The morning mist clung to the thick woods surrounding the Kingdom of Elthar, where shadows and silence ruled. Sir Gavin’s breath came out in huffs, his steed’s hooves kicking up the damp earth as he rode toward the edge of the kingdom. The wind was sharp, cutting through his armor and biting at his skin, but the cold was nothing compared to the anticipation that clawed at his chest.

For years, the royal family had sought any trace of their missing daughter. Rumors had circulated for a decade—whispers of a girl with golden hair, a star-shaped birthmark, living on the fringes of the realm. But those rumors had been like smoke, vanishing before they could ever be grasped. Until now.

Gavin had seen her with his own eyes, a simple woman living in a cottage far from the kingdom’s heart. Her face was weathered by time, her clothing simple, but there was no mistaking the birthmark that set her apart. A mark that only Princess Astrid had borne.

His horse galloped faster as he approached the small, humble cottage nestled at the forest's edge. The scene was peaceful—the birds sang, the sky was clear, and wildflowers dotted the ground with bursts of color. But peace was not what Sir Gavin sought. Today, he was bringing home a lost princess.

He slowed as the cottage came into view. There she was, standing in the garden, her back to him. Long golden hair cascaded down her back, catching the morning light as if the sun itself was drawn to her. Her hands were buried in the earth, tending to some herb or flower, oblivious to the world beyond her quiet existence.

"Princess Astrid," he called, his voice a mix of hope and uncertainty.

The woman froze, her back straightening. Slowly, she rose and turned to face him, a look of confusion clouding her deep green eyes. She was beautiful, though her face was touched with the lines of a hard life—yet there was something regal about her posture, something familiar.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice calm yet wary, as if unsure whether to be afraid of the armored stranger before her.

Sir Gavin dismounted, keeping his movements slow and careful. He didn’t want to startle her, not when she was so close, not when he was so certain. “You may not remember me, Your Highness, but I know who you are. Your family has been searching for you for many years.”

She frowned, taking a step back. “You must be mistaken. I am no princess. My name is Lyra, and I’ve lived here all my life.”

Gavin’s heart tightened in his chest. "You bear the mark of Princess Astrid. The star-shaped birthmark on your collarbone. You are the lost princess of Elthar."

At that, she instinctively placed her hand over her birthmark, as though she could hide it. Her confusion deepened, but so did her unease. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"I am Sir Gavin of Elthar," he said gently, taking another step toward her. "I was only a boy when you were taken, but I remember you. Your parents, King Edric and Queen Elara, remember you. You were lost to us when you were just a child, but we never stopped searching for you. You were the light of the kingdom. And now... we have found you."

Lyra—or Astrid—shook her head, her eyes wide. “No... I’m not who you think I am. I’m no princess. I’ve lived here for as long as I can remember. I’m just... just me.”

Gavin’s heart broke a little at the fear in her voice. She truly didn’t remember. He stepped closer, offering her a hand. “I don’t mean to frighten you. But you must come with me. The kingdom needs you. Your family needs you.”

Astrid—Lyra—took a step back, her face a mixture of disbelief and fear. “I don’t belong in a kingdom. I belong here.”

“I know this is hard to believe,” Gavin said softly, “but there are answers waiting for you. The queen herself will confirm it. Come with me, and you’ll see. You’ll see who you truly are.”

She hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped her dress. The world she knew was slipping away, replaced by a whirlwind of confusion and doubt. She glanced back at the simple cottage, the garden she had tended, the life she had known for as long as she could remember. Could it be true? Could she truly be someone else—someone so important?

Gavin saw the doubt in her eyes, the fear that kept her rooted in place. He had to act. Without waiting for her consent, he moved forward, closing the distance between them in one swift motion. Before Astrid could react, he swept her up into his arms and hoisted her onto his horse.

“Wait—no!” she cried, struggling against him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Gavin said, his voice firm. “But I cannot leave you here. You must return to your family. They will explain everything.”

Astrid fought him at first, but it was no use. Sir Gavin was a seasoned knight, and though he handled her with care, his grip was unyielding. She was trapped. As they rode through the forest, away from the only home she had ever known, panic surged through her chest. Everything felt wrong. She wasn’t a princess. She couldn’t be.

The trees blurred as they galloped onward, the wind whipping her hair around her face. Astrid’s heart raced with fear and uncertainty. What was happening to her? Who was she really?

The journey back to Elthar’s castle felt like a lifetime. As they neared the grand stone walls, Astrid’s pulse quickened. She had seen the castle once before in the distance, a symbol of power and wealth. But now, as the gates opened to receive them, it felt like a prison.

They passed through the streets of the city, and the people began to stare. Whispers spread like wildfire—word had reached the kingdom that the lost princess had been found. Faces lined the streets, wide-eyed and curious, as they gazed upon the woman they had thought dead for so long.

“Is it her?”

“Could it really be?”

“The lost princess... she’s returned.”

Astrid kept her gaze low, feeling the weight of their stares like a physical force. This wasn’t her. This couldn’t be her life. The castle gates loomed ahead, cold and foreboding.

As they entered the castle grounds, the guards led them through to the great hall where King Edric and Queen Elara waited. The air was thick with anticipation. Astrid’s heart thundered in her chest, her palms damp with sweat. She had been brought here against her will, and now, she was about to meet the people who claimed to be her family.

The grand doors swung open with a creak, and there, at the far end of the hall, stood the king and queen. Queen Elara’s eyes filled with tears the moment she laid eyes on Astrid, her hand flying to her mouth as if to stifle a sob. King Edric stood tall, but his eyes softened with emotion, his hands trembling as they rested on the arms of his throne.

“Astrid...” Queen Elara’s voice broke as she stepped forward. “My daughter...”

Astrid froze, her heart pounding. She felt the pull of something familiar, something deep within her stirring at the sight of these two people. But it was tangled in fear and confusion. She couldn’t remember them.

“I—I’m sorry,” Astrid stammered, backing away. “I don’t know you.”

Queen Elara’s face crumpled, and King Edric’s strong facade wavered. “You will remember, in time,” he said softly. “We have waited for this day for so long.”

“I’m not your daughter!” Astrid cried, her voice rising in desperation. “You have the wrong person!”

But the queen only shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “No, my darling. You are our Astrid. You are home.”

👑

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Astrid sat rigidly on the velvet-cushioned chair, her fingers digging into the armrests. The air inside the royal chambers felt too thick, too heavy. A suffocating mixture of luxury and expectation. She could feel the weight of their eyes on her—her parents, the advisors, the servants hovering just outside the door. Her parents had given her a room in the palace, a place to “rest and remember,” as Queen Elara had gently suggested. But all Astrid could feel was the tightening knot of panic in her chest.

She wasn’t who they thought she was. She was just Lyra, a woman who lived a simple life on the outskirts of the kingdom. She didn’t belong in these lavish rooms with their towering ceilings, gleaming marble floors, and tapestries depicting battles she’d never heard of. This was all a mistake.

But how could she explain that to people who looked at her as though she was the answer to their prayers?

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts, and the door creaked open. A woman stepped inside, her presence immediately commanding attention. She was dressed in royal blue, her posture straight and regal. There was a fierceness in her green eyes, a spark of defiance and confidence that made her seem older than she was. Astrid guessed she was only a few years younger than herself, perhaps in her early twenties.

“Astrid,” the woman said, her voice warm yet cautious. “It’s me—Aries.”

Astrid’s stomach twisted at the name. Aries. The sister she never knew she had. The woman who had been raised in her place, groomed to be the future queen. While Astrid had been lost, Aries had been found. But now, looking at her, Astrid saw the unease that lingered behind Aries’s confident smile. Her green eyes flickered, studying her, sizing her up.

“You’re really her, aren’t you?” Aries stepped closer, her gaze locked on Astrid’s. There was no malice in her voice, but there was something else—a weight, a sense of something unsaid.

“I—I don’t know,” Astrid whispered, feeling small under Aries’s intense stare. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t even know if I’m really who they say I am.”

Aries’s expression softened, but only slightly. “It must be confusing for you, all of this... suddenly being thrown into a world you’ve never known. But, Astrid,” she took a seat across from her, her eyes never leaving Astrid’s, “this is your world. You belong here.”

Astrid shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Do I? You’ve been here all these years. You’re the one who knows how to rule, how to be... all of this.” She gestured vaguely at the lavish surroundings. “I don’t even remember anything before the cottage.”

Aries leaned back, her lips pressed into a thin line. There was a flicker of something—perhaps irritation—before she composed herself again. “They’ve been waiting for you to return for years. They’ve told me stories about you since I was old enough to understand. But for all those years, it’s been me. I’ve been the one they’ve prepared to be queen. I’ve been the one ruling alongside them.” She paused, her green eyes narrowing just slightly. “Do you understand what that means?”

Astrid looked down at her hands, unsure of what to say. She understood perfectly well. Aries had lived the life that was supposed to be hers. She had been raised in the palace, trained for the throne, loved by the people. And now, Astrid had returned, throwing everything into chaos. The family didn’t know who to claim—the daughter they thought they’d lost, or the one they had come to love.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Astrid said quietly. “I didn’t ask to come back. I didn’t even know I was missing.”

“And yet, here you are,” Aries replied, her voice steady. “And they will want you to take your place. To be the queen you were born to be.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Astrid’s chest tightened. A part of her—a small, frightened part—wanted to run back to the life she knew. The simple, quiet life in the cottage where no one expected anything from her. But deep down, another part of her stirred. The part that had always felt restless, that had always known she was meant for more.

“What about you?” Astrid asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve been doing this your whole life. Don’t you want to be queen?”

Aries hesitated, her smile faltering for just a moment. “I’ve been prepared for it. But you are the true princess. The throne belongs to you.”

Astrid saw it then, the flicker of fear in Aries’s eyes. The uncertainty. Aries had been raised to be queen, but with Astrid’s return, everything she had been promised was now slipping from her grasp.

“I’m sorry,” Astrid said, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want to take anything away from you.”

Aries’s smile tightened. “It’s not about what you want, Astrid. It’s about what’s best for the kingdom. And you... you were always meant to be here.”

Astrid swallowed hard. Her mind was racing, torn between the life she knew and the life she was being thrust into. How could she be the princess they wanted her to be when she didn’t even remember them?

Before she could respond, the door opened again, and Queen Elara stepped inside, her expression soft and kind. “Aries, would you give us a moment?”

Aries rose from her seat, but not before offering Astrid one last lingering glance. There was a quiet intensity in her eyes, a warning, or perhaps a plea, that Astrid couldn’t quite understand. Then, with a graceful nod to her mother, Aries left the room.

Once they were alone, Queen Elara crossed the room and sat beside Astrid. Her presence was gentle, but Astrid could sense the weight of the years behind her eyes, the exhaustion of a mother who had spent so long searching for her lost child.

“Astrid,” she began, her voice soft, “I know this must be overwhelming for you. And I don’t expect you to remember everything right away. But you are my daughter. I know it in my heart. And whether you believe it or not, you are meant to be here.”

Astrid swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to find the right words. “I’m just... I’m afraid,” she admitted. “I don’t know how to be a princess. I don’t know how to be your daughter.”

Queen Elara reached out and took Astrid’s hand, her grip warm and reassuring. “You don’t need to be perfect, my darling. You only need to be yourself. The rest will come with time.”

Astrid nodded, though her mind still swirled with uncertainty. Time. Everyone kept saying that she needed time, but how much time would it take to bridge the gap between who she was and who they believed her to be?

Queen Elara smiled softly and stood, brushing her hand along Astrid’s hair. “Rest now. We will give you as much time as you need.”

With that, she left Astrid alone in the grand chamber, the door closing softly behind her. But as the quiet settled over the room, Astrid’s thoughts only grew louder. Her heart beat fast, tangled in confusion, fear, and a strange new yearning that she didn’t fully understand.

Was this truly where she belonged?

👑

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The castle was eerily quiet that night. Astrid lay on the massive bed in her chamber, staring up at the intricately carved ceiling. The faint glow of the moon filtered through the heavy drapes, casting long shadows across the room. Her thoughts spun relentlessly, torn between the life she had always known and the one being thrust upon her.

The final test. It was all anyone could talk about. Queen Elara had assured her time and again that it would only confirm what they already knew—that Astrid was indeed the lost princess. The prophecy, the birthmark, the magic of the royal bloodline—they all pointed to her. And yet, in her heart, Astrid still felt the gnawing uncertainty, the creeping fear that this life was never meant for her.

Rolling onto her side, she let out a sigh and gazed out of the window at the flickering lights of the kingdom. What would happen if the test proved her wrong? Would they simply send her back to the cottage, forgotten once again? And if the test confirmed her as the true princess, could she ever live up to the expectations that came with it?

There was a knock on the door, soft but firm. Astrid sat up, her heart racing slightly. "Come in," she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

The door opened, and Aries stepped inside, her movements graceful yet tense. She wore a long, dark gown, the deep blue fabric shimmering faintly in the low light. Her green eyes seemed brighter than usual, sharp and intense as they locked onto Astrid.

"Astrid," Aries said quietly, closing the door behind her. There was a brief pause, a moment of silence that stretched between them like a taut wire. "I came to see how you were holding up."

Astrid forced a smile, though it felt thin and fragile. "I'm... fine. Just nervous about tomorrow."

Aries crossed the room slowly, her steps measured, and sat down in a chair near the window. She didn’t say anything right away, instead watching Astrid with an inscrutable expression. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and deliberate. “I wanted to tell you something.”

Astrid sat up straighter, her curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

Aries took a deep breath, as though gathering her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this situation. About you, about the throne... about everything.” She paused, her fingers tracing the armrest of the chair. “And I want you to know that if tomorrow’s test proves that you’re the true princess, I will step aside.”

Astrid’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but Aries’s calm acceptance of the situation surprised her. “You would do that?”

Aries nodded, though her expression remained tense. “Of course. It’s not my place to challenge the truth. If you’re the rightful heir, then the throne belongs to you. It always has.”

For a moment, Astrid didn’t know what to say. Part of her had feared that Aries would fight her for the throne, that she would see her as a rival. But this... this seemed almost too easy.

“Thank you,” Astrid said quietly, her voice soft. “That means a lot.”

Aries smiled, but there was something hard in her eyes, something that didn’t quite match the kindness in her voice. “Don’t thank me yet. Tomorrow will change everything. You’ll have a kingdom to rule, and the weight of the crown isn’t an easy burden to bear.”

Astrid swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She had never thought about the reality of ruling, of what it would mean to be queen. The responsibility, the expectations, the pressure—it all felt like too much. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Aries leaned forward slightly, her green eyes gleaming. “No one is ever truly ready. But if you are the princess, you’ll find the strength. It’s in your blood.”

Astrid looked down at her hands, her mind a whirlwind of doubt and fear. Was it really in her blood? Could she ever be the ruler they wanted her to be?

Before she could respond, Aries stood, her movements fluid and graceful. “Good night, Astrid,” she said softly, turning toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Astrid watched her leave, the quiet click of the door closing behind her echoing in the stillness of the room. She lay back down, but sleep didn’t come easily. Her mind raced, replaying Aries’s words over and over again, mingling with the distant sounds of the kingdom outside.

👑

The next morning dawned cold and gray, a light mist hovering over the castle grounds. Astrid dressed in a simple gown, her fingers trembling slightly as she fastened the clasps. Today would be the day everything changed, one way or another.

The test was to be performed in the grand hall, a place reserved for only the most significant of royal ceremonies. The entire court had gathered—nobles, advisors, and servants alike, all waiting in hushed anticipation. Queen Elara and King Edric stood at the far end of the hall, their expressions unreadable, though Astrid could see the flicker of hope in her mother’s eyes.

The grand hall was bathed in golden light from the towering windows, casting long, dramatic shadows across the marble floor. At the center of the room stood an ancient stone altar, its surface engraved with the sigils of the royal bloodline. It was here that the test would be conducted, the final proof of Astrid’s identity.

Astrid’s heart raced as she approached the altar, her footsteps echoing in the vast space. She could feel the weight of every gaze upon her—some curious, some hopeful, and some, like Aries’s, cool and distant.

At the altar stood an elderly mage, his long white beard trailing down his chest. His robes were deep purple, adorned with symbols of ancient magic. He nodded to Astrid as she stepped forward, his eyes wise and piercing.

“Princess Astrid,” he began, his voice deep and resonant, “the test we are about to perform has been passed down through generations of your bloodline. It will reveal the truth of your identity, beyond any doubt.”

Astrid nodded, though her throat felt tight. She glanced briefly at her parents, who stood side by side, their faces filled with a mix of anticipation and fear. Aries stood slightly behind them, her expression carefully neutral.

The mage raised his hands, chanting in a language Astrid didn’t understand. The air around her seemed to hum with energy, a soft, thrumming pulse that made her skin tingle. The room grew silent, the only sound the low murmur of the mage’s incantation.

A warm glow began to emanate from the altar, spreading slowly outward until it encircled Astrid in a soft, golden light. The glow pulsed gently, like the beating of a heart, and Astrid felt a strange sensation wash over her—a deep, almost instinctual connection to something ancient and powerful.

The mage’s voice rose, his hands moving in intricate patterns. The golden light grew brighter, filling the room with its warm glow. Astrid’s heart raced, her breath shallow. She could feel something stirring deep within her, something old and forgotten, rising to the surface.

And then, with a sudden, blinding flash, the light flared and dimmed, leaving the room in hushed stillness.

The mage stepped back, his eyes wide with awe. He turned to face the court, his voice steady and sure. “It is done. The bloodline has spoken. She is the true princess.”

A collective gasp swept through the room, followed by murmurs of excitement and relief. Astrid stood frozen, her mind reeling. It was true. She was the princess. She was the rightful heir to the throne.

Queen Elara rushed forward, her eyes filled with tears as she embraced Astrid. “My daughter,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I knew it. I always knew it.”

Astrid hugged her mother back, though her mind was still spinning. The test had confirmed what everyone wanted to believe, but she still felt like the same person she had always been—uncertain, lost, and out of place.

As the court erupted into applause, Astrid glanced toward Aries, who stood at the edge of the crowd, her expression unreadable. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Astrid could see the flicker of something dark and complicated behind Aries’s calm facade.

But before she could dwell on it, her father approached, his smile wide and proud. “You’ve come home, Astrid,” he said warmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “And now, we can begin to prepare you for your future as queen.”

Astrid nodded, though her heart clenched with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Her future as queen. It still felt like a distant, unreachable dream, one she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

But ready or not, the truth was out. She was Princess Astrid, the rightful heir to the throne.

And nothing would ever be the same again.