss. Her mother, accused of treason against the crown, had been executed before her very eyes, leaving Aurora orphaned and alone in a world that had turned its back on her. And though she bore the title of princess by birth, the stain of her mother's alleged crimes couldn't be washed away so easily. Her father branded her as a bastard in the eyes of society—a mark that no amount of wealth or privilege could erase.
But despite the hardships she had endured, Aurora refused to be defined by the circumstances of her birth. With a quiet dignity that belied her years, she had carved out a place for herself within the palace walls, earning the respect and admiration of all who knew her. She was pretty remarkable for a five-year-old, especially in my eyes. Aurora was not just a princess, but a survivor, a beacon of hope in a world filled with darkness.
She was one of my best friends despite our age difference. Mother would have her come over all the time; every time she graced our house with her presence, I was assigned the task of babysitter. It was all worth it though if it brought happiness to Aurora's life.
Aurora
I gazed at the dessert table, my eyes shimmering with anticipation as I led Kelvin and Camilla toward the array of carefully crafted cookies. Each sugary morsel seemed to beckon to us, promising moments of sweet indulgence. Kelvin's smile mirrored my own, his enthusiasm evident as he reached for a cookie and promptly devoured it with gusto. Camilla, however, appeared disinterested, her demeanor betraying a hint of detachment.
"It's really good." He said with his mouth full. A figure approached, casting a shadow over our momentary bliss. The newcomer, older and with an air of formality, directed his attention to Camilla, his gaze unwavering as he addressed her.
"Camilla, our parents have just solidified our betrothal. May I have a dance?" She looked at him with uncertain eyes while Kelvin's jaw looked tense. What was a betrothal?
"Why not?" With a mixture of reluctance and acquiescence, she accepted his invitation, and they glided away onto the dance floor, leaving Kelvin and me in a sudden vacuum of awkward silence.
"Are you okay, Kelvin?" He nodded.
"It's something that's out of our control, princess," he reassured me, his tone tinged with resignation. Despite his attempt to reassure me, I couldn't shake the unease that lingered in the air between us.
"Silly Kelvin! I'm not a princess anymore!" I said, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled at me then and I took a cookie off the platter and offered it to him but he waved his hand.
"You eat it; you deserve it. You spent all day in the kitchen." There was a twinge of laughter in his voice; if he said I could eat it, why argue? I stuffed the cookie in my mouth, and Kelvin burst out laughing.
"Why are you eating the cookies?" A familiar cold tone sounded behind me; I turned my head to see my older sister, Mary. I smiled up at her with excitement, unable to speak with my mouth full. I reached into my dress pockets and pulled out a heart-shaped cookie that I had made, specially in the kitchen. When I swallowed my food, I finally said.
"I made it for you, Mary! It's cause I love you." She cocked a brow, her eyes unreadable as she took the cookie out of my hands. She sniffed it momentarily and then looked at me with a dull expression, her lips curled.
"It smells awful." She declared, her disdain evident as she tossed the cookie to the ground with callous disregard. The delicate heart shattered into irreparable pieces, mirroring the ache I felt at her rejection. I felt my lip quiver uncontrollably, and Kelvin picked me up and rubbed my back as I whimpered.
"It's okay, Aurora; please don't cry." He put me back on the ground again and kneeled while wiping the tears from my eyes. "Mary doesn't have good taste; that's why she's incapable of liking your cookie." I frowned, knowing he was only saying that to make me feel better.
"My sissy hates me."
"That's not true; she just doesn't know how to love because she's hurting inside. She's not as resilient as you are when it comes to being dealt bad hands." I searched Kelvin's eyes; I knew he'd never lie to me. "Just keep showing her you love her and little by little that bitc- um her cold heart will melt." I snorted in laughter.
"You almost said a bad word." He laughed then too and after a moment the sadness in my heart was forgotten as Kelvin led me through the ball room. He was taking me into one of the corners where the other noble children were playing.
"Hey, Fitzgilbert!" Vladimir called. "You should come play with us in the courtyard. We're going to slay a dragon!" Kelvin's eyes widened in wonder; I sensed a marvelous adventure ahead. And I wanted to join it! Kelvin joined the huddle with the rest of the boys as they planned their attack on the dragon that lived in the middle of the garden. Once all the boys had assigned posts, they began to file out into one of the halls. I followed them as they ran through the hallway.
"Wait for me, Kelvin, I've got little legs!" Kelvin stopped as did all the other boys. The boy's faces were marked with confusion while Kelvin looked uncertain. He kneeled down and whispered.
"You can't play with us, Aurora; you're a girl. Girls don't slay dragons." I furrowed my brows.
"That's not fair; I want to play too!"
"You can't." He reiterated.
"Hey Kelvin, are you coming or not?" One of the boys asked.
"I'm coming!" he called as he stood up to join the boys once more. "Go away, Aurora; I'm hanging out with the squire boys. We're going to slay a dragon in the courtyard. You can't come."
"Why!?" I asked again as I stomped my foot in frustration, but he answered again.
"You're a girl. They'll laugh if you try to play with us." With that, they all left. Amidst the grandeur of the castle, I found myself adrift in loneliness. Left behind by Kelvin, his laughter now distant as he joined the squire boys in their games, I felt a pang of abandonment. With a heavy heart, I trudged back towards the warmth of the castle kitchens.
But as I neared, the air thickened with the acrid scent of smoke, and panic seized my small frame as flames danced menacingly around the stone walls. In a heartbeat, the once-familiar castle transformed into a fiery inferno.
With no refuge in sight, my tender instincts drove me to seek solace within the castle's intricate halls. Desperation fueled my tiny legs as I scampered toward safety, my heart pounding with each step. In a stroke of luck amidst the chaos, I discovered a wooden closet, a haven from the raging blaze.
With trembling hands, I pulled the door shut, enveloped by darkness and the muffled roar of flames outside. Alone and afraid, I huddled in the cramped space, my breath hitching with every flicker of the fire's glow, praying for the dawn to break and deliver me from the clutches of peril.
Hours passed in the suffocating darkness of the closet, time measured only by the steady rhythm of my frightened breaths. Suddenly, a soft, silky voice pierced the silence like a whisper from the shadows.
"It's alright little one, come out," it beckoned, sweet and alluring, promising safety amidst the chaos. Confusion mingled with hope as I hesitated, unsure of the voice's origin. Yet, the allure of safety outweighed my fear, and with trembling limbs, I pushed open the closet door.
Before me stood a figure; she had long raven hair and piercing green eyes as she stood by the flickering glow of flames. "Come," the voice urged, gentle yet insistent, like a guiding hand in the midst of turmoil.
With hesitant steps, I ventured towards the mysterious figure, drawn by the promise of refuge. As I reached out, her hands enveloped me, lifting me from the rubble with a surprising warmth. And so, carried by the strange woman, I emerged from the wreckage, the scent of smoke clinging to my clothes as a reminder of the chaos left behind. Though uncertainty still lingered like a shadow, I found solace in the arms cradling me as we emerged from the chaos and smoke that was once my home.