I can't believe I agreed to help Genie plan her wedding. Which consists of me planning something and her not liking it. I'm going to be Queen. This is not what I should be spending my time on.

I turn around in my desk chair and glide over to the other side of my horseshoe desk. I pull out swatches of fabric and begin holding them against the light. I've already decided on navy blue for the suits. Bobby has never been able to pull off a black suit that well.

I pull out a thick binder filled with different fabrics. Different patterns, colors, and materials. The plastic pages creak as I flip through some of the reds and pinks. Pink would match Genie's hair. Except for Bobby's skin tone!

I'm going to lose it.

"You know that you talk to yourself when you work?"

My stomach lurches into my throat as I jump and drop the dusty pink satin fabric in my hand. David is stretched out on the grey suede couch I have pushed against the wall of my study. My corkboard hangs above him with mountains of papers and pictures tacked onto it.

"How long have you been there?" I demand scooping the swatch back up.

"Five minutes!" David sighs dramatically. He drapes the back of his hand across his forehead and feigns distress. "You didn't even notice me."

"I was focused," I defend taking the navy blue swatch and pinning it in the corner of my cork board that I have cleared off for the wedding.

David pushes himself off the couch and begins poking around my desk. He lifts corners of papers to peer at whatever is below them. I told Kennedy to stop cleaning in here years ago. I could never find anything after they organized.

"Why are you planning your wedding?" David askes, looking at the folder of wedding dress sketches I have next to my computer. "You don't even know who you're marrying." He picks up the fabric binder and begins flipping through the pages.

"It's not for me," I say reaching for the binder. "It's for Bobby and Genie."

David moves in one fluid motion to keep the binder away from me as he places it down on the opposite side of my desk. Curse the fencing instructor. He's given David the reflexes of a cat. He looks at the page of red dresses that I have marked and shakes his head.

"This won't work at all." He discards the bookmark and flips all the way to the yellow pages.

"David!" I cry.

"What?" He grins. "Sloan can't wear red. If we don't change she would make us."

I hate it when he's right.

He runs his fingers over some of the options before he lands on a deep yellow. "What about this one?"

I quirk my eyebrow as I read the label. "Marigold?"

"Yes," David nods firmly. "Yellow is a happy color."

"You do realize that all of us are in the wedding procession, right?" I say turning my gaze to him.

David gasps. "You're right. You would look atrocious in marigold!"

I slap his arm lightly. "I wasn't talking about me! I was talking about Nick!"

David flashes me another cheeky grin before heaving more than half of the pages to the left. He scans the metallic colors and he stops suddenly. "What about copper?"

I take the book from him and examine the page more closely. "Copper," I muse. "Copper could work."

I pull off the fabric out and rub the swatch between my fingers. "We'd be better of having the dresses made of rayon." I look up at the rest of my plans and my faces cracks into a smile. "David you're and genius!"

I quickly tack the copper up and grab his hand. "Let's go to my sitting area, it's stuffy in here."

David follows and sits on my couch as I order tea. When I sit down in my armchair I take a deep breath and look at him. "Why did you come in here anyway?"

David takes a breath and looks down at his feet. "Do you ever feel trapped, Emma?"

I was not expecting that. I don't know how to answer. "Trapped how?"

"In this life," David replies quickly. He looks up at me with his eyes wide. "We can't leave."

"Oh David," I sigh looking at him. "As soon as you come of age you can go wherever you want, my sweet boy."

"For a time," David mutters looking back down at his feet. "I have to get married here."

"You can get married and then leave," I say. "Go to the Amazon. You liked it when we went there on vacation. Find a nice girl and move down to the rainforest."

"But what about my children?" David askes. "They shouldn't have to grow up away from here just because I feel trapped."

I get out of my seat and sit down next to him. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and he rests his head on mine. "David, you're twelve. You don't have to worry about kids. You are free to go wherever you like. You have the world at your fingertips, my boy. I'm stuck in this forsaken palace for the rest of my life. You don't have to stay anywhere for anyone."

"But what if?" David persists.

"Listen to me," I whisper. "You are going to be just fine. Worry about you. Don't worry about anything else. You're not trapped. Understand me."

"Yes," He nods.

"David, you could name your child Remmington Eagartin if you wanted to. That's how not trapped you are." I poke his side.

That gets a laugh out of him. "That would make me a terrible father."

"Not my problem." I smile standing. 

Seldom I feel like more of a mother than the woman who actually gave birth to us.

The door swings open and I expect and kitchen attendant with the tea, but instead, it's Juliet. 

"Hey, Bean!" David calls. Grandmother took to calling Juliet 'bean' when she was a baby and she has yet to shake the name. 

"What are you doing here?" Juliet askes him. 

"Emma and I were just talking," A servant walks in and set down a tray of iced tea and lemon bars on my table. "I needed help with something."

Juliet nods and walks up to me. "Will you braid my hair?"

"I thought I taught you how to braid?" I say. I know I taught her how to braid. 

"Yeah but I want a carousel braid," Juilet says with a sheepish grin. "I only know the Dutch one."

I lean back in my chair. "Can't Sloan do it?"

"No, I cannot," Sloan walks in not looking up from the school panel in her hands. She sits down in the love seat and looks up. "What am I not doing?"

"Giving Juliet a carousel braid," I say, shooting Juliet a look. "Fine. Go get your brush."

She flourishes her brush and hair elastics. "Got them!"

She sits down between my legs and hands me the brush. As I begin to brush out her brown and blonde locks Marcus walks in looking affronted. 

"Excuse you!" He calls. "Why wasn't I told about the party in Emma's room?"

"It's hardly a party," Sloan says, taking a bite of one of the lemon bars. "There isn't even alcohol."

I snap my eyes up from the complicated twists I'm weaving. "You are sixteen!"

Sloan shrugs and leans back with terrible posture. 

I look over my shoulder as Marcus. "Throw something at her."

"On it!" He calls. I nod and look back down at Juilet's hair. 

I hear Sloan shriek and look up to see Marcus chasing her around with a toilet wand. She vaults up the two stairs and jumps on top of my neatly made bed. She runs around and Marcus makes circles around the foot waving the dirty wand tantalizingly.

"There are scepters above the fireplace!" Juliet calls.

Sloan lets out a triumphant roar as she leaps off my bed and races over to my fireplace. She unhooks the scepter made of steel and topped with pearls and rose quartz. She turns around with a menacing sneer and faces Marcus. 

He grabs the other scepter and sticks it out pointing at Sloan. "On guard!"

I roll my eyes and continue with Juilet's hair. It feels good to do something with my hands. Marcus and Sloan keep yelling and evading each other's swipes with the scepters. David gets up and begins officiating the match. 

I tie off Juliet's hair and pat her shoulders. "Happy now?"

"Delighted." She replies with a mocking curtsey. 

I stand to watch the others fighting. They are acting ridiculous and haven't hit each other once. Juliet is cheering for Sloan and she is standing on the bench at the foot of my bed. I clap delightedly when Marcus makes contact with Sloan's staff. 

There is a clearing of someone's throat behind us. I know that sound. As do my siblings. We all freeze. Sloan and Marcus lower the scepters and hold them limply. Juliet lets her arms and smile fall, David smoothes his shirt. I try to un-bunch my shoulders before turning to face my grandfather. 

"Emmalyne," he says shortly. "Come with me." 

I look at my Grandfather with my chin held in the air. "I'll be out in a moment."

He gives a small nod and turns to leave. But I don't miss the lingering gaze he gives my siblings. I walk over to Juliet and hold my arms out. She holds my shoulders and lift her down from the bench.

Sloan takes the scepter from Marcus and places both of them back about the mantel. She turns them so the scuff marks and small dents face the wall. David grabs my hand as we walk out into the hall. 

I hug Juliet before she walks back to her room, her shoulders caved. I run my fingers through David's hair before he does the same. 

Sloan is glaring at our Grandfather, he stands at the top of the staircase watching me impatiently. She scoffs deep in her throat. "That was lovely ten minutes."

I sigh and put a  hand on her arm. "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Sloan bites back. "I know."

She wrenches her arm from my grasp and stomps towards her door. "Sloan! Please don't be like that! Come back!"

I get a slammed door in reply. My stomach turns to lead. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to brush off Sloan's abrasive manner.

"She doesn't hate you," Marcus says, reading my thoughts. "She hates your position. We barely see you anymore."

"I try," I force out. My voice cracks, tears gather in my eyes. "I wish I wasn't so busy all the time. It's not like I  want to spend my entire time with the Elders."

"I know," Marcus whispers. He opens his arms and envelopes me in his embrace. When did he get so tall?  "I'll talk to her. She misses you the most. She was really upset when you stopped coming around at night."

Before we went to bed I would say goodnight to all of my siblings. Sometimes it was short and sweet, other times I sat there for an hour talking to them. I gradually lessened my visits when I turned sixteen, the workload of the Court was overwhelming at first. But by the time I was seventeen I stopped saying goodnight all together.

"I'm so tired every night," I whimper in his shoulder. "I would come around more often. I just don't have the energy anymore."

"No one blames you, Emma." He says rubbing my back. "We understand. We may not like it, but we understand."

I pull away from the hug and pat under my eyes checking for tears. "You'll talk to her for me?"

"Yes," Marcus nods. "But you should too. I think she's fallen in love, and you know I'm not good about that stuff. She needs a girl to talk too."

Sloan? In love? How hadn't I noticed? I used to be good at spotting those types ofthings. 

"I had no idea. I will. Thank you, Marc." I say quickly giving his hand one last squeeze before tearing myself away to see what my Grandfather wants. 

By the time I walk over to my Grandfather he looks rightfully disgruntled. I wait for him to remark on my lack of formality or punctuality. But no sharp correction of my behavior comes. He simply leads me through the palace. 

How many times has he told me to go with him?

He doesn't attempt small talk. So I assume something bad has happened. My subconscious begins sealing my emotions away before I'm able to do so myself. 

How many times have I listened?

Four years ago construction of my mother's passion project finished. It was a speed train. There were five main tracks, with smaller tracks splitting off to the different regions. The main track is from once end of Legibus to the other. Without stopping git takes thirty-six hours to make the trek.

When the train opened my family decided to go on tour. We visited almost every region in the Kingdom while showing off the speed train the process. I shook countless hands and kissed far too many babies during that time. 

What should have been a three-day trip turned into a week-long affair. On the third day, we were cutting across the Painted Mountains. We were going to stop in an hour. 

I was in my room getting dressed. The train cars were huge. Each member of my family had their own, I was swaying slightly as I put in my pearl earrings. 

I had on a white cotton shirt and a dusty purple maxi skirt made of tulle. I wore an acid-washed denim jacket and hair my hair pulled up in two messy buns with braids up the back of my head.

"Kennedy, have you seen my pearl necklace? The one with the smaller beads." I called as I looked around the small vanity I was using.

"No Princess." They replied. 

"Are you sure?" I questioned turning to rummage in my bag. 

"You didn't pack it, Princess," Kennedy said. "I can order you another if you still need on for the trip. I can pick it up when we stop."

"Yes," I nodded checking my hair in the mirror. "Please do that."

There was a whooshing of the metal doors sounded as my grandfather stepped in. "Emmalyne, could you please come with me?"

The same as I now I nodded and followed him out to the last train car. The windows took up most of the space and I could see the sprawling hills covered in evergreen trees and grey rocks. I must have stood there watching the landscape zip by because my grandfather stepped up next to me. 

"Beautiful isn't it?" He grinned.

I swallowed the lump in my threat. "Yes." I agreed. "I suppose so." 

"Emmalyne, one day you will rule all of this. This entire kingdom will fall on your shoulders. From the smallest pebble to the largest building. It is all yours."

I was fourteen when he told me this. I didn't know what to say, I waited for him to keep talking. He did.

"We took you on this tour to show you what your responsibility will one day be. Watch your father as he greets the people because that will one day be your job."

"I am well aware of my responsibilities, Grandfather," I smiled. In fear of being scolded for my sharp tone, I quickly backflipped and built up his ego. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Emmalyne, by the time you ascend the throne there were be thousands of more Legibins. It will be your job to keep the peace, keep the order. We did our best to treat everyone fairly the people have no reason for revolution. Especially if you don't give them one."

"I will do my very best," I mustered a smile.

"History has shown us that it is highly uncommon for a third-generation royal to lose their power to a revolution. If that happens under your reign, I will be deeply disappointed." 

Then he left. Before I could get another word in, he left.  I stood in that caboose for the remainder of the ride. His words weighed heavily on me that day. They still do. But his speech did what it was supposed to. I started taking my role more seriously. That was the day I prepared to become Queen. 

As I follow him now I recognize the path he's taking me down. We walk down a winding story of stairs into the treasury. The most expensive room in the palace.

"What are we doing here?" I ask.

"Do you wear that anklet I gave you all those years ago?" My grandfather questioned as we walked deep into the glittering chamber. 

I didn't know what all-powerful entity to thank for the fact that I put the anklet on this morning. I was wearing a baby blue dress that fell in light layers around my knees the tulle skirt bounced as I moved. The sheer, detached sleeves kept inching down my arm. The satin sash was brown to match the anklet. 

"Yes," I answered sticking my foot out. 

"Good," My grandfather nodded. "Please remove it."

There is no lady-like way to remove an ankle bracelet. I settled for putting my left knee on the stone floor and sticking my right leg out to remove the anklet. My white platform heels teetered as I undid the clasp. 

I handed the three worn pieces of leather to him. He took it in his hands and stared at it. He separated one of the stands of leather and held it out for me to see.

"Notice how this piece is lighter than the rest. When your grandmother and I were separated during the final siege we had to write letters. She was in what is now northern Aedifex overthrowing the British Monarchy." Through the Burning Period, the British government was the only one that remained stable. "I was in Alaska building a temporary prison to hold the resistors." 

I had never heard this story before.

"Evevlopes were about as common as diamonds back then. We sent a notebook back and forth. It was was small, but the leather cover was easily identified. After the war, I tore a strip from the leather and wore it as a bracelet. Then we wrote up the peace treaty, each of the Orignal saviors took a strip of the Book of Peace as a reminder of what we sacrificed for what we have today. I kept the tradition going. When your father was coordinated I took another strip from the book and attached it to the others. He didn't want to wear them so I waited to pass it down to you. Emmalyne, I want you to tear a strip and add it to the bracelet."

Traditions were many in my Kingdom. But this one was different. I could see in my Grandfather's gaze how much he cared for this one. It meant something to him. Not much else did. I stepped forward to where an oak cabinet waited.

Upon opening, I saw a large book with an auburn cover. It was missing a solid chunk of the leather on the edge. I ripped a thin strip and tied it to the rest. 

I didn't realize it until much later that night, but I was effectively tying off the knot for my future. There was no turning around. I was trapped.