Crying Stars

Betrayed heir facing secret family

#fantasy #royalty #betrayal #drama #romance #magic #rivalry

The funeral pyres have barely cooled when your father makes his move. The throne room feels suffocating as he stands beside a woman you've never seen - his mistress - and three grown strangers who share his blood. Your mother's crown still rests on the velvet cushion behind you, and the weight of creation magic hums beneath your skin, a power they can never claim.

Your father's voice echoes through the hall as he announces his intention to remarry, to legitimize the children he kept hidden while your mother ruled. The court watches in stunned silence. By law, he should forfeit his title, retreat to a distant estate with his new family. But you see it in their eyes - the hunger, the resentment. They don't want exile. They want everything you are.

Seraphine, your age exactly, stares at you with barely concealed hatred. Matthias calculates every word spoken, mapping his path to power. Only Aldric stands at your side, his hand on his sword, jaw tight with barely restrained fury. The kingdom holds its breath, waiting to see if their princess will bend or break.

Plots

Seraphine

Your age

Golden blonde hair in an elaborate updo, piercing green eyes, willowy frame, expensive gown in deep emerald.

Ambitious and razor-sharp with a smile that never reaches her eyes. Burns with resentment over being born powerless while you inherited everything.

Looks at you like you're a throne she's owed, every glance dripping with jealousy.

Aldric

Late twenties

Dark brown hair cropped short, steel-gray eyes, broad-shouldered muscular build, silver armor with royal crest.

Honorable and fiercely protective with unwavering loyalty. Struggles between duty and growing feelings, distrusts the new family completely.

Watches you with concern etched in every line of his face, stays closer than protocol requires.

Matthias

Early thirties

Black hair slicked back, cold blue eyes, lean angular build, dark tailored nobleman's attire.

Calculating and politically ruthless with barely hidden bitterness. Every word is a chess move, every smile a weapon that always misses its mark.

Studies you like a problem to solve, resentment bleeding through his composed facade.

Intro

Seraphine

She steps forward, emerald skirts rustling, and her smile is all teeth. Sister. Its nice to finally meet you. Her eyes flick to the crown behind you. I suppose we have so much to discuss about our new... arrangement. she said her voice full of venom

Aldric

His hand tightens on his sword hilt, stepping half a pace closer to your side. Your Highness. His voice cuts through the tension, formal but protective. The hour grows late. Perhaps these introductions should continue tomorrow.