NOTE: i know i already wrote this but i hate the ending i came up with for the next parts so I’m changing part Two… SORRY! This just feels too cliche for me… the marrying the prince trope is getting old… 😅

Im restless, pacing back and forth in front of the admission office. It has been 24 hours since I filled out the form.

One day after filling it out, you are to return and wait for your certificate. You are to stand in line and the person working the desk (that foul lady who called me a child) is to bring you the certificate. They then tell you where you will work, the materials needed, and how to do it.

Im unsure if she will even give me a certificate- what if she threw my form away? Maybe it is childish for me to want to be royal.

But at the same time- a form has never been refused. You would be suprised at some of the jobs they have to accept.

One year they even let a girl be a theif because thats what she wanted to be.

The line was dying down inside, so i walked through the doors, taking my place at the end.

Here we go again….

“Next!” The woman calls for the millionth time. I almost tell her to shut it, but i dont want to be kicked out.

The guy at the front of the line cheers as he leaves the room, certificate in hand. I glance at the title. He is a professional race Hovercar driver. Ive never driven a hovercar, i find its much easier and faster to avoid air-trafic by using regular cars, but it seems interesting enough.

A girl came up to the desk, her face almost as red as her hair.

“I told you. I dont have a childhood dream job!!! I dont want a job at all!” She yells. The horrible woman at the desk yells back, “well then get out! Be homeless for all i care!”. The girl storms out of the office, everyone eyeing her.

“Next!“ Finally, once again, i am in front.

I walk up to the desk, the woman on her phone, not even looking up at me. “Name?” She asks. “August Whitlock.” I reply. She looks up at me a scowls. “Of course the 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 is back for her throne.” She grumbles.

“I will be right back,” she adds, lazily getting out of her chair.

Be right back? Everyone else just got handed a certificate and left… it must mean they have declined my form.

I will be the first person in history to be refused. My stomach twists in knotts and i feel faint. I look down at the ground, tears threatning to spill past my eyes.

No- i cant cry. Im strong. I am 𝘯𝘰𝘵 weak.

I stand taller, trying to keep my face a blank stare. Emotionless.

I stare at the clock.

1 minute goes by. Then 2… when i look back at the clock 15 minutes have gone by. Where did she go?

Finally, the door opens, revealing the woman and…

𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯.

Why is the king here? Does that mean i can be queen?

King Julian holds out a hand. I shake it firmly, and so does he. I know he does not trust me. I don’t trust him either. We both want power- yet only one of us can have it.

“Hello Mrs. Whitlock. I am here to escort you to the castle. There will be a coronation this evening, and you will be crowned Queen.” Both fear and excitement flow through me. I will be Queen. All I’ve ever wanted will be granted to me tonight.

He leans closer, whispering in my ear. “This is only for a week, i hope you remember. And then you will be as powerless as everyone else. I hope you understand that I’m the one with power here. Okay?” He asks fiercely.

He pulls away, smiling sweetly, as if he just told me something nice.

I smile back, not giving him the satisfaction of saying yes. I wont be controlled with fear. He may have the power right now, but i have something far worse. Determination.

Because while he has everything, i have nothing to lose.