Chapter 2 The Crown And The Choice

"You are all welcome to this royal gathering," King Richard said, greeting the assembled kings and wise men. "We are here today to prepare for the arrival of the Crown Prince of Allen, as his marriage to our daughter Jovita draws near."

The room erupted in a polite murmur of conversation and nods of acknowledgment as the king spoke. Queen Ruth, King Richard's wife, stood graciously beside him, a warm smile on her face as she welcomed the guests.

Meanwhile, Princess Jovita, the bride-to-be, sat on a nearby throne flanked by two maids. Her eyes were cast downward, emotionless, as she fidgeted with the folds of her gown.

As the king's words faded, a soft rustling of fabric drew everyone's attention. Lucy, Jovita's cousin, slipped quietly into the hall. Her gaze moved around the room with quiet caution and curiosity. Lucy was the daughter of Ben Moore, King Richard's younger brother. She found a seat and sat silently amidst the ongoing discussions.

"In five days' time," King Richard continued, his voice filled with regal excitement, "we shall host the royal family of Allen for a formal introduction between their prince and our princess, ahead of the main wedding ceremony. The castle staff must therefore prepare to work tirelessly to ensure everything is flawless."

Queen Ruth nodded calmly, her eyes scanning the room to be sure everyone understood their responsibilities.

Princess Jovita looked almost pale, though she held her composure. Her eyes seemed fixed on something distant, beyond the walls of the grand chamber.

Lucy, still quietly observing, felt a pang of envy at the announcement. She was older than Jovita by two years and believed she was better suited to be queen of Allen. After all, she knew Jovita was not looking forward to the marriage, and the pressure of meeting her future in-laws must have been overwhelming.

As the king finished speaking, the castle staff quickly dispersed to begin preparations.

Prince Lucius, however, had no desire to marry Princess Jovita. As the arranged marriage drew closer, he grew increasingly anxious. The thought of spending his life with someone he did not love tormented him. His heart belonged to another-the one he had secretly loved. But as a royal, Lucius felt bound by duty to go through with the marriage.

That night, Jovita had a strange dream.

She saw herself push open the heavy iron doors and step out into the crisp morning air. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow over the castle garden. She sighed deeply, the cool air filling her lungs, as she wandered along a winding path.

Lost in thought, she eventually reached a small pond. The water was still, and mirror-like. She sat on a nearby bench, gazing at the tranquil scene.

Then, she felt something.

A strange sensation, like a buzzing in the air. Subtle at first, but grew stronger. Her heartbeat quickened. A shiver ran down her backbone.

Suddenly, four masked figures stepped out from the trees. Two of them were awkwardly tall, and two unusually short.

Jovita froze.

Before she could think of running away, she was already in their grasp.

Jovita struggled, but her limbs felt strangely heavy, as if weighed down by invisible chains. The masked figures said nothing. Their silence was more terrifying than any threat. She tried to scream, but no sound came from her lips.

One of the tall figures raised a gloved hand and touched her forehead.

A sudden wave of warmth surged through her, then cold, like being plunged into deep water. Her vision blurred. The garden shimmered, its colors fading like melting paint, and the sky above darkened to a swirling gray.

In the next moment, she was no longer by the pond.

She stood in a vast hall of mirrors, stretching endlessly in all directions. Each mirror reflected not her current self, but different versions of her: some smiling, some crying, others bound in chains or wearing a crown too heavy for her head.

She stumbled backward, dazed, as the four masked figures reappeared. This time, standing behind her reflections.

"What do you want from me?" Jovita cried out. Her voice returned now, thin but urgent.

One of the dwarfed figures stepped forward and spoke with a voice that echoed in layers: male, female, child, and old woman all at once.

"The choice is not yours yet. But it will be."

"What choice?"

"The path of freedom or the path of duty. One leads to the heart. The other to the throne. You may not hold both."

"I don't want either if I have to lose myself," she whispered.

The mirrors began to crack, one by one, each shattering with a sound like distant thunder. As they fell away, Jovita glimpsed flashes of real places. A dark forest lit by fireflies, a battle in a snowstorm, a ship on stormy seas, and finally... the Prince of Allen, kneeling before someone hidden in shadow.

She tried to move forward, to see more, but the ground trembled beneath her feet.

"You must awaken," the voice whispered. "Before others decide for you."

The mirrors collapsed entirely, and she was swallowed by a storm of wind and light.

Jovita woke up with a start, her gown damp with sweat and her hands trembling. The early morning light was barely seeping through her window. Everything around her looked the same, but nothing felt the same.

She sat upright in bed, pressing a hand to her chest.

"What was that?" she murmured.

A dream, surely.

And yet... It felt like a warning.

There was a soft knock on her door.

Jovita was surprised to see Lucy, her cousin.

"Jovita," she said, peeking in. "Breakfast is being served. The queen says we must begin dress fittings afterward."

Jovita nodded slowly. "I'll be there in a moment."

Lucy gave her a long, unreadable look, then disappeared.

Left alone, Jovita whispered to herself, "I don't think I'm ready for this marriage."

And for the first time, she wasn't just afraid.