Prequel short story part 1: Dalya

Keep quiet and look pretty.

That is what you are for.

An ornament.

The prettiest ornament.

"Dalya, don't space out so much. Smile and stay focused so you can answer questions politely."

"Mother you weren't even supposed to come," I say to her, aware that mattered not at all to her.

"I don't want to hear any remarks like that out of you again. Especially not in front of the princes. Don't ever question them. You're here only because you are beautiful. Play to your strengths." My mother said to me strictly, though it wasn't anything I hadn't heard before.

"Yes mother."

I remembered looking around the room and spotting all the royalty who stuck out like sore thumbs among the selected. They had extravagant clothing, most of them, and had on confident airs. They also seemed to separate themselves from each other. Like they were allergic to one another.

For lack of understanding, I wanted to open my mouth and speak my mind to my mother. But I knew better. I was to be seen and not heard.

And then I saw him. Dathan.

He was talking to a woman with red hair and seemed to be wooing her. He looked at me and I could tell his eyes lingered, as everyone's always did. But my eyes lingered too. I'd never seen such a beautiful man. I think that was the moment I decided I would marry him. Because I knew I could have anyone I wanted, I chose him.

Little did I know I would never really have him. It's strange how you think you know people and one person comes along and shows you how little you know.

"Hello, My dear," his smirking lips said to me. "How do you fair?"

"Quiet well," I replied only enough to answer the question.

"You might be the most beautiful woman I have ever met if you don't mind me saying." His eyes were on my now but I could tell he wasn't just looking at my face. Of course I didn't mind, my whole life I'd been looked at.

"Thank you, sir." I gave him a polite curtsy, symbolic of the submission I showed right up until my death. Right up until I had enough.

He never really married me, though he called us all his wives. The five of us. None of us ever got along. I never felt that I had much competition before he became king. I didn't see how he interacted with the other women but I knew I was more beautiful. But I found out after he killed all the other royals that I wasn't his favorite as I thought.

It was her. He said he did it for her. And she was angry.

How dare she.

The only woman he actually married.

I was a solid second until I gave birth to my daughters. He didn't care about being there or what I named them just that nothing happened in labor that would damage them. It went perfectly.

And within hours I had two baby girls that I knew would be beautiful as I was. But their lives would be better. Because they always would have each other.

After the children were born I thought he would go back to touching me and being affectionate. But he never did. One day I went to his room in a nightgown piece of lingerie. I thought it could cover my stomach and all the unsightly parts about me wouldn't be seen. But what is out of sight is not out of mind. He rejected me.

And he stoped forcing me to stay in the castle.

He used to keep me in my room and not let me out as he did all his other women. Because I was more likely to taken advantage of I suppose.

But he stopped doing that.

I suppose he thought people would only get far enough to see the excess skin on my stomach and the scars and change their minds. Or maybe he no longer cared what happened to me.

About a week after he killed one of his other wives I began to wonder if he would just leave me alone.

When I made the decision to kill myself, I did think about my girls. But I knew they were his heirs and he wouldn't kill them. And if he killed me I couldn't protect them anyway.

With no purpose left in me, I went to the lake, the lake I went to for peace. I took a boat to the middle of the lake and tied heavily weights to my feet.

And I plunged to the bottom.

And there I stayed.