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His Broken princess,His Relentless Queen

Nmesomachi_Orji
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Chapter 1 - THE PRINCESS NO ONE WANTED

The night Princess Seraphina Valeira was born, the skies did not celebrate.

No stars shimmered. No winds whispered blessings. Even the palace candles flickered like they were unsure if they should stay lit.

Inside the grand birthing chamber, Queen Elowen clutched the silk sheets, her breathing uneven, her eyes filled with both pain… and fear. The royal physicians exchanged worried glances—because they knew something the king did not.

The queen had taken a rare potion months before. A desperate remedy from a wandering healer who promised it would strengthen her unborn child.

But magic—especially desperate magic—always demands a price.

And tonight, that price was revealed.

A cry pierced the room.

The baby had arrived.

But instead of the usual joyful gasps and cheers, silence fell.

Heavy. Suffocating. Unforgiving.

The midwife hesitated before wrapping the child in cloth. Her hands trembled—not because the baby was weak…

…but because of her face.

The infant princess bore a deep, jagged marking across her skin, like a burn shaped by shadows themselves. It twisted slightly across her cheek and eye, making her appearance startling, almost unnatural.

Yet—

Her eyes.

Her eyes were breathtaking.

A rare shade of violet-gold, glowing faintly like dawn meeting dusk.

The kind of beauty that didn't belong to ordinary humans.

The midwife swallowed hard. "Your Majesty… she lives."

King Aurelian Valeira turned slowly.

Tall. Proud. A man who valued perfection as much as power.

"Bring her to me."

There was hesitation.

That alone irritated him.

"I said, bring me my child."

The baby was placed into his arms.

And for a brief second—just one—there was something like wonder in his eyes.

Then he saw it.

The mark.

The flaw.

The imperfection.

His expression hardened instantly.

"What… is this?" he asked coldly.

No one answered.

No one dared.

Queen Elowen reached weakly toward him. "She's our daughter… Aurelian… she's—"

"She is a disgrace."

The words hit the room like thunder.

The queen gasped softly, tears slipping down her temples.

"She will not grow in this palace," the king continued, his voice steady, cruel, final. "I will not have whispers of a cursed heir."

"She is not cursed!" the queen cried, her strength returning just enough to protest. "She is ours!"

But the king had already turned away.

"Take her," he ordered.

The guards hesitated.

"To the forest beyond the eastern ridge. Leave her there."

The midwife dropped to her knees. "Your Majesty, she's only a child—"

"Then let the forest decide her fate."

Silence.

The queen screamed his name, begging, pleading—but power had already made its choice.

And so…

Before the moon could reach its highest point, the newborn princess was carried away from the only home she would never remember.

The Forest That Refused to Let Her Die

The eastern forest was not a place people returned from.

It was wild, ancient, and whispered to be alive in ways humans couldn't understand.

The guards rode in uneasy silence.

One of them, a young soldier named Cassian, kept glancing at the small bundle in his arms.

The baby had stopped crying.

Instead, she simply stared at him.

Calmly.

Almost knowingly.

"Don't look at me like that," he muttered under his breath. "I'm not the villain here."

But it felt like he was.

When they reached the edge of the forest, the captain gave the order.

"Leave her."

No ceremony. No prayer.

Just abandonment.

Cassian hesitated.

The baby blinked slowly, her strange eyes catching the moonlight.

Something in his chest twisted painfully.

"She'll die out here," he said quietly.

"That is the point," the captain replied.

Cassian clenched his jaw.

Then, instead of placing her on the cold ground, he stepped deeper into the forest—just a little.

Far enough that the wind softened.

Far enough that the shadows didn't feel so cruel.

He gently laid her near the roots of a massive tree.

"I don't know if there are gods listening," he whispered, "but if there are… you owe this child mercy."

The baby made a small sound—not a cry, not fear.

Almost… a hum.

Cassian froze.

Then quickly stood and walked away before he could change his mind.

The guards rode off.

And the forest grew quiet again.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—

The wind shifted.

Leaves rustled though there was no storm.

A pair of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness.

Then another.

And another.

Creatures of the forest gathered—not predators… but watchers.

Protectors.

The baby did not cry.

She simply looked at them.

And smiled.

A Name Born From Ashes

At dawn, she was found.

Not by nobles.

Not by soldiers.

But by a woman who had long ago chosen the forest over the cruelty of men.

Her name was Maelis.

A healer. A wanderer. A woman with secrets stitched into her silence.

She paused when she saw the child.

"Now what do we have here?" she murmured.

Carefully, she lifted the baby.

Her sharp eyes studied the mark, then softened as she noticed the child's calm gaze.

"Well," Maelis sighed, adjusting the bundle in her arms, "someone clearly didn't know what they were throwing away."

The baby grabbed her finger.

Strong grip.

Strong will.

Maelis chuckled.

"I suppose you'll need a name."

She looked up at the rising sun, filtering through the trees.

"Seraphina," she said softly. "A name for something that burns… yet refuses to be consumed."

The baby blinked.

As if accepting it.

And just like that—

The princess no one wanted became the child the forest chose.

Far Away… A Palace of Perfection

Back in the palace, life moved on quickly.

As if Seraphina had never existed.

The king ensured it.

Years passed.

And soon, the kingdom celebrated the beauty of his other daughters:

Princess Lysandra – graceful, golden-haired, adored by all

Princess Evelyne – sharp-minded, elegant, dangerously charming

They were everything Seraphina was not allowed to be.

Perfect.

Praised.

Loved.

King Aurelian often boasted, "My daughters are the jewels of this kingdom."

But there was always something missing in the way he said it.

Something… incomplete.

Because deep down—

Even kings cannot fully silence the ghosts of their choices

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