Despite Myself

      I have been called many things in my life. Bastard, witch, vampire, evil. But as of today, I will be called a queen. Despite how I got here, I will be crowned the Queen of Estana before the sun sets on this day. I look at my reflection with my mother over my shoulder. Her lips are turned in their permanent frown as she sets my hair the way she likes. My father was the king, but my mother was not his queen. The queen was unable to bear children and that upset the king. Nineteen years ago, he turned to my mother for comfort and nine months after that, I was born. The queen tried to get pregnant as if her life depended on it. It never happened. She hates my mother and me. When the king grew ill, he named me the next queen. After that, she hated us even more. My father passed two weeks ago.  

           “Must you wear black? It’s your coronation. Traditionally, the heir to the throne wears red,” my mother says quietly. I look at her in the mirror.

           “There is nothing traditional about me. Why pretend?” I reply.

           “Still… must it be black?”

           “I am grieving,” I mutter.

           “Give it a rest, Rowan. It’s pathetic,” she snaps and walks away from me.

I stare at myself and say nothing. My dark auburn hair and ice blue eyes are my father’s. There was never any denying me on his part, and he never tried. My father wasn’t the best king. He was a tyrant at times. But he loved me. I never doubted that. He made sure I knew it every day. He always told me I was the best thing he ever did in his life.

“Here,” my mother interrupts my thoughts, holding a gold necklace with rubies up to me. “You should have some red.”

“Thank you,” I nod. She puts it on for me and then rests her arms on my shoulders. “I’m scared,” I admit. She lifts her chin at me. Her blonde locks are pulled back, making her face tighter than usual.

“You are a queen now, Rowan. You never admit when you are afraid,” she tells me. I look down and play with the beads on my dress. “A true queen knows how to turn pain into power, Rowan. It’s something Ivelle could never do. She let pain break her down and because of that, she lost her crown. Do not make the same mistake,” she warns me, walking away again. I watch her walk to the door before snapping.

“Mother,” I blurt out. She looks back at me. “We will show her kindness. I will not let you bully her just because she is no longer a queen.”

She says nothing and leaves the room, leaving me utterly alone. The only sound is that of the fire crackling and the wind outside. The wind’s howl sings a somber song and the fire is like a drummer boy, marching along, leading an army to war. When I close my eyes, I can almost feel the wind move me. My body is only a hollow shell, making it sway with ease. I get lost in my own head; I don’t even hear the door open. When the guard clears his throat, I jump, opening my eyes and turning to face him. His friendly and familiar smile puts me at ease.

“Steele,” I sigh.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to see you before the ceremony.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I smile and walk closer to him. He closes the door and opens his arms to me. I crash into him on the verge of tears. “I don’t know what I am going to do, Steele.”

“What do you mean? You know what you have to do. You have been training for this all your life. Your father knew it would always be you,” he shakes his head. I take him in for a moment. His chestnut waves and hazel eyes are warm and inviting.  

“I am a bastard. Anyone who has ever seen me thinks I am a witch or vampire. They think I’m some evil being here to destroy Estana,” I whimper. He holds my face in his hands.

“It would help if you saw the sun, Rowan,” he chuckles.

“Are you saying I look like an evil vampire or witch?” I ask playfully.

“Of course not. I’m saying you’re as radiant as the moon and it is unworldly,” he says softly and caresses my cheek. His smile fades and he sighs. “I am so excited for you, Rowan. Truly.”

“But?”

“But I fear losing you. I won’t lie… it was easier before. We were just two bastards, running the castle past curfew. There was no harm in the kisses I used to steal. Doing that now could call for the loss of my head,” he tells me.

“I would never let that happen.”

“What are we going to do? I can’t marry you. There is no way the church would agree to a marriage between a queen and a guard,” he grumbles.

“Maybe not if I was born to a king and queen… but I was born to a servant. Not even a noble woman. I will do whatever I must. You have my word,” I beam at him. He smiles sadly.

“I’ll never have the money to spoil you with jewels or dresses,” he says.

“Spoil me with loyalty, Steele. I can finance myself,” I scoff and back away from him. His hands drop to his sides. “Will you be there? At the ceremony?” I ask.

“I will,” he grins. “I switched patrol assignments with another guard.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t there,” I whisper. He steps closer and kisses my cheek.

“I will always be here. I’ll see you out there.”

I watch him go, as always. It’s ironic; the way he says he’ll always be here, right before leaving. Every time. My heart is only ever full with him near. I’ve always had him, for as long as I can remember. His father served mine and for that reason, my father let Steele live at court. It was one of the few times my father was kind to someone other than me.

The time comes for the ceremony. I make my way to the throne room and wait in the hall outside. Everyone is already inside the doors, waiting. Everyone except Ivelle. My father’s last request of her is that she would precede me to show her support. He said it should symbolize her handing the crown over to me. She comes walking down the hall not long after me. Her dress is also black, but she isn’t wearing any jewelry.

“You look beautiful,” I say quietly. She comes to my side and looks down her nose at me.

“Interesting choice of color for the next queen of Estana. Still grieving? Even on the day dedicated to you?” she asks snidely.

“It may be a day for celebrations… but my heart is heavy. He was my father, Ivelle. Of course, I am still grieving him,” I shake my head. Her expression softens as tears fill my eyes. She steps closer, making me tense.

“Show no pain today, Rowan. You can always be the storm… but in front of your people, you must look like the calm before it,” she whispers. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth hard and nod. Music sounds from inside the doors. Ivelle stands in front of me, lifting her chin. “Chin up, child. Even when the crown is heavy,” she says as the doors open.

She starts walking and keeps her head up the entire time. I follow behind. At first, I keep my eyes forward and show nothing on my face. I can hear the whispers and each one hurts as much as the last.

“Her skin looks like ice… vampire,”

“She even looks evil,”

“No bastard should sit on the throne,”

Halfway down the aisle, I drop my head for a moment as I walk. It takes everything in me to lift it again, but this time, with a smile. I look around at the faces and do my best to smile warmly at them. The surprise on their faces is enough to keep me going. When we reach the end of the aisle, Ivelle walks off to the right and stands, facing the prayer bench where I kneel.

The Pope opens with prayer and anoints me. I think about the surprise that must be going through some people’s heads. If I was evil, wouldn’t I be rejecting holy oil and the Pope’s touch? I wish it was enough to stop the rumors here and now, but I know that isn’t how it works in court. As the ceremony continues, I recite vows and find my mind slipping away, only to be called back when it’s my turn to do something.

After what feels like forever, I am presented with a document and ink. I sign my name and look up at the Pope. He turns back around with the gold crown in his hands. Turn my eyes down as he puts it on my head. When he steps away, I stand and turn to the court. My eyes skim the faces until I find Steele along the back wall. He winks and smiles at me, making heat rise to my cheeks. I look at my mother in the front. She nods at me.

“God save the Queen,” the Pope says. Everyone repeats him as they bow. I tun back to the Pope. “Long may you reign,” he says quietly, only to me. I smile and bow my head to him. Trumpets sound, which is my cue to leave. Everyone bows until I pass them. Steele is the last one before the door. We meet eyes and my blush grows.

“Be sure to save me the last dance tonight,” he whispers as I walk out the doors. I look down and smile as I turn the corner.

Later that night at the feast, I am invited to dance by nobles and other royals, all looking for a wife. I smile, dance, and drink. I do everything I was taught to do, but I do not entertain the proposal of marriage from any man. Once everyone has had their turn, I finally return to my seat.

“You’ve been busy,” Ivelle scoffs as I sit.

“Everyone is looking for a wife,” I growl.

“But you’re not looking for a husband,” she grins, looking over at me knowingly. “At least not anyone here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Spare me, Rowan. I know about you and the bastard guard. Anyone with eyes knows. Don’t worry. If it came to it… I would support it.”

“Because it would lead to my downfall?” I hiss. She looks over at me, surprised.

“No… not at all. I would support it because I know what it’s like to marry someone you don’t love and it’s not something I would wish on anyone. It makes your duties as a woman much harder if you don’t love the man you have to lay with,” she says firmly. I look out at the floor. Beyond the people dancing, I see my mother lurking in the shadows, heading for the door.

“Please, excuse me,” I mutter as I stand to go to her.

I brush past people, ignoring their fake pleasantries and reach my mother just in time, grabbing her wrist. She turns on me, eyes on fire.

“Where are you going?” I demand. “It’s my feast. You’re really trying to leave?”

“I have no reason to stay,” she spits. I don’t even try to hide the hurt on my face.

“It’s a feast to celebrate your daughter, the queen.”

“Don’t do this here, Rowan. You do not need me to be here. Don’t pretend you want me here,” she says with ice in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t I want you here? You’re my mother,” I whimper.

“I’m not your mother!” she shouts, making everyone stop and turn to us. The musicians stop too. The room falls completely silent. Her chest rises and falls as she breathes angrily. Her eyes are wide with fury.

“What did you just say?” I question. My voice is barely a whisper.

“I said,” she says loud and strong. “I am not your mother.”

“Lydia!” Ivelle snaps from across the room. She is standing now and working her way over to us. “Do not say another word,” she orders.

“If you’re not my mother… than who is? Is it Ivelle?” I shake my head. She looks at me with disgust.

“Your mother is a queen… just not that one,” she answers.

“Then who is it? What other queen is there?”

“Don’t answer that!” Ivelle screams, stepping between me and who I thought was my mother. “Do not say a thing,” she warns. Everyone is staring at us, but I don’t care.

“Who is my mother?” I demand.

“Let’s just say… you may not be queen of one country… but possibly two,” my mother says as she backs away.

Ivelle glares daggers at her. She looks like she could kill. My mother looks at the people gawking at us, which is the entire court and its guests, before leaving. I look to Ivelle. I feel like all the blood has drained from my face.

“What is she talking about?” I whimper. Ivelle looks around and takes a deep breath.

“We need to talk, Rowan… just not here. This could call for a war,” she tells me.

I search her face for something. Anything. The only thing I see is fear. Complete and utter fear.