The Hidden Secret of Sharath[Rewritten version]

Chapter 1

The Beginning

Once upon a time in Nevuru, in the kingdom of Sharath, there lived a very kind and affectionate king and queen. The Queen's skin was softly pink and gently blushing with some rosy dawn; she had long dark hair like a raven with a white plume on it. Her ears were long, elegantly curved like those of a siren as if listening for each note of the sea's symphony with which her earlobes flushed crimson adding an air of ethereal attraction to her already enchanting presence On the other hand, the eyes of the King sparkled with such an icy brilliancy that they reminded one of ice crystals, clear and bright under lights from high latitudes or sometimes northern skies while his blue hair looked like waves at sea when it is calm; this coloring reflects how deep oceans can be on quiet days contrasting sharply against his skin which is as tough as rock found on mountains.

The King and Queen have two kids one has the same hair color as the Queen but his skin is like that of the King while the king's daughter has that pristine white akin to the untouched purity of freshly fallen snow while her eyes are blue as the skies and as the day sets in the young prince wakes up and cover his eyes with bright white cloth due to his powers then the maids knocks at the young prince and the maids comes in.

"Prince Michael... it's your daily walk around the kingdom are you prepared?" The maid asked the young prince with a soft voice,

"Yes I'm ready to thank you, Miss Head of the maids, I hope that the reporters won't notice me again." Prince Michael said with a sigh to the maid that he was very annoyed with the reporters asking him a lot of questions,

"I'm sorry young master but you know we can't push them away since they are our citizens and Your father wants the world to know you." The maid said trying to calm down the young prince so he won't get stressed over the reporters,

"....Can you leave for now." Prince Michael said kindly to the maid

Alone after the maid's curt departure, Michael finally removed the blindfold. A jolt shot through him as he glimpsed a wounded little girl huddled outside his window, her matted hair plastered to her forehead with grime. Panic momentarily gripped him, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. But resolve took hold. He quickly shielded his eyes again, then rushed to the girl's aid. With gentle movements, practiced from years of tending to his hidden injuries, he lifted her frail form and hurried back to the palace. The weight of her tiny body felt immense in his arms, a stark contrast to the emptiness that had become his constant companion. Determined to mend her injuries, and fueled by a surge of unexpected protectiveness, Michael navigated the opulent corridors, the plush carpets muffling his hurried steps.

Rushing through the labyrinthine halls, Michael cradled the frightened young girl in his arms. The moment he emerged, panicked maids surrounded them. With practiced efficiency, they whisked the little girl away from the prince, hurrying her toward the clinic where the royal healers awaited.

"Fear not, Your Majesty," soothed Miss Ann, her voice a balm against the rising tide of Michael's worry. "The child will recover fully."

Michael offered a grateful smile to the maid whose magical touch had mended the little girl's injuries. News of the king's intervention had already reached the royal ears, prompting the queen and him to visit the palace clinic.

"My dearest," the queen began, her smile as warm as a summer's day, "Amari informed me of your act of compassion. Rescuing the child was a noble deed. However, we must strive to reunite her with her kin."

A flicker of concern crossed Michael's face. "Of course, Mother. I must ensure the safety of my people. But the circumstances of her injury..." he trailed off, his voice laced with a hint of unease. "I found her wandering towards the palace, already hurt."

Queen Maria's gaze lingered on the sleeping child, a furrow etching itself onto her brow. "Migo," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "do you think there's a chance... she was harmed by those who should have protected her?"

King Migo, his concern evident in his eyes, met his wife's gaze. "Maria, my love," he said, reaching for her hand. "I fear your suspicion might be right. Returning her without knowing the truth could be a grave mistake."

Maria sighed, the weight of the decision settling on her shoulders. "I understand, Migo," she conceded, a hint of resignation in her voice. "Very well. We shall keep her for now, but we must tread carefully. Unraveling the truth without causing further distress to the child will be paramount."

A flicker of movement stirred their attention. The little girl's eyelids fluttered open, revealing large, questioning eyes. "Where am I?" she mumbled, her voice raspy with sleep.

The weight of their predicament settled upon the king and queen as they exchanged a silent glance. The little girl's arrival had brought more than just a guest; it presented a mystery demanding their attention, one with the potential to reshape their lives forever. A flicker of movement caught Michael looking toward the little girl, her amethyst curls framing a face alight with curiosity, had finally awoken. Her eyes, the color of a soft pink pearl held captive, sparkled with a question yet to be formed. Just then, across the vastness of the grand hall, a vision emerged from the throng of courtiers. Michael's breath hitched. There, bathed in the soft glow of chandeliers, stood his half-sister, Yura. Her beauty was arresting a stark contrast to the vibrant tapestry of the court. Her hair, the color of pristine snow untouched by a single footprint, cascaded down her back in shimmering waves. 

Each strand seemed to hold the light, radiating an ethereal purity. Her eyes, the color of a summer sky on the clearest day, held an enigmatic depth that mirrored the mysteries of the distant horizon. The contrast between her ethereal beauty and the bustling court only served to heighten her other worldly presence.