They still tell the legend of how she disappeared.


    The Queen who ruled with wisdom beyond her years, the youngest to ever wear the crown, the one chosen by the Rule of Alice itself—gone without a trace. No body. No crime. No farewell. No war. Only a whisper in the wind, a name spoken in hushed voices, and a throne left cold in the dead of night.


    For twelve years, the Kingdom of Eldros has lived under a different rule. One that does not guide but grips, one that does not nurture but strangles. The people speak her name only when no one else can hear. Queen Ornella.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Twelve years of suffering. Twelve years of waiting.


    But at last, her reign neared its end.


    The people dared to hope. The bells were being polished, the banners raised, the coronation prepared. Princess Elara—the golden princess, the promise of a better future—was ready to be crowned.


    But she never took the throne.


    On the eve of her ascension, she was found dead. Slain by an unknown hand. A golden mirror, shattered at her feet.


    And when the people thought justice would strike, when they whispered that the Rule of Alice would awaken and take Queen Ornella as it had taken all before her—the unspeakable happened.


    The great clock bell tower struck thirteen.


    A sound that had never been heard before. A time that should not exist.


    And yet there she stood. Queen Ornella. Proud. Unshaken. Untouched.


    The Rule of Alice had not taken her.


    It had done something far worse.


    It had let her stay.