The floor was cold. That was the first thing Celeste felt every morning. She woke up on a thin mat in the corner of her room. The room was at the top of a tall tower. People in the palace called it the Birdcage. It was made of white stone and gold bars. It was very beautiful, but it was still a cage.
Celeste opened her eyes. The light in Aetheria was always too bright. There were no clouds in the sky. The sun reflected off the white marble walls and made her eyes ache. She sat up and rubbed her arms. She wore a simple white dress. It was thin and did not keep her warm.
She reached her hand back to touch her shoulders. She felt the skin there. It was bumpy and rough. These were her scars. Most angels had wings by the time they were five years old. Celeste was eighteen today, and she had nothing. Her back was flat and scarred. To the people of the sky, she was a broken thing.
"Happy birthday to me," she whispered. Her voice was small. No one ever came to wish her a happy birthday. No one brought her cake or gifts. Usually, the servants just left a bowl of cold porridge at the door.
Suddenly, the heavy gold door swung open. It hit the stone wall with a loud bang. Celeste jumped. She stood up quickly and backed into the corner.
Prince Caelum walked in. He was her older brother. He was everything an angel should be. He was tall and strong. He had hair that looked like real gold. Behind him, two massive white wings spread out. The feathers were perfect. They shone like diamonds in the bright light.
Caelum did not look happy. He looked disgusted. He looked at Celeste like she was a bug he wanted to step on.
"Get up, defect," Caelum said. His voice was loud and mean.
"I am up, Caelum," Celeste said. she tried to make her voice brave. "What are you doing here? The servants usually bring my food."
Caelum laughed. He walked closer to her. Each step he took was heavy. "You don't need food today. You have a big day ahead of you. It is your birthday, isn't it?"
"Yes," Celeste said. "I am eighteen."
"Eighteen years of being a shame to this family," Caelum said. He suddenly flared his wings. He flapped them hard. A huge gust of wind hit Celeste. It was so strong that it knocked her off her feet. She hit the wall hard. The back of her head throbbed with pain.
Caelum didn't stop. He used his wings to trap her against the wall. He stood over her, his shadow covering her. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder. He turned her around so he could see her back. He traced the scars with a cold finger.
"Look at this," Caelum mocked. "No feathers. No power. Just ugly skin. You aren't even an angel. You are just a human with a fancy name."
"Stop it," Celeste cried. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong.
"Father is tired of looking at you," Caelum whispered in her ear. "He is tired of the neighbors asking why his daughter is a freak. So, he made a choice. He found a place where people like you belong."
He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. He didn't care if she tripped. He dragged her down the winding stairs of the tower. Celeste's feet hit the stone steps. She was barefoot. The cold stone hurt her toes, but she didn't say anything. She knew Caelum liked it when she cried.
They walked through the main palace. Everything was white and gold. There were statues of great angels everywhere. The air smelled like expensive perfume and incense. Other angels stood in the hallways. They
were beautiful and perfect. When they saw Celeste being dragged by her hair and arm, they didn't help. They covered their mouths and giggled. They whispered about the "wingless princess."
Celeste felt a deep hole in her chest. She had lived in this palace her whole life, but she was a stranger. She was a mistake in a world of perfection.
They reached the Great Throne Room. The doors were twenty feet high. They were made of solid pearl. Caelum pushed the doors open.
At the end of the long room, King Uriel sat on his throne. He was the ruler of Aetheria. He was Celeste's father, but he never hugged her. He never called her "daughter." He only called her "Celeste" or "the girl."
Next to him sat Queen Seraphina. She was not Celeste's mother. Celeste's real mother had died a long time ago. Seraphina hated Celeste. She thought Celeste was a stain on the royal bloodline.
Caelum dragged Celeste to the middle of the room. He kicked the back of her knees. Celeste fell onto the hard marble floor. She stayed on her hands and knees, looking down at the white stone.
"Stand up," the King commanded. His voice was like a cold wind.
Celeste stood up. Her legs were shaking. She looked at her father. He looked very grand in his silver robes. His wings were the biggest in the kingdom.
"The war with the demons is getting worse," the King said. He spoke like he was reading a boring report. "Our soldiers are dying. The Demon King is powerful. He wants a tribute. He wants a bridge between our worlds so we can stop fighting for a while."
Celeste felt a cold chill. A tribute? She knew what that meant. In the old stories, kings gave gold or cows as tribute. But sometimes, they gave people.
"I have looked at my kingdom," the King continued. "I have looked at my family. We need to give the Demon King something he wants. He wants a bride of royal blood."
Celeste's breath caught in her throat. "No," she whispered.
"The Demon King asked for a princess," Queen Seraphina said. She had a small, mean smile on her face. "And we have three. Your sisters, Lyra and Elara, are perfect. They are beautiful angels with strong wings. They are too valuable to give to a monster."
The Queen looked at Celeste. "But you? You have no wings. You have no magic. You are a princess in name only. You are the perfect sacrifice."
Celeste looked at her father. "Father, please. They say the Demon King is a beast. They say he drinks blood. I will die there."
King Uriel did not look sad. He did not even look angry. He just looked bored. "You will be a Holy Offering, Celeste. You will go to the Underworld. You will marry King Athan. By doing this, you will buy us time to build our army. You will save your brother and your sisters."
"You are selling me," Celeste said. The truth hit her like a punch. "You aren't sending me to be a Queen. You are selling me like a horse."
"A horse is useful," Caelum joked from behind her. "You are just a burden. Be happy, Celeste. For the first time in your life, you are actually doing something for your kingdom."
Celeste looked around the room. She saw the guards. She saw the priests. She saw her own family. No one was looking at her with pity. They were looking at her with relief. They were happy to be rid of her.
She realized then that she was not a person to them. She was a political bartering chip. She was a piece of meat they were throwing to a wolf to keep the wolf away from their door.
"When do I leave?" Celeste asked. Her voice was dead. She stopped crying. There was no point in crying.
"Tonight," the King said. "The demon carriage will meet us at the border. The guards will take you to your room to dress. Do not try to run. The tower is high, and you cannot fly."
The King waved his hand. The guards stepped forward. They grabbed Celeste's arms. They were not gentle.
As they led her away, Celeste looked back one last time. Her father was already talking to Caelum about the army. He had already forgotten she was there.
She was being sent to a land of fire and monsters. She was being sent to a husband who was a devil. Everyone in Aetheria expected her to die. They wanted her to die so they wouldn't have to deal with the shame of her wingless back anymore.
Celeste walked back to her tower. She felt a new feeling in her chest. It wasn't sadness anymore. It was a cold, hard knot.
If they wanted to treat her like a monster, maybe she would become one. If the "pure" angels were this cruel, then maybe the "evil" demons wouldn't be so bad.
She went into her room and waited for the sun to go down. She waited for the carriage that would take her to the dark king. She didn't know that the monster she feared was the only person who would ever truly see her.
Outside, the bells of the city rang. They were celebrating the "peace" that was coming. They were celebrating the sacrifice of the girl they hated. Celeste sat in the dark and waited for her life to end, not knowing it was actually about to begin.