The Decoy Princess Was Never Meant to Live
Chapter 1: Borrowed Time
Everyone knows I’m the fake princess—the decoy, the shield. My whole life’s just been borrowed time, spent keeping the real heir safe.
From the moment I could walk, I lived in the shadow of someone else’s story. I was trained to blend in, to anticipate the Queen Mother’s cold glances, and to slip quietly through hallways thick with secrets that never belonged to me. But nothing in those years prepared me for the day it all unraveled.
The day the Crown Prince became king, I crept through the old corridors to deliver a gift, hoping for a moment of connection. Instead, I heard the Queen Mother’s voice ring out, clear as a bell:
"Natalie’s played this role long enough. It’s time for her to disappear, and for your real sister to come home!"
My heart slammed in my chest as I shrank behind the heavy oak door, gripping the key fob I’d stitched with his initials—just like the ones you see in gas stations, but homemade, a little crooked, all heart. Every muscle screamed to run, but I couldn’t move. The world tilted, her words slicing through the last thread of safety I’d clung to.
Clutching the gift, I listened as my elegant, distant brother answered, his voice sharp and cold:
"Alright. I’ll take care of it."
There was no hesitation in his tone—just that executive chill that always made him seem untouchable. My hands trembled so badly the present nearly slipped to the floor. I stood there, paralyzed, my heart thudding so loud I could barely hear.
That night, fire tore through the governor’s mansion, up in the old historic district north of downtown Savannah. While everyone raced to save what they could, I joined the chaos, slipping out alongside the panicked servants—never realizing the young king staggered into the flames after me.
The heat licked at my back as I stumbled through the hedges, my lungs raw from smoke, sirens wailing somewhere behind me. The estate was an inferno: red flashing lights, the bitter tang of burning wood, flames dancing in shattered windows. I never looked back. I never saw him call my name, searching the smoke. By then, I’d already vanished into the night.
