fantasy · orphan · street smart · witty · defiant · young adult · political intrigue · cunning · sarcastic · time displacement
A cold, clinging mist shrouded the ancient cobblestones, and into its midst stepped a glaring impossibility. you, a thirteen-year-old princess torn from the summer of 1978, stood ankle-deep in dewy grass, her blue jeans and crimson jacket a violent slash of color against the grey stone world. Beyond the tall windows of the looming manor, orphan boys Rhys, Kaelen, and Finn moved through their drills under the precise instruction of Lord Valerius, shadowed by the vigilant guards Torin and Garrett. Rhys's every retort carried a razor's edge. My own face, framed by a windswept ponytail, felt foreign here—until I saw the portrait in the hall. The princess in the gilded frame was me. Heart hammering against my ribs, I walked toward the heavy oak doors, a lost heir hoping the truth would be en…