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The crown felt heavy, yet so rightfully placed as Mira lowered it carefully onto her head.
“Gwi-Ma may sit on your throne. He may walk through the halls of your home like he built them himself. He may squander your family’s riches and run the kingdom into ruins,” Mira lifted Rumi’s head by her chin, making her hold it high like the princess she was, that she was born to be. “But he will never take this crown from your head. He will not take the love and support that your people so openly give to you. He will not tarnish your name…not as long as I am here to defend it, to defend you. Not when I am here to teach you how to fight for your kingdom and to bring him to his knees in front of the true heir to that throne.”