A girl in disguise. An heir in hunt. A world divided.
Iris Lavera is born into the civilization of the least respected ones. The lineage where it's predicted to birth a curse. A low born who will be the downfall of an entire nation if left alive.
...
I know I know, it's been long and I am a terrible person. But hear me out! Viviana here, that is I- just got selected to be a part of wattpad creators program and I have been sitting on this amazing information for like more than a month now. When I received the invite I HAD to take a step back and look at my works- and like, really look at it and try to understand how I should be approaching it with utter seriousness since I have been given such opportunity. I did not want this to go to waste. So now I feel ready to come out of my shell and work for it.
Crown of curse is now the project I will exclusively devote my focus to and I really hope you will be here to help me with the journey.
Thanks for immense patience of yours. And please do refer last chapter to understand this one better. The updates will be frequent from now on.
Really true this time.
P.s unedited (will be edited soon)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You.
Sometime in future. You.
'Possessive with the idea of owning your secrets and at some time in future.You'
These are the scrapes of his intention and the twisted confession that stay with me as we descend the cliff and blend into the city. He hasn't uttered a word after such plaguing remark, and neither have i. The sun melts into the roofs of houses and there are floral drawings on doors and windows of almost every inn and tavern, and where there isn't- a burst of bushes and vines ornaments the stone walls. It spirals and hangs like curly ribbons as kids play with it- reaching for flowers and fruits. Adults buy from vendors and there are so many kinds of fruits and flowers that I hadn't heard about or seen.
It will always remain a gaping wound in me to not be able to forget or forgive what had been taken from us. This village was what's everything in opposition to a wasteland, it's an agricultural fort of Antar. The fort of verdant. It supplies the nutritional source to the whole of realm, and as I walk with closed steps I could feel the energy suppressed in the soil that's a catalyst to how quickly the crop grows within its territory.
A seed sowed today, the sprout that greets tomorrow.
The fort is welcoming, and if what the map implements are true- it's a mere two-day journey from Verdant to Esseth. We are near - he to his home and I, to know the fate of my people.
Sometime in future. You.
The checkered scarf is wrapped around his neck and mouth, his disguise was effortless since he barely tries to hide, and surprisingly-he compounds fairly with all the other merchants and travellers, and on the other hand it takes me hours worth to morph into the freckled, blonde and pale adolescent in time which had caused a prime to shift. The Ezdan has faded into the cold and brooding self once I stepped out from the tree that provided me with privacy to take my impetus stimulant and work on my hair while I wait leisurely for the tonic to dense my features.
