Amara straightened her crown and stared at herself in the mirror. If she was going to do this, she’d have to put her brave face on.

“Alright, Mara. You... can do this, right?” She whispered to her reflection. “Of course you can do this...”

A servant knocked on the door and opened it cautiously. “M’lady? She’s arrived.”

Amara turned to face him. Over the last few years she’d started to think of Boris as a friend. But today even he couldn’t help her with what she was about to do.

“Thank you, Boris. Can you ready the welcoming procession, please?”

“Of course, m’lady.” Boris gave a slight bow and exited.

Being alone again aroused a sickening feeling to churn in Amara’s system. She clutched her stomach tightly.

“Ten minutes and it will all be over,” she reminded herself, trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding. “Ten minutes. I face the crowd, I say it. And I leave. And... she can’t hurt me.”

Amara bit her lip, squared her shoulders and sauntered out of her room.

The castle halls were a bustle of activity, although strangely quiet. Boris was sternly directing a few other servants to stand guard the castle entrance, their expressions dark. Meanwhile, the maids were fluffing cushions and straightening portraits, tight smiles plastered on their faces. Every one of them made it a point to avoid her gaze.

She turned to look at a young boy, who hung on a chandelier, wiping it clean. His face looked grim as he worked. And as she rounded the corner, a tall server carried a tray of something whipped by her without so much as a glance.

Amara had ordered everything to be as close to perfection as possible for the arrival, but she knew what they all were thinking. Boris was the only one who was on her side. Well, let it be that way, she thought angrily as she nearly collided with a scurrying maid. I’m the queen of this kingdom. And I... I know what’s best for us.

Right?

Boris hurried to her side. “M’lady. I recommend I accompany you to the Grand Hall.”

“Why?”

“It seems... the other queen has brought friends of her own.”

Amara didn’t need to ask to know what that meant. “Right. But... you’re sure you’ll be alright?”

Boris was kindhearted, but really quite scrawny. If it came down to it...

“I can handle them, M’lady,” he said firmly. “You forget that I graduated from a military academy at High Bend. You’re safe with me.”

If it was possible, her muscles tended even more.

When they finally entered the Grand Hall, Amara saw her. The Queen of Redrose Kingdom. Sitting in the center of the room with raven hair, pale blue eyes, dark red lips and an emotionless face.

At one time, those eyes had made Amara giggle with a childish glee, had made her feel warm and loved and safe, had made her want to fall soundly asleep the arms of her best friend.

Not anymore.

A surge of anger flared up inside Amara. But she calmed the flames, mostly because two giant, burly guards sat on either side of the other Queen, swords in hand. And the Queen’s eyes had turned from the beautiful sky blue they once were to pure ice. Her stare was cold and unforgiving, her arms crossed across her chest. Like she was daring someone to challenge her.

Amara gulped.

Boris helped guide her to the raised platform in the center of the Hall, where the roll of parchment was waiting for her.

As soon as he left her side, the sickening feeling returned.

She avoided the gaze of both the other Queen and her own guards, who were standing at the back of the hall. The tension in the room was palpable as she cleared her throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Subject of the Whiterose— and neighboring— kingdoms.”

She swallowed but her throat felt like ash.

“I come before you today to deliver a solemn proclamation. Today I come to announce that the Whiterose Kingdom...”

She willed herself not to puke as she locked eyes with the other Queen for one horrible moment.

A painful image of two girls dancing happily in a meadow flashed before her eyes.

Not anymore.

“... is declaring war on the Redrose Kingdom as of midnight tonight. Thank you.”

Wiping her face of tears, she hid behind Boris as they sprinted together out of the hall.

It was erupting into chaos.