Moonlight's Deception

It was one of the last days of summer, and the sun was sitting flush to the horizon, bringing in another warm, clear day to Sierra Kingdom. Clara was to be seen huddled at the back of the palace kitchen near the garden. Her hands were scalded and splotchy and tender to the bone.Since this early morning—when she sneaked in the swarm of buzzing servants—she’d done little more than wash an endless pile of dishes. She worked on scrubbing plates and bowls and gravy boats and whole armies of silverware.The sheer amount of work was astonishing. And Clara didn’t mind the bins of food-caked plates arriving. For someone who was putting on a hard amount of tasks, she was still gleeful. Anyone could see it with the way she hummed a merry tune as her hands and maid's uniform were soaked in bubbles.Unlike the standard eighteen-year-old girl, Princess Clarabelle Zolene had no social life. The Earthal Princess was kept behind the curtains. For them, she was too precious to be left alone with untrus

At eight o’clock that evening, the guests began arriving through the drawbridge of the palace’s north entrance.Watching from the window in the front hallway as the caravans of lamplit carriages pulled into the circular drive, Clara shivered. The castle was warm with activity. Around her, the servants buzzed, but Clara stood still. She could feel it: a trembling in her chest as the excitement of being around people took over.Her birthdays were rare occasions when she was free to interact with others. However, the guests had always been limited to the rich circle from Sierra and Vermont Kingdom.The castle’s ballroom looked beautiful. Under the glow of so many chandeliers, she almost didn’t recognize the place. Tall pots of violet lilies lined the entryway, and the velvet-upholstered furniture had been pushed back against the wall to make room for the guests.Clara dressed in a fantastic white gown with a soft silk-crepe bodice and an exposed corset back. Her vanilla hair was pinned hi

Fate had a way to weave plot twists in everyone else’s lives.Clara’s dead eyes registered the happy faces, her mind whirring cogs inside her head to find the reason for their joy. Her limbs remained stuck on the ground. Her hands were crippled on her sides. A long static sound rang in her ears, causing temporary lightheadedness. She wanted to hurt herself, to punch her still frozen legs. All Clara wanted was to run away.With trembling hands, she reached for her chest. The suffocating sensation of having the air knocked out of her lungs arose. Everyone at the long table noticed Clara’s sudden heavy breathing. She took in all their worried looks but instead, all she ever felt were hatred rolling in like violent sea waves crashing into huge rocks.With the surge of what little energy left, Clara gathered the strength to go, running away from the people she spent her entire life with—people who had been her anchor all these years—yet, they were the same people who stole her life away.C

The morning air at Eirinia Empire was bitingly cold. Standing atop the floating island, the castle had enough chills amidst the summer season. But no matter the atmosphere’s temperature, it wasn’t something the air-wielders couldn’t withstand. It was to be seen with the way its people go on with their daily activity.At the hillside, where there was a makeshift ring, a pair took turns landing a hit to one another’s body. The northern kingdom’s fourth prince, Prince Heath Alexander Castellan, was having his usual morning battle with his ward and future royal advisor, Maxwell Beaumont.Alexander wiped the sweat off his brow and positioned his legs in a defensive stance. “Again,” he ordered, setting his gaze on his opponent. The prince wasn’t particularly in a good mood. Maxwell had to drag him out to spar when he was supposed to be burrowing his nose among the bunch of books. As much as possible, he wanted to stay away from prying eyes.Maxwell rolled his shoulders and stretched his nec

Clara’s head was an aching mess. The last thing she remembered was being knocked out by an excruciating pain her body couldn’t tolerate and the panic-filled eyes of Alistair as he ran to her.Peeling her eyes open, she woke up in the most lavish and beautifully decorated bedroom she’d ever seen, momentarily confused by all the dainty, pretty things.“Where am I?” she whispered, then coughed. And the sound of her voice made her heart stop its beat.Her voice didn’t sound like her. It used to be like melting honey; however, the voice she just heard from her throat was heavy and a little sharp.She roamed her eyes at the strange setting before her, hitting every color of the pink spectrum. The rosy accent walls were punched with gold leaf patterns. A strong scent of wild rose in the air was too much for her liking, a stark contrast of her favorite vanilla fragrance.Clara propped her elbows with a low grunt, hoisting her body up in a sitting position. She tried to will her body to adjust