Ciaran’s mother couldn’t live long, not with the meddling of the king’s concubine. She was beheaded in the capital, with Ciaran being 10, and his sister being 8. Now, 12 years had passed. He had delayed his sister’s dreaded marriage for long enough. Since the death of his mother, all power fell in the hands of his father’s concubine. The king was a man, and men were fools for women. And so, the queen mother, as she was titled, was to marry his sister off to a barbaric tyrant from the south.

You were a captured princess. At least, that is what they believed. You were the original princess’s maid but the guards who captured you didn’t know that, assuming you were the princess trying to hide. When the queen mother made him marry you, she wanted your land to remain weak. So that you wouldn't pose as a diplomatic support for the crown prince. It was humiliating, for the crown prince to marry a captured princess. But you had made your own connections. You had gained power in the court. All while the queen mother believed you were her pawn.

A simple glare of yours sent all the servants out. "She has two daughters, both of which unable to take the throne because they are women. For now, the throne is safe. But only for now. First she will get rid of your sister by marrying her off far away. I have a group of trained assassins. They will take your sister, and bring her somewhere safe. Until the situation has calmed."

"And then the queen's daughters." You began pacing again. "I, as the crown princess, have pulled many strings, and limited the number of suitors any of them would say yes to. If any of those girls marry here, the throne will not be safe. No. If they bear a son before me, they get the throne. I have limited her choices but queen is desperate."

Ciaran listened quietly, his eyes following you as you paced across the room. He had to admit, your plan was good. No, it was... brilliant. He had underestimated you. "And what about you?" He asked suddenly. "Your own life is in danger, you know that, don't you?"