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Deathworlders Should Not Be Allowed To Date! 57
🕑 Added 2024-10-21 17:19:24 +0000 UTCLuna VI query: Set the source to the translation logs of Princess Amara Auralyn.
As you wish!
Luna VI query: Tell me how Amara became the queen.
***
With her son cradled in her arms and Nathan at her side, Amara stood before the entrance of the Royal Palace. Towering pillars framed the large gate, which was typically a busy passage for delegates from other cities coming for an audience with the queen. Today, however, the gate was blocked. Aldrinch was arguing with the guards, who had been ordered by Amara’s mother to deny her entry.
Watching the frail elder bicker with the palace staff, Amara had no doubt she would eventually gain access. The only question was how long the guards would take to realize the inevitable power shoft. No matter how loyal they were to Khala, they could not resist the natural order; the young would always replace the old, a universal truth for all beings.
What truly concerned Amara, though, was the growing crowd gathering at the street’s edge, their curiosity piqued by the commotion. Some carried cameras, angling for a picture of her son. She had dressed him in human clothes, with a soft-brimmed hat to cover his ears and face. News reporters, eager for a scoop, attempted to climb the palace pillars in their camouflage, much to the frustration of her guards. They had to forcibly drag a few offenders down by their tails, a scene Amara found unfortunate to witness.
Nathan’s arm slid over her shoulder, pulling her closer. He whispered, “Are you sure we should’ve come to the palace with all our luggage and expect that your mother will just let us in?”
“Luggage?” Amara glanced at the lone suitcase beside Nathan. “All you own fits in that one bag.” She had lived with Nathan for nearly two harvests, yet she still couldn’t understand how he managed with so little. He could have anything he wanted delivered from the space station, and yet, she often found herself requesting extra clothes for him from Mia.
“Well, you’ve brought enough for both of us,” Nathan replied, gesturing toward the crates being pushed by Aldrinch’s servants, taking up much of the ramp.
Knowing this conversation would go nowhere, Amara finally answered his question about the queen. “Mother cannot keep us out for long. The elders and their clans are already inside waiting for us. The longer she refuses, the faster what little power she has left erodes.”
Still holding her close, Nathan whispered, “I just think we could’ve waited to move in. Maybe do this in a less public way.”
Amara lowered her voice. “It is important that people see this. Pictures of us entering the palace will leave no doubt that I am about to become their new queen.”
She wanted to say more—especially about keeping their son’s name secret until they were in front of the elders—but her son’s tiny hands tugged at her hair, pulling her focus away.
“Want me to hold him?” Nathan offered.
“No. Today, he is all mine,” she said, gently guiding her son’s hands to play with her tail instead.
He was her proof, her triumph against all odds. Biased as she might be, Amara saw her son as something extraordinary—a being who, one day, could carry the future of her species beyond the boundaries of Irisa. Looking into his green eyes, she saw infinite potential, the kind that ignited a desire in her to teach him everything—first the good, and later, the bad and the ugly. She only hoped others would see him the same way. Deep down, she feared his rejection by her people, though she kept that fear unspoken.
Amara was lost in thought, comforted by Nathan’s presence, when a raised voice broke her reverie.
“Careful, Princess!”
She turned to see a group pushing past the guards, trying to breach the security perimeter. The guards struggled against the crowd, who shoved with their shoulders and tails. Amara quickly read the group’s shifting colors, their yellow hues spoke of something rare—hope, on a planet once resigned to destruction.
A few of the onlookers managed to cross the line. Amara’s instincts told her they posed no threat, but Nathan’s arm left her shoulders, his hand reaching for the gun concealed behind his jacket.
Amara stopped him with her tail. “Wait,” she murmured.
As the group slowed, their tails coiling around their legs and claws relaxed, Amara’s concern shifted to shielding her son’s face. But even that wasn’t necessary.
The first to approach was an elderly woman, just slightly younger than Aldrinch. She stopped a few steps away and, in a clear, steady voice, proclaimed, “Bow to the Grand Matriarch!”
"Grand Matriarch?" Amara blinked in confusion. Before she could grasp the meaning, the elder bowed deeply. She was the first of dozens who had gathered before her, each one bowing in turn. Row after row of Irisians formed, all seemingly drawn to this spontaneous display of respect—or so it seemed.
Amara had witnessed such gestures throughout her life, but they always felt either like a formality born from tradition or reverence driven by fear of punishment. But what she was seeing now felt entirely different. The waves of yellow on their skin. The shared aura that spread like a contagion. Their closed eyes, exuding unwavering trust. And on top of that, this group had risked injury to show their respect for her.
"Raise your heads," she commanded.
Yet none obeyed. For a brief moment, she couldn’t hide her surprise, faint traces of purple blooming around her neck. She exchanged a glance with Nathan, who seemed equally bewildered, then looked toward Aldrinch. From his place by the palace gate, his skin shimmered in a shade of gold she had never seen on him before.
She glanced back at her guards, who had stopped blocking the way. Instead, they simply observed, letting the crowd approach. What had been chaotic moments earlier had now become a peaceful gathering, a perfect circle of bowing Irisians surrounding her and her family. It was an order that had emerged naturally, without coordination.
Realizing she had become part of something far larger than herself, Amara stepped forward and used her tail to lift the head of the elder woman who had first spoken. "Why did you call me the Grand Matriarch?"
The elder’s skin flushed with light purple. "The rumors," she said hesitantly, before her voice grew firmer. "Many were skeptical when we heard you had taken a human as your chosen and ventured to the old mountains, returning with an impossible child in your belly." Her eyes flicked to the crowd before raising her voice. "But it's true—I saw his ears and his green eyes."
Amara’s jaw dropped. She hadn’t even known if her pregnancy had begun in the mountains or afterward. But the elder continued, her certainty unwavering.
"The Grand Matriarch once led our people from the harsh valleys of the Ebon Range to the prosperity beneath the lifeline. You haven’t even sat on the throne, and you’ve already convinced the humans to save our planet." Fleeting black spots appeared on the elder’s skin, only to be overtaken by vivid yellow. "Who does Khala think she is, keeping you outside? You have a chosen and an heir! No one can deny you your birthright." She turned to the crowd. "If Khala doesn’t understand that, we will take you to the throne ourselves!"
The elder's words sent ripples through the gathered Irisians. Red surged through the crowd like blood spreading across the street. In response, Amara’s guards shifted to light purple, tense but composed. The palace guards, however, were overwhelmed. Their skin turned a deep purple, their ears flattening in submission.
Amara’s heart raced as she realized how many of her people were willing to fight for her. Her tail tightened around Nathan’s wrist, and she found herself staring at the countless eyes fixed on her, waiting for her command.
"I..." She struggled to find words, not out of fear but because of the immense responsibility that weighed down on her. The realization of her power struck her with more force than even the moment Sally had recognized her as her species' representative.
Stealing a glance at Nathan for reassurance, she addressed the crowd. "I appreciate your loyalty, but none of you should risk yourselves for this."
"But, my queen—" the elder began.
"We defeated Zandrid in the valleys," Amara interrupted. "An old queen whose time has passed is not a threat."
It wasn’t bravado. She knew she had the backing of most elders, and now, with the inhabitants of Caladris seemingly on her side, it was only a matter of time before she had them all. Besides, she suspected her mother’s defiance was less about retaining power and more a petty act against Nathan and her for what they had done to Zandrid.
The elder bowed once more, the red fading from her skin. "We understand, my queen. We shall await your good news." Slowly, the crimson receded from the streets, the tension in the air lifting.
Amara turned toward the palace gate and her eyes widened—the path was now clear. Her mother’s guards had stepped aside without needing further persuasion from Aldrinch.
With her tail still wrapped around Nathan’s wrist and her son securely held against her, Amara walked through the crowd. Her guards fell in step behind her, forming an escort without needing any orders.
As she approached Aldrinch, his skin radiated a vibrant yellow. "Thank you, young one," he said, his voice filled with reverence. "I never imagined I’d live to witness such a pivotal moment for our people."
"I still can’t comprehend why so many of them would risk themselves for me without even being asked." In her relatively short life, Amara had seen her people come together many times, but every instance had been preceded by long deliberations—meetings where rewards were carefully divided in case of success.
"You were born in a time of misfortune," Aldrinch said, his gaze drifting back to the crowd. "All you’ve known is our people uniting against fear and despair. What you saw today was something different—union born of hope. That’s the force that built Caladris and the other underground cities. It used to drive all our progress before we lost it, worn down by the endless fight against the inevitable fall of our star."
"Hope..." Amara repeated, letting the word settle in her thoughts.
Aldrinch continued, "Go now. The palace guards won’t stand in your way anymore. The path to the antechamber of the main hall is clear. Once you present your heir to the clans and share his name, you’ll be officially recognized for what you already are." His eyes flicked toward Nathan. "You take her to the antechamber. I’ll join the other elders in the main hall. I can’t risk losing my front-row seat to some clan heir brat."
"Yes, sir," Nathan replied with a smile, exchanging a glance with Amara as Aldrinch turned and made his way through the gates at his own slow pace. Just as she had predicted, Aldrinch had gradually warmed to Nathan, and though the elder remained reserved, Amara knew he had already accepted Nathan as her chosen.
Taking one last look at the sea of eyes watching her, Amara observed Nathan retrieve his suitcase and ask a few of her guards to bring their luggage inside. He had clearly grown accustomed to the perks of being her chosen.
Their path forward was led by Amara, as neither Nathan nor the guards had navigated the vast halls of the Royal Palace before. As she walked, memories from her childhood rushed in—times when she, Elysira, and even Zandrid had run through these corridors, hiding from servants and playing pranks on the elders, Aldrinch being their favorite target.
But now, everything felt different. The doors seemed smaller, the grandeur artificial, and the guards less imposing. Still, there was a hope in her heart that one day, this palace could offer her son the same joy it had once given her, without those memories being ruined later by greed, tragedy, or the countless disappointments with her mother.
The final corridor to the antechamber was unexpectedly empty, free of the guards and confrontation she had anticipated. Nathan sighed in relief when they found the door ajar, revealing a room filled with artwork and luxurious furniture. Her guards naturally took their positions by the door, giving the three of them privacy inside.
Leaving the boy with his father, Amara found a mirror to adjust her hair and change clothes, replacing her casual wear with a beautiful yet practical dress, secured by a belt and supported by her tail.
"How do I look?" She spun slowly, letting Nathan see the full effect of her fine attire.
"You always look perfect," Nathan smiled, holding their son, whose wide eyes were fixed on her in fascination.
Amara’s skin shifted to a soft yellow as she smiled back. Tossing the boy’s little hat aside, she checked him over one last time, preparing to introduce him to the world.
"Last chance to come with me," she reminded Nathan, referring to the fact that if he didn’t stand with her today, the clans would see him as distant from their politics—her chosen, but nothing more.
"Nah." Nathan grinned, transferring the boy into her arms, careful to avoid her claws. "I’m happy leaving the politics to you while I keep exploring the planet. Having a queen as a sugar mama isn’t too bad."
The first time Nathan had used that term, Amara had nearly choked on her drink, prompting her to pull up a translation popup to understand the context. By now, though, she knew how to play along. "I can be your sugar mama here, but you better get your bank account ready for when we go to Earth. You know I have high standards."
The panic on his face was priceless, and with that, she turned toward the narrow corridor leading to the main hall. There, she would emerge from behind a black curtain onto an elevated platform, high above the crowd.
"Good luck in there!" Nathan called after her.
Amara glanced back, letting a brief wave of emotion—a soft yellow with a trace of purple—show on her skin, a hint of the anxiety only he was allowed to see.
"Luck is for the weak," she replied before disappearing into the narrow corridor. Through the gaps in the black curtain, the distant brightness of the main hall was already visible.
Her heartbeat quickened as she drew closer to the curtains, imagining the hall packed with people waiting for her. But before she could reach them, a figure emerged from the shadows. The sight of the unfamiliar shape sent a rush of alarm through her, and her claws stiffened as she held her son tightly with her tail.
Then she recognized the face.
Her mother.
Amara’s body relaxed—just slightly. Though no longer fearing an assassination attempt, she braced herself for an undoubtedly unpleasant conversation.
"You believe you are ready to replace me and yet did not even pay me a visit first?" Khala stepped closer, her eyes fixed on Amara, her emotions carefully masked. "How rude."
"Rude?" Amara held her son protectively. "You have no right to speak of rudeness after the scene you caused at my doorstep."
Amara had prepared herself for a lengthy exchange of insults and accusations, but her mother’s focus shifted to the baby. Her voice softened. "You did not even invite me to see him when he was born—healthy, against all odds."
Amara wished for more than just the cold blue on Khala’s skin. "Invite you? When was the last time we spoke about anything personal? Perhaps since Zandrid swore to take my head and you just watched?"
Only after speaking did Amara realize she had revealed more than she intended.
Khala went silent for a moment, a hint of gray appearing at her neck. "You are a mother now. Just one. But if it was two, do you think you could choose which of your children lives and which dies better than me?"
"If you think your mistake was in the inability to choose, then we have nothing further to discuss." Amara’s words came out sharper than intended, a faint trace of red creeping up her neck and arms. "When I was young, you demanded nothing less than perfection from me, while Zandrid was allowed to do whatever he pleased." She paused, keeping her voice steady, determined not to cause a scene. "I grew up believing you despised me, while he thought you were indifferent."
The gray on Khala’s skin deepened, her voice weak. "You were always meant to be my successor, not him." Khala’s gaze met Amara’s. "You might face the same challenge. Half human or not, the elders will want a daughter."
"Nathan and I will make our own decisions. No one will pressure us into anything." Amara’s reply came quickly, though she had never fully considered that particular issue before now.
Khala didn’t argue. Instead, her voice grew even softer. "Tradition is stronger than you think, and the elders are less forgiving than you realize."
Amara opened her mouth but found herself momentarily at a loss for words.
"They will listen to me." When she spoke again, her tone was confident, her words flowing naturally. "With humanity’s support and the people in the streets behind me, they will have no choice but to hear me."
Cradling her son tightly, Amara pressed forward, leaving her mother behind. She stepped through the curtains, her eyes adjusting to the bright light of the vast hall ahead.
As her vision cleared, Amara was taken aback by the sheer number of attendees. The stunned expressions of the clans, hundreds of eyes facing the baby in her arms. Aldrinch was there, seated in the front row as promised. Elder Eengara and her descendants occupied the entire second row. Elder Resra was at the back, and even Khevor had attended with his clan. The younger generation, particularly those familiar with Zaenvalor, showed visible concern, aware of the unresolved tension between them.
In the back, clan members her age were clustered together, likely gossiping about her or regretting that they had never bothered to befriend her—or even pretend not to be repelled by her personality.
As their eyes fixed on her son, their ears twitched in anticipation of her first words as queen. Amara took in the scene, recognizing familiar faces and the hovering cameras that would broadcast her every word.
Faced with the weight of choosing her first words as queen, a moment of clarity struck her. No matter how carefully she crafted her speech, she knew that what would truly be remembered wasn’t her words, but her son. And when it came to the choice between fighting to redirect attention away from him or addressing the subject directly, her decision was clear.
"His name is Argor." She stepped to the edge of the platform and lifted her son for all to see, his green eyes meeting those of the elders and their heirs.
Seeing that many were too stunned to react, she continued, "He is half Irisian and half human. He is the reason that, after today, you will call me your queen. And more than giving me the right to claim the royal succession, he is also the reason humanity agreed to save Irisa."
Hints of yellow began to ripple through the elders, while the younger generation’s eyes, though curious, remained indifferent—as expected, given the improbability of Argor’s existence.
"Argor will grow strong and healthy. He carries both our camouflage and the endurance of humans. When he grows up, he will be remarkable, like no other." Amara scanned the room, deliberately seeking out the faint traces of envy she knew would be there.
"My biggest fear is that he will grow up alone among us and the humans who will visit in the future. So, if any of you see a human walking through the streets of Caladris... one who isn’t already taken..."
Noticing Aldrinch’s disapproving gaze, Amara left her sentence hanging, intentionally vague. A wave of hushed whispers and mixed reactions followed her bold half-suggestion. She knew it was time to retreat to Nathan and hope her mother wasn’t bothering him. After all, it was better to have her first speech as queen criticized for being too brief than to risk explaining further and being branded a perverted queen on her very first day with the title.
***
This was an account based on how Amara became the queen. The previous narrative is based on the events of the tenth month of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
Comments
Aured
Wonderful chapter! I love that last line in her speech - human tourists will need to watch out!
Ziemir
No spoilers for now, but there's a bit more planned for those two just a few chapters from here
guido pier
Tftc, i hope natthan helps her forgive her mother. If Amara doesnt want to see her again then thats fine but closure is needed
