short story, story promptKian is the proud ruler of his kingdom, but when an heiress turns up claiming that his father stole the throne, he stands to lose everything…


Kian gazed smugly at the gathering of richly-dressed nobles, their dazzling jewellery winking and sparkling in the light of the thousands of candles that hung from the chandeliers. It seemed each man or woman had tried to outdo every other person, dressing themselves in vibrant colours and adorning themselves with their best ornaments. It was the best chance of the year to show off their wealth and also to garner new trade partnerships and forge new alliances between families.

Obviously, he himself was dressed and adorned more richly than any of them. As king, it was only fitting. He could tell by the envious stares of the men and the longing looks from the women that he had achieved his goal of being the best-dressed person of the event. He nodded to himself. As it should be.

He surreptitiously adjusted his heavy gold crown. Encrusted with jewels, it was truly magnificent, but it was also extremely heavy. As much as he loved wearing it and showing it off, he usually limited the wearing of it to the public events. He could already feel the strain in his neck from the weight of it.

“The adulation is worth the pain,” he murmured to himself.

A buzz of excitement rose from the entryway and rapidly spread through the entire hall. People had started whispering and staring in the direction of the grand doors that led into the room. Kian had to resist the urge to get to his feet and see what all the fuss was about. He was the king. He didn’t rise for anyone.

He was beginning to get extremely frustrated as the minutes ticked by. It was obvious that he was no longer the centre of attention. Someone was stealing the worship of his noblemen. Did they not understand that he was king? No one should dress themselves in a way that outshone their own king. Perhaps I need to pass a new law about that, he fumed to himself.

That’s when he saw her. Making her way through the crowd, a young woman smiled at those she passed. She even stopped to talk to several of the people, who smiled back at her. He finally understood how she had stolen the attentions of his lords and ladies. She was perfection. She was beautiful, graceful and exquisitely dressed. Her ebony hair shimmered in the candlelight, twisted into an elegant knot and studded through with diamonds. She seemed to radiate with a warm glow and even from this distance, he could tell that her eyes were a stunning emerald green. The full ball gown she wore reflected the colour of her eyes and was edged in silver. A delicate silver tiara winked in the light.

Who is she?

As if sensing his gaze, she glanced at him. For a second, her eyes were warm and friendly. A split-second later, they were cold as ice, pinning him with a glare that he could not fathom. She turned away from him and he sat back in his throne, stunned. She hates me! She really hates me. But why?

He turned to his trusted advisor. “Fetch that woman to me,” he ordered.

Moments later, the beauty stood before him. Her eyes were still cold and never wavered from his face.

Conscious that all eyes in the ballroom were now on them, Kian cleared his throat. “Dear lady, if you would please enlighten us all and tell us who you are?”

“Certainly,” she replied. “My name is Serafina and I am the rightful heir to this throne. I have come to take it back.”

Absolute silence followed her statement. Kian found himself stunned by her for a second time. He couldn’t get a response together before she turned to the room full of people.

“You all know that before this false king, there was another false king, this man’s father,” she said, pointing at his chest. “His father stole the throne from the true king, poisoning him and killing him. This traitor also tried to kill the only heir, a mere baby at the time.” She put both hands against her heart. “Me. He tried to have me killed, but my mother bought me time and my nurse carried me away to safety.”

Murmurs were growing in the crowd and Kian could see more than one nodding head. Anger boiled in his veins. How dare this woman try to steal his throne from him? It was his. It was true that his father had not been the original king at the time, but he had been the old king’s cousin and had been the only suitable heir at the time of the old king’s death. But his father had not killed anyone. The old king had died of natural causes in his sleep, and the baby heir had been stillborn. Everyone knew this.

No. It was his throne. This was his kingdom. She would not take it from him.

Is this one of your favourite 500-word-story-starters? Click the heart to like it and it may become a fully-fledged story! –>  1

<– Day 101     #    Day 103 –>