Aurora’s Perspective

Helen’s smile never reached her eyes.

She stood beside the glittering palace fountain, chin lifted, fingers brushing the strap of her designer bag as if it were a crown. Her voice carried just loud enough for the nearby nobles to hear.

“Aurora in the hunt?” she scoffed lightly. “Oh, please. She’ll be lucky not to trip over her own feet. The King will regret letting her compete.”

A few sycophants hovered around her, nodding enthusiastically.

“She’s ...