*this is being rewritten off wattpad until I finish a good portion of it, so apologizes for the unedited stuff*
The Evil Queen was once a teenage girl that dared to hope.....
~
When the night of the Grand Ball takes a turn for the wo...
The shadows faded away as I appeared in the landing pad of Asyrien Palace. Guards opened their mouths to yell- and then realized who I was, before stumbling over to bow.
Refraining from rolling my eyes, I marched down the halls and right before I reached the throne room, let a subtle glamour wash over my features, repolishing them and making me seem more collected and cold.
Two guards opened the ice blue doors and I stepped into the room that gave birth to my nightmares. The throne room was as cold as I remembered it to be.
Curtains of gossamer draped the wide, open windows. Ice glittered everywhere- from small trinkets to the clothing of the Court. I ignored the curious and/or awed stares for the Court and pinned my gaze solely on my father.
The High King barely spared me a glance as I approached the throne. Like me, he was lean and muscular, his dark brown hair and eyes merciless and calculating. A crown made of ice and jewels adorned his head. He might had been handsome, if he smiled.
But luck was not on my side today, as the High King dismissed everyone at Court but me. As the lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses filed out, I sank down on one knee, staring at the elaborate designs of the carpet below my feet.
"Rise, my boy," My father said, but there was nothing close to affection in his voice.
"Why have you summoned me here?" I asked him, my eyes meeting his cold gaze. What malice I saw in there made me shift my gaze. He had been getting worse since my mother's death, grief and sorrow ate away his humanity.
My father chuckled coldly, "There is talk, you see, of a knew heir." My stomach hollowed out and I couldn't stop my eyes from narrowing, "What do you mean?" I snapped angrily.
To his credit, my father replied without any smugness or victory in his tone, "Mikael and Jordan have officially declared you misfit for my crown in front of the entire Winter Court. Do you understand what this means?"
I would have to fight to the death to regain the right to rule. "Yes."
My father ran his fingers over his face, "Paris, two sides of me are in conflict. The father part of me tells me that you should step down. I already lost your mother, I can' t lose you or your brothers too. The king part of me tells you that a true ruler must fight. Blood must be shed." He looked at me, his Adam's apple bobbling, "So, Prince, what will it be? Will you accept the challenge to your throne?"
I thought back to the letter Elsa wrote me.
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Paris, It was never my intention to leave so abruptly, but duty calls, right? Last night.... last night, I acted out of character, and for that, I apologize. I was just so overcome by grief that I needed to distract myself. I realize that I am a true coward- I want to say this to you face to face, but I'm too afraid of your reaction. Paris, I love you. Always have, always will. I fell in love with the way you smiled, ever so rarely, and your laugh made me swoon. But my favorite part about you, Paris? It is your bravery and your courage. You protect the ones you love dearly, and I love you for that. You WILL make a great ruler one day, and no matter what, you'll never disappoint me.
With all my broken heart,
Elsa
And then, I had my answer. "I accept the challenge to the Winter Realm throne," I said to my father, looking him straight in the eye.
