Chapter 2: The Truth Buried in Blood
The girl was taken to the royal chambers under heavy guard — not as a prisoner, but as something far more dangerous.
A claimant.
The royal physicians confirmed it within hours. The birthmark was not a coincidence. It was hereditary, bound to a bloodline that only one branch of the royal family carried.
The King summoned the High Archivist.
Dusty records were brought forth, pages trembling in old ink.
And then the truth surfaced.
A child had indeed been born to the Queen fifteen years ago — a second daughter. Not the princess everyone knew.
That child had vanished the night of the palace fire.
And no record ever admitted she survived.
Outside the chamber, the arrogant princess paced furiously. “This is treason,” she snapped at the guards. “They’re fabricating lies to steal my throne!”
But inside, the King stared at the girl with something between hope and terror.
“If you are who this mark says you are…” he said slowly, “then everything I built… everything I believed… is a lie.”
The girl’s voice cracked.
“I don’t want your throne.”
A pause.
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“I just want to know why I was thrown away.”
And somewhere deep in the palace, a hidden door that had been sealed for fifteen years quietly unlocked itself for the first time.
