"Sage Marie Mary,
You Are A Witch,"
Sage Marie Mary, The Future Queen Of England, Receives A Letter From An Owl Telling Her That She Was Never Going To Be As Normal As She Hoped.
OR -
Sage Marie Mary, in all her 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙡 glory didn't stand a chan...
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"But without the dark, we'd never see the stars." — T H E Q U E E N S D I S M A Y —
Those next two months were the longest of Sage's life. Her mother had stopped talking to her completely. There was no small talk or soft smile of the regretfully busy Queen. Hell, the young child hadn't been in the same room as Anne since early July. Her father was slowly following in his wife's footsteps, his communication with the heir to the throne getting smaller and smaller by the day.
She couldn't say she was surprised. The look on her mother's face when she saw Sage holding her acceptance letter was one of raw and bitter betrayal. The mother looked at her daughter like the magic that ran in her veins had been created by the child herself, and not like it came from her own blood.
The older sister held her sister as little Eden cried over not seeing her mommy anymore. The youngest royal was only six.
Maybe that was the moment Sage and Anne's relationship collapsed.
Jasper didn't know what to think. Magic? He knew he was a prince, but he wasn't going to be king, and this was the real world. It was like everything had flipped on him completely. They didn't even know if Jasper and Eden were able to use magic like Sage, yet Anne had already taken to shunning all of her children. Just like that, they became nothing to her.
It was late. Sleep could not become to the young Princess as she laid in her bed. The humidity and heat of August led her to leave a window open for some air circulation, but it only helped so much, even in the late hours of the night. If anyone could see the young girl in that moment, they would feel compelled to hold her as she looked to be in verge of tears.
Her breaths were shuttered as she tried to hold in the river that had wanted to escape for weeks now.
The crash that practically echoed throughout her room was her god-send.
Panic shot painfully in every part of her small body, sitting up quickly to see the source of the sound. Standing on her desk, with soft appearing wings, was an owl that had a letter in its beak. It's wide eyes held contact with hers as she slowly slipped off her bed to take the letter.
