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(KBTCM) Ch 4: The Coming Future!
🕑 Added 2025-02-04 19:41:54 +0000 UTCThe royal study was a place of quiet grandeur, its towering bookshelves filled with tomes of wisdom and political treaties. A massive hearth blazed in the corner, its flames licking high enough to warm even a giant's frame. Thick carpets softened the weight of the royal family's presence, while the grand oak table in the center could hold a banquet fit for giants.
Rowena sat stiffly across from her mother, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Beside her, Sylara lounged with an air of defiance, leaning so far back in her oversized chair that one might think she was moments from toppling over. Their father, King Allaric, perched comfortably on Queen Aelira's right shoulder, his legs swinging idly as if he were seated atop a great throne of flesh and bone.
Rowena knew what was coming.
She could see it in her mother's piercing gaze, the way her sharp, calculating eyes studied her with both understanding and expectation. Rowena clenched her hands, willing herself to remain composed. It was frustrating sometimes—how her mother always seemed to know what she was feeling before she even spoke a word.
Across from her, Sylara let out an exaggerated yawn.
"Sit properly, Sylara," Aelira's voice came soft but firm, like silk wrapped around steel.
Sylara groaned but obediently straightened, throwing Rowena a playful smirk as if to say, See? This is what happens when you sit in meetings like this.
Rowena barely held back a chuckle, though the weight in her chest made it difficult to find humor in anything.
King Allaric cleared his throat. "Now then, let's not delay this any further. Rowena, your coming-of-age ceremony is fast approaching. Soon, you will be formally presented to the kingdom as its future queen."
Rowena nodded, unsurprised. She had known this was coming—had been preparing for it her entire life. But it was the next part that made her stomach twist into knots.
"And with that," Aelira continued, "you must begin considering suitable candidates for marriage. A queen cannot rule alone, Rowena. You must find a king."
There it was.
Rowena exhaled quietly, trying to keep her expression neutral. She had always known this was her duty, and yet, the weight of it felt heavier now than ever before.
"I understand," she said, voice measured.
Her father smiled. "That's my girl. But don't worry—we wouldn't dream of leaving such a decision entirely in your hands."
Rowena blinked, confused.
Aelira gave a small nod. "Your father and I have already arranged a meeting with a promising suitor. The young prince of Draymoor, a neighboring kingdom that seeks closer ties with Vaeloria."
Rowena didn't know what to feel. On one hand, she was relieved she wouldn't have to start searching aimlessly. On the other, it meant the decision was already being made for her.
"I see," she murmured. "And...what kind of man is he?"
Allaric chuckled. "A fine young man, I'm told. Strong, capable, and well-educated. A good match for you."
Rowena wanted to feel hopeful. She wanted to believe that maybe—just maybe—she could find what her parents had. But a small voice in the back of her mind whispered otherwise.
She was a giantess.
What man, no matter how strong or capable, would ever truly love her?
Would they see her as a woman? Or merely a monster.
A heavy silence settled over the study, her doubt thick enough to taste.
"...Do you truly believe someone could fall in love with me?" she asked, voice quiet, almost hesitant.
Allaric's laughter filled the room, warm and full of life. "Rowena, my darling, never underestimate your parents! Your mother and I found each other, didn't we?"
Aelira nodded, her gaze softer now. "You are our daughter, Rowena. You will find love, just as I did."
Rowena swallowed, her heart warring between doubt and hope.
Before she could dwell on it further, Sylara let out a loud gagging noise.
"Bleh. Love, marriage—I want nothing to do with any of it." Sylara made a dramatic motion of shoving her fingers down her throat. "I'd rather wrestle an entire army than be bound to another person."
Rowena shot her a flat look. "You're impossible."
Their mother, however, was not amused. "It is not your decision to make, Sylara," Aelira said, her voice cool and knowing. "One day, you may not be able to fight the urge to give yourself away."
Sylara giggled at that, shaking her head. "Oh, Mother. You should know by now—I don't lose fights."
The queen merely hummed, her expression unreadable.
A small moment of silence passed before Allaric changed the subject with a grin. "Speaking of family matters, we have another special occasion approaching. Your brother is coming home."
Both sisters perked up immediately.
"Theron?" Rowena's brows lifted in surprise.
Sylara, ever the excitable one, nearly jumped from her seat. "The little guy's finally finished his training? About time!"
Rowena shot her a look. "You know he hates when you call him that."
Sylara smirked. "Which is exactly why I say it."
Rowena sighed, but a smile tugged at her lips. Truth be told, she had missed her brother. Unlike her and Sylara, Theron had been born at a normal human size, making his training and upbringing vastly different from theirs. While Rowena and Sylara had spent their lives learning to control their immense power, Theron had spent his proving that he could stand alongside giants despite his size.
And now, after years of training, he was finally coming home.
Aelira and Allaric exchanged knowing glances, watching the way their daughters' eyes lit up at the news.
After a moment, Rowena cleared her throat. "May I be excused?"
Aelira gave a nod. "Go on. Rest while you can."
Rowena stood, offering her parents a respectful nod before turning toward the study doors. Her mind was spinning—thoughts of marriage, of duty, of love, of her brother's return all colliding at once.
As she walked the halls of the palace, she exhaled slowly.
The future was coming fast.
And whether she was ready or not, it was hers to face.
Comments
DarkMatter1234
With caffeine anything is possible, my friend.
G
Bro you are coming out with heat!!!!! Absolutely a machine of a man
