aurora | 1952

07

November 14th, 1952

I try to ignore my hammering heart as I look back and forth from the couple, to the photo, and back to the couple. My eyebrows furrow, and I numbly turn to a maid who is rushing to my side.

"Are you alright, M'lady?" She gives a small tilt to her head as she taps my shoulder. I nod back to her without expression, my eyes blank. Before I know it, the Queen is taking my hand and ushering me off, and I just barely catch another glimpse of the photo before we turn the corner.

Percy and the Queen ramble on, but I block them out as I stare straight ahead down the corridor. I might not know a lot about executions, sure, but I know well enough that this isn't normal. Butlers and maids scurry about the halls, obviously gawking at the royalty as they walk by. They even look at me.

"Isn't that right, Aurora?" My daze breaks and I look up at the King, stammering.

"Is.. wh- excuse me?" I try not to snarl at the pompous grin on his face.

"We were talking about your suitor. Isn't it so that you are meeting them next week?" My heart skips a beat. Not only am I being forced into this family, but I have responsibilities? And a new family?

Then it clicks.

My mother was always in awe of the royalty. That's where we were different. She told me stories of how she would stay up nights before my birth, unkempt by the fact she just couldn't think of a name for me. The next day, the town booms with the recent birth of Princess Aurora. And my mom just knew that name was right for me.

Possibly not the best choice.

With every step, I see more pictures that are almost like mirrors. My hands shake as we pass portrait after portrait of me.

"The ones coming from France, Germany," Percy lists the suitors I'm meant to meet one after the next, and all Florence does is smile. A mere smile for all the hell she's about to put me through.

Finally, the King halts his lecture. Instinctively, I turn to him, wondering what in the world could've ever stopped his arrogance.

"Well, this is farewell. I will see you ladies after the speech." He gives a weak shake of his hand and continues his patrol, leaving me, once again, with Florence. I awkwardly look up at her, not receiving so much as a blink back. I jump at the sound of a door suddenly opening beside us. Unsteadily, I follow the Queen in.

The smell of flowery fragrance is an instant smack in the face. Ladies freshen themselves all about the room, some getting dressed, some just practicing hobbies or lounging around. I stupidly stare at each, questioning how the hell I got here.

Florence instantly leaves my side, obviously expecting me to be familiar with this type of atmosphere. Little does she know.

"Aurora! Aurora!" An obnoxious voice callas my name.

A maid approaches me, and without a second thought, brings me to a chair sitting in front of a full-length mirror. I slowly sit down into the, shockingly comfortable chair, glancing up at the maid who is already curling my hair. She smacks her gum, and I'm quite honestly shocked by how some people here are treating their work. Not that I disapprove, I've clearly seen worse where I live.

"You've 'gotcha speech all ready, kid?" My mouth slightly gapes, but I quickly reassemble. I've got to remember this is an act.

"Yep, I mean, yes, ma'am." I try not to cringe at my poor composure, but she just smiles for a second, then continues her work, chewing her gum so close that I squirm.

꧁꧂

My so-called mother picks me up after my makeover, leading me out of the room, almost in a hurry. I look up at her, confused.

"Your speech is in 10 minutes, Aurora." I gulp. I had just been hoping that woman was up the wall.

"Mother-" I wince at my words, sounding foreign and fake. "I simply can't speak this afternoon. I'm.. hysterical!" With my faux pompous voice, my explanation sounds more like a question. Luckily, the hesitation only adds to my act.

"You'll do fine, sweetheart."

"But I'm not sure if.."

She turns to face me. "You'll do fine." Her voice is heavily laced with venom, so much so that it sends a chill to my spine. I nod, looking back at my feet. We keep walking silence, and I awkwardly look up at Florence now and then. Her eyes stay dead straight ahead, but I can tell she knows I'm humbled. We approach an enormous set of doors, similar to the entrance. Florence holds up a finger to the guards, and they stop struggling with the door. Her eyes flick over to mine, and she kneels down, taking my hands. I purse my lips and look around, but her eyes stay on mine.

"Remember, you'll do fine."

It almost sounds like a threat.

At that, the doors open, and the sun blinds us for a second before revealing the familiar crowd. A small balcony emerges from the door, and a microphone sits. From here, you can almost see the entire wealthy area of town. My heart leaps. I've never really liked heights.

Hands shaking, I'm almost pushed onto the landing, Percy and some boy waiting there. Everyone has a straight face other than Percy, who has a small tug to his lips. I roll my eyes and lean against the wall, looking over to the blonde kid. He nods, giving a sympathetic smile. I blink away, annoyed by my own lack of confidence.

Percy walks up to the microphone, and it makes a bang across the loudspeakers, earning a quiet chatter from the crowd. He clears his throat, glaring over to a guard. "Hello, people of Newmoor. We thank you for joining us this afternoon, and  we promise that we will keep searching for more information attached to the King's parish. As your new King, I thank you for your discretion. For now, we will not be changing much." I look around, apparently the only one hearing the tone in his voice. "Now, if you will, please direct your attention to Oscar Blair Rowan."

The boy cautiously stands, his eyes quickly looking at Percy. Ah, of course. He must be my brother.

"May he rest in peace." Oscar nods, and backs away back onto the wall. A piece of stress is taken away from me. That's all he had to say? Maybe I will do fine.

"And now from Aurora Annabelle Rowan," I blankly wait for someone to walk up to the mic, until Florence nudges my side. My throat hitches with embarrassment. I blink twice, and hesitantly stand to the mic.

"He.. will be missed." I inhale sharply, almost audible in the speakers. My face turns tomato red as I go back to the wall, ignoring both the Queen's and Oscar's stares. Hot tears threaten my eyes, not even because I'm upset. Just thoroughly humiliated.

The Queen, at last, breaks her gawk to do her 'speech.' I purse my lips, cussing internally at myself, almost wondering if straight to the guillotine would've been the better choice.