The Unlucky

LIORA'S POV 

The Mate Lottery is our kingdom’s most sacred tradition. It happens only once a year and every citizen of Verolia who has reached the eligible age is expected to participate, so by the will of the goddess of love, Isolde, everyone will be matched with a loving mate. 

But this year? Oh, this year lottery event will be the greatest there has been in centuries. Everyone’s been talking about it the whole time of the year. Why? Because our Emperor, Lordrin Varno, who became eligible seven years ago but never before entered the lottery, suddenly made a decision to join this year event.

He's no human, neither is he a werewolf. He is the most unique being, He’s an Angel, the one and only of his kind. The rarest of the rare. Rumor has it that he was actually a wish, a gift from the goddess Isolde to his parents. People who’ve been in the lottery before say that the couple who ends up being the most compatible gets three wishes from the goddess herself. Since the Emperor’s parents were the most compatible back then, people rumour he was born out of our goddess fulfilling his parents' wish to have a very powerful son.

Heather, my proud stepsister and I are some of the eligible candidates too. When our father learned of the Emperor’s participation, he immediately summoned our state’s most revered oracle to divine whether there is even the slightest chance that his favored daughter, Heather, would be matched with the Emperor himself. I mean who in their right mind would ever expect to win the Emperor? 

Father is one of the twelve Alpha Kings that rule the thirteenth states that make our massive kingdom. They all govern under our Emperor, but they rule their states independently. We come from one of the biggest state and it would bring shame if Heather were to be matched to a lowly prince, which is why Father is desperate for Heather to win someone famed.

The old oracle's incantations grow louder and louder as she rocks back and forth on her chair. Her old withered hands shake, suddenly releasing the enchanted gemstones she was holding over the small paintings of the two famous princes and a sketch drawing of our formidable Emperor. None of the gems land on any painting or sketch to indicate Heather’s possible match.

Yet the old woman's eyes remains closed for a long moment before she suddenly opens them, seemingly baffled.

"What did you see?" Our father demands. 

"Will my daughter get a wealthy and powerful mate?" Heather's mother anxiously questions. 

"Who will I win?" Heather herself demands impatiently,

The widest of smiles appears on the Oracle's face as she looks from our father, to Heather's mother and to Heather, "My blessed dear child, you will not win just a powerful and wealthy mate. You will win our mighty Emperor himself!”

I’m sorry, what? That’s not funny!

The silence that follows is thick.

Then Heather gasps loud enough to wake the dead. “The Emperor! I shall win the Emperor?” 

The Oracle nods solemnly. "The gods have shown me a brief, glimpse of your future. You will bathe in endless wealth and unimaginable power and love from the greatest of all men.”

Heather’s mother lets out a scream of joy, clutching her daughter like a prized possession. “My Heather, will be chosen for the Emperor himself!” she gushes in disbelief and elation.

Father rises from his seat, his usually stern face breaking into widest of grins.

“This...this will bring us honor, glory and wealth beyond measure!” He looks at Heather the same way you would look at your most beautiful Jewel. "Finally, a daughter worthy of this family, a glorious future laid out like a red carpet just for her.” He claims like I am not his daughter too. In fact, I am his only blood daughter.

Yeah, thanks, father. Real inclusive.

Believe it or not my dead human mother was once our father's matched mate in the lottery and his beloved wife. And I was their first born daughter.

I was a cherished young princess, until the day that my father realized that he could gain more influence if he married a woman of werewolf blood.

My mother was a human and a commoner. Her marriage to him had brought our state no more influence than it already had. But because of their bond she still did not expect his betrayal. 

He could have divorced her. But instead he chose to accuse her of infidelity and have her banished from every state of the kingdom without a single possession. 

The soldiers that had escorted her to the land of outcasts outside the kingdom later returned with the news that she had lost her mind on the way and attacked them, forcing them to kill her.

Father immediately married Heather's mother, Lucida. She already had, Heather. A daughter same age as me but of werewolf blood. Father adored her above all things, so he declared that since my mother was unfaithful to him he did not believe that I was his legitimate daughter. That's how I came to be known as his bastard daughter.

Heather, of course, takes every opportunity to remind me of that. Her lips curls into a smug, self-satisfied smile, one she always wears when she’s outshines me in anything. She looks from me to Father and says, “I will win the Emperor’s hand, Father. I will bring you all the glory, wealth, and power you’ve ever dreamed of. I know well that Liora can’t do that. But I will.”

Surprise? None. Heather hates me just as much as her mother does, and they’re constantly trying to turn Father against me. To be fair, Father already doesn’t like me much, but at least he doesn't hate me as much as they do.

Father’s grin stretches even wider, clearly pleased. “Good. You’re exactly the daughter I’ve always wanted.” Then, turning to the Servants in the room, he commands, “Spread this amazing news! Let everyone in my state know that Heather, my favored daughter, shall be chosen for the Emperor himself!”

He then turns back to Heather. "To honor this divine news, I will declare a grand celebration lasting two full days and nights before the lottery! Every village and town within our state shall shine with feasts and festivals for you." 

Two days of partying? For... a prophecy that hasn’t even happened yet? Why not wait until after the lottery’s over, when we actually know if the prophecy will acctually come to pass.

I’m trying not to sound jealous, really, I am, but come on. The goddess Isolde is not going to match the Emperor, an angel of pure compassion and grace with Heather. She's got a lot of evil in her.

I have never once met or seen our good Emporer but he is said to be an angel living among men. I have heard incredible tales of his beauty and wisdom, but it is the touching stories of his unusual sense of compassion that makes me believe that the Oracle just gave them a sweet little prophecy wrapped in a lie. And surprise, surprise, they just believed her.

Heather’s mother is clinging to her daughter like she's the sun and moon combined, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m so proud of you, dear,” she gushes. “Your enemies will choke on their envy!” She adds shooting me a spiteful glare.

Well, I am not chocking, am I? Not yet anyway.

"Can I get a reading too?" I ask loudly, cutting through their celebratory bubble. They all glare at me. “I might win one of the famous princes. Who knows?” 

Their faces twist with irritation, except the oracle’s.

"Unless your father is willing to pay, my dear, ten gold coins are required for a proper reading.”

Heather’s mother scoffs, “We can’t waste ten gold coins on a reading for a human, can we?” her voice laced with bitterness. "We all know that it is not your daughter anyway," 

"And none of the princes would want it anyway,” Heather adds scornfully but there is a thoughtful expression on our father's face.

“Do her reading,” he orders the oracle. “I’d rather know she’ll get a mate, even if he’s a farmer, just so I know she won’t come back here.”

Heather and her mother exchange annoyed glances, but the oracle quickly clears the table of the portraits and gathers her gemstones, before beginning her chant once more. 

After a while she reopens her eyes.

"My child,” she pronounces, looking directly at me, “your destiny is unlike your sister's. You will not find a mate among princes or kings, but among the simple folks, your mate will be a peasant commoner.”

Laughter breaks out instantly. Heather’s mother let out a sharp, scornful bark, while Heather's chuckle echo across the hall. Even the servants in the room try to stiffle their laughter. Father merely shake his head, looking utterly displeased..

"I bet he'll be some dirt-stained farmer.There’s no reason for you to even show your face in the capital.” Heather jeers and they burst out laughing with her mother again.

Commoners have their own local lottery events in every state, royals and their close families go to the capital as it is expected royals are mostly matched with fellow royals.

I am taken aback by the oracle's prophesy. No “taken aback” doesn’t cover it. Shocked, angry, crushed, that’s more like it. How can she say my destiny is to be mated to some peasant commoner. My whole life, I’ve tried to be the perfect daughter, praying to the goddess Isolde for a mate worthy of me. While Heather and her friends were hanging out, drinking, and doing whatever else it is they do to get themselves in trouble, Yet she will get the Emperor, and I will get a peasant commoner?

Despite their loud jeers, I scoff. “You’re a con,” I spit at the old woman. “I don’t need your fake visions to know the goddess will give me a good mate.”

Father’s face darkens in anger at my accusations, so I quickly storm out of the room before he can order the guards to arrest and whip me as punishment.

********

The gentle, celebratory tunes waft in through my bedroom window, played by my father's best musicians, meaning “Heather Might Score the Emperor” party has begun. The sound is almost as sweet as the laughter of the arriving guests, a parade of our states noblemen and ladies strutting down the path in their finest, each carrying gifts for Heather.

While looking out of the window I see the guards at the gate smiling as they let in a group of girls. Heather leads the pack, looking insufferably pleased with herself. The girls behind her seem exhilarated too, in beautiful dresses as they follow her towards the front doors. 

Heather smirks when she sees me. She whispers something to her friends and points a finger in my direction. I can practically read her lips, “That’s the one who’ll marry a farmer.” They all laugh loudly. 

But joke’s on them. First, I’m not choking despite their wishes. Second, I don't buy that ridiculous prophecy. If Goddess Isolde knows anything, she knows my value. They'll all be gaping when I finally step out with the mate meant for me.

I return to my bed and finish sewing the dress I have been making. When I try it on, it shimmers with beauty. The beads on it are neither gold nor silver, I scavenged them from several old dresses but they make the whole thing look as expensive as Heather’s entire wardrobe. Good luck matching this, prophecy princess.

A sudden thought strikes my mind, why not make something to gift my future mate when we meet? I have no clue what he’ll look like. I imagine he’s tall, tanned, built like a warrior, and is absolutely lovely and full of warmth. The vision is pure ecstasy.

I Kick my feet in a giddy burst of happiness and rush off to check my stash of materials I’ve saved.