The Princess of War
'So, You want to know my secret Marisol?'
The question resounded in her mind. She wished she had never said yes. Actually, she wished that she had never gone poking around, trying to figure out why this was all happening to her. She wanted to laugh at her own stupidity but it was impossible. She was choking on her own blood, so laughing would prove far too difficult.
Marisol lay on the floor, her artery shoddily severed, and only a quick and painful death awaited. She never saw it coming. She was too shocked by what she had discovered to realise the piece of wire being delicately placed around her neck. In one swift motion, everything became hazy. The cut felt like a pinch that turned into utter agony as she looked at the blood pouring onto her cream dress.
Now, curled up on the floor, her only thought was on Valentina. Who was going to warn Valentina not to go searching for answers? Marisol realised that her death would not stop the alliance. The alliance between the kingdoms of Arendere and Vargon was going to happen. She was replaceable. Valentina hated this life, but she would have to leave her warrior roots behind and take Marisol's place.
Valentina was going to have to take her place in the line of succession. She would have to wed the Prince of Arendere, a man known for his charm, sarcasm and seductive nature. The consequences would be dire. Marisol knew that the Prince of Arendere would meet his match in Valentina. They were cut from the same cloth and dangerous sparks were bound to fly. When she finds out what in in store for her, she will not go quietly. She knew her sister and she loved to ask questions. Those questions would be the death of her. Even gods can die Valentina. They had killed Marisol, and now they would kill the next heir to the Vargon Kingdom oh, but Valentina was so much more. She was the future for us all.
As Marisol succumbed to the darkness, her last thought was:
Valentina, don't trust my mother, do not trust the Queen.