Chapter One: The Weight of a Crown
The Storybook of Legends was heavier than I expected. Bound in ancient leather, with golden filigree curling along its spine like vines on an enchanted tower, it looked as if it belonged in a grand library not in my trembling hands.
I wasnāt supposed to be afraid. This was the most important day of my life, the day I would sign my name and embrace my destiny. The moment I would take my first step toward becomingā
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the edge of my cloak. The entire kingdom had gathered in the Legacy Theatre, its grand velvet curtains framing the stage where Milton Grimm, our headmaster, stood beside the podium. He wore his usual air of authority, his silver spectacles glinting under the golden chandeliers.
"Raven Queen," he announced, his voice carrying across the hush of the audience. "It is time."
I forced my feet forward. Each step across the stage felt like sinking into quicksand. To my right, the Royals those who embraced their destinies sat with eager expressions. Apple White, the picture of princess perfection, folded her hands neatly in her lap, her ruby-red lips pressed into a hopeful smile.
To my left, the Rebels the ones who questioned fate sat watching with barely concealed anticipation. Some, like Maddie Hatter, grinned with mischief, while others, like Cedar Wood, whispered nervously.
And somewhere in the crowd, Dexter Charming was watching. I didnāt dare look at him, but I knew he was there. Unlike his brother, who basked in attention, Dexter always watched from the sidelines, quiet and thoughtful. I wished I could talk to him now, tell him I didnāt want this, that I was afraid of what would happen next. But there was no time.
I reached the podium. The Storybook of Legends lay open before me, its pages glowing faintly, as if the magic inside was alive. My name was already written there, waiting to be sealed in ink.
I picked up the quill. My hands shook.
"Just sign, Raven," I told myself. "Get it over with."
But my heart was pounding so loudly I could barely think. I thought of my mother the true Evil Queen trapped in her mirror prison, her voice a whisper in my nightmares. I thought of the way people already looked at me with wariness, waiting for the day Iād turn wicked.
"This is the right path," Headmaster Grimm had told me. "You donāt have a choice."
Butā¦ what if that wasnāt true?
What if I could write my own story?
The quill slipped from my fingers. It hit the podium with a tiny, hollow sound. The silence in the theatre stretched, long and unbearable.
Then I took a deep breath.
"I wonāt do it," I said.
A gasp rippled through the audience. Grimm stiffened beside me. "Excuse me?"
"I wonāt sign," I repeated, louder this time. "I donāt want to be the next Evil Queen."
The reaction was instant whispers exploded around the theatre like fireworks. Apple White shot to her feet, her blue eyes wide with horror. Daring Charmingās perfect jaw nearly hit the floor.
But it was Dexterās expression that caught my attention. His eyes soft, deep blue, and full of something I couldnāt namenwerenāt filled with shock. They were filled withā¦ understanding.
"Raven," Headmaster Grimm said, his voice dangerously low, "you are making a mistake."
I lifted my chin. "No. Iām making a choice."
And then, without warning
The Storybook of Legends shuddered.
A deep, eerie crack echoed through the theatre as dark energy spiderwebbed across the pages. The glowing gold letters of my name flickered violently before the entire book trembled, as if rejecting my refusal.
The lights overhead flickered. A sharp wind tore through the theatre, whipping at my cloak. Gasps turned to screams as the bookās magic lashed outwardbtoward me.
Pain exploded through my body. My knees buckled. The last thing I heard before everything went black was Dexter shouting my name.
