The Dark Queen
Chapter 1
She was my queen and my cousin. Our families lived close to one another, and not having any sisters of my own, she became mine. Our parents often visited each other, which allowed Debra and I plenty of time to get into trouble. Of course, most of our days were spent learning manners, court customs, studying the bible, and doing all of the things a proper lady should know how to do. At night, Debra and I would stay up late, telling each other scary stories, and seeing who could frighten who the most. Sometimes our conversations would turn towards boys and princes, the number of children we wanted, the kingdoms we wanted to rule, as if we had a choice. We both already knew Debra's future.
Debra, they said, was a gift from the angels themselves. A bright girl with radiant blond hair and hazel eyes born in a land of shadows. The gypsies had declared she would bring great fortune to the one who married her. We all assumed her husband would be a king, and she was trained for such from the moment she was born. I was intended for a lesser lord, but that did not matter to me. There were many good strong families in Romania, and with very rich histories. The only question I had was which side of Romanian allegiance would I be married into.
The Ottomans had invaded when my father was still young. By the time he grew into a warrior, the country was lost. Romania became a vassal state of the Ottoman Empire, but still retained it's royalty and the right to govern it's own people. Many houses were still divided. Some chose to fight the Ottomans in an open act of rebellion. Those, I was taught, were our enemies. Debra's father and mine were loyal to the Romanian King, who had knelt down before the muslim invaders. It was this same King who arrived at Debra's father's castle when we were only sixteen. When he left, it was announced Debra would marry the King's eldest son and one day become Queen of Romania. Our houses' celebration was short lived. The King died two months later.
The King's eldest son decided to honor his father's agreement, and why wouldn't he? Debra was a gift from the angels. Arrangements for the wedding were hastily made, and our families traveled together to Bucharest. On the day of the wedding, I saw splendor I have never witnessed before. All of the loyal Romanian families were in attendance, as well as several powerful Ottomans. I held Debra's train that day, and marveled at the magnificence of the cathedral. Debra remained calm throughout the ceremony even though I knew she was a bundle of nerves. With the Bishop's final words, my cousin Debra became Queen of Romania at age sixteen. Everyone celebrated that night. It would be the last night Debra ever spent happy while she still drew a living breath.
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