Cassia grew up knowing that one day, the world would be set on her shoulders.
Being Crown Princess, such weight was more than expected. She grew up surrounded by castle walls and dressed in the finest fabrics; responsibility was a small price to pay to have everything.
Her mother made it look so easy. Queen Theodora, second of her name, always carried herself with the grace and elegance expected from the title bearer. No matter how heavy the burden, how high the mountain, how wide the river, her mom would shoulder it, climb it, cross it with her chin held high. She was everything Cassia wanted to be.
“The secret,” she’d told her once, “is to act invincible, even when you are not.”
Cassia seemed concerned. “And you’re not?”
Her mom smiled, and rested a gloved hand on her shoulder, warm through the fabric despite the cold. “I’m not, darling. But I have to try, for our kingdom, for our family. For you,” she added, gaining a shy smile from her daughter. “Such is the weight of the crown.”
As the years flew by, Cassia grew more aware of what she meant. There was a hallway in the castle, so long she wasn’t sure it ever ended, of every king, queen and monarch before her. Some were accompanied by a spouse, some had multiple, some were portrayed alone. All had children, apprentices, or descendants of another kind. Most shared with her a dark complexion and their family’s symbol, the Northern Star, but all of them had what she’d never seen in the mirror: a rigid posture, a confident tilt of the chin and a determined look that could slay monsters.
Below their names were their individual titles. Her namesake, Cassius, the Waterbringer. Gran-Gran, Theodora I, the Silver Bell. Her mother, the current and third ruler after the Curse was cast: Theodora II, the Just.
Cassia wondered what they’d write under her name. The Great, she joked in a letter, and Isidore soon wrote back. Too pretentious. The Cake Eater, maybe! She considered it briefly before discarding. She knew she wasn’t even queen yet, but she was nothing if not eager. The question persisted, until it carried over to a family dinner.
“The Greatest, Smartest, Beautifulest Daughter in the World,” offered her father with a smile on his face. Cassia wasn’t entirely sure he was joking.
“Beautifulest is not a word,” she pointed out.
“It can be, if you want it to.”
“Don’t encourage that mindset, Daniel,” her mother said, amused.
“She’s going to be queen one day, Thea. Adding beautifulest to the dictionary will be well within her powers!”
“You’re impossible.” Her mom rolled her eyes, but there was a grin growing on her face. Cassia had always admired her parents’ relationship. Queen Theodora would never smile like a schoolgirl at some silly remark, but her dad had a way of getting through to Thea.
“Think about it! Cassandra, the Grammar Rules Breaker!”
Her mom was full-on laughing now. Cassia laughed too, but the question was still on her mind.
She kept on thinking well past her bedtime. It was pitch-black outside, not a single star in sight. Even the twin moons were faltering, as if there wasn’t enough sunlight to reflect. Her family’s Northern Star brooch caught her eye, glistening in her nightstand like it didn’t know it wasn’t supposed to shine.
The Curse, the history books told her, changed the world as humanity knew it forever. Overnight, humans were turned into mindless monsters and the night sky was darkened by their dark souls. Now, Cassia would never see the same stars her namesake once had.
And so, looking out her window on a cold winter night, — not that they ever had any different, — Cassia decided the title she wanted to bear:
