Solana was the light of the kingdom.
She danced through the palace halls like a song in springtime, dressed in flowing gowns that shimmered like moonlight on water. Her laughter was music, and her golden hair glowed brighter than the chandeliers overhead. When she smiled, the world smiled back.
She was everything a princess was supposed to be—graceful, charming, soft like petals in bloom.
Everyone adored her.
But then there was Ravena.
Ravena didn't fit in the world of crowns and curtsies.
She didn't care for tea parties or diamond shoes. While Solana was taught how to charm noble guests and bow before princes, Ravena climbed trees in secret and wore stolen guard uniforms. She didn't dream of love stories—she dreamed of blades, of battlefields, of becoming someone no one could ignore.
She wanted to matter—on her own terms.
One morning, when she was only ten, a sharp voice startled her.
"What are you doing here, Princess?"
General Kael stood tall, a sword in one hand, brows raised.
Ravena didn't flinch. She stepped forward, chin lifted.
"I want to learn how to fight."
He studied her—this little girl in boots too big, eyes too fierce.
"You're a princess," he said. "You belong in ballrooms, not battlefields."
She crossed her arms. "I don't want that life. I want to be strong."
A pause. Then, slowly, he handed her a wooden sword.
"Then show me."
She charged. Wild. Sloppy. Small hands, shaky grip. She fell.
Hard.
But she stood up.
Again.
And again.
Kael smirked. "You're not strong yet. But you will be."
From that day forward, he trained her in secret. Through bruises and aching bones, Ravena never gave up. The pain didn't break her—it built her.
---
Seven Years Later…
Ravena was seventeen now.
She wasn't just strong.
She was power wrapped in silence.
She had become a vision of dark beauty—nothing like Solana's golden glow. Ravena carried a storm within her. Her long black hair moved like shadows, her emerald eyes gleamed with ancient fire. She didn't beg for attention—she commanded it.
The guards respected her. Some feared her.
She sparred daily with Kael now, steel ringing through the air like thunder.
That day, after she disarmed him with a clean spin and strike, she smirked.
"Stop calling me princess."
Kael, out of breath, laughed. "But you are the princess."
She rolled her eyes. "It's annoying."
"Well, Ravena, you've gotten good. Dangerous, even."
She tilted her head. "Dangerous is better than delicate."
He chuckled. "You say that like they're opposites."
"Aren't they?" she whispered, stepping back into stance.
"Let's find out."
Their swords clashed again.
---
That Evening…
The royal table sparkled with gold and silver.
The scent of roasted figs and honeyed wine floated in the air.
Solana twirled a lock of her hair. "I'm going to wear my new pink dress tomorrow," she said brightly. "Princess Anaya and I will act out our favorite fairytale!"
"That sounds wonderful," Queen Elira said, beaming. "You always bring light into the room, my dear."
The King turned to Ravena. "Will you go with her?"
Before Ravena could speak, Solana's voice cut sharply:
"No! She'll ruin it. Like she ruins everything."
"Solana!" the King barked.
The Queen's voice was lower, quieter—but sharper.
"Do you really want her scaring the other children?"
Ravena didn't reply.
She rose from her seat. Her steps were quiet, but her silence screamed.
She walked away.
---
Later, in her room…
She stared out the window.
The stars blinked back, cold and distant—just like the world around her.
The door creaked. Her father entered.
"You don't have to listen to them," he said softly.
"It's okay," she replied without looking at him. "I'm used to it."
There was a pause.
"Come with me tomorrow," he said gently. "Just us. No tea parties. No dresses. Just a father and his daughter."
Ravena finally turned to face him.
And nodded.