Broken Throne

I was not raised to accept a master’s cage

I am married to a prince who will one day be a king. Usually this is where the fairy tale ends. Stories don’t go much further than this moment, and I fear there’s a good reason for it

But there is a difference between a single candle in darkness, and a sunrise

I am not someone I recognize. Is this what growing up means?

She knew his nose, his lips, his jaw, his eyes most of all. They stirred something in her, a connection she did not know she could make with another person. She saw herself in them, her own pain, her own joy. We are the same, she thought. Searching for something to keep us anchored, both alone in a crowded room

. I leave behind unfinished puzzles, pieces never put back together

But he seemed lonely too. Should we not be lonely together?

There is no greater pain or punishment than memory

There is nothing so terrible as a story untold

Who can say where the paths lead, or how the scales may balance in another decade? I suppose I can, but that is my curse. To watch, to see, until the ending of all things. We destroy. We rebuild. We destroy again. It is the constant of our kind. We are all a god’s chosen, and we are all a god’s cursed.

—JON