The night has fallen and the crescent moon was casting its faint light on the dining table, begging to be seen by others, constantly reminding them that this is not its true form. There was a full circle to it, that can only be seen when the viewer's eyes catches the light it emits. I'm still here, it seemed to say, even when you can't see me.

Queen Elizabeth entered the dining pavilion. Every worker's attention was drawn towards her. Classandra and Alexander were already present and now welcoming their mother.

Clare couldn't help but draw a comparison between her family and the nature which she has always loved.

Elizabeth was the sun, radiating her light on her own, demanding views and always present, though no one could truly see her. Alex was the moon, reflecting the royal legacies of their parents, always trying to please others, though, one should remember, the moon has a dark part filled with secrets. And Clare was the stars, she thought. Herself scattered into a million pieces, easily overlooked. The stars, unlike the sun and the moon, didn't have an omnipresence. It designs the night sky with beautiful patterns and yet, when hidden with clouds, no one seems to bother. No one misses it. The stars are gone, they think, but the truth is far beyond it, for the stars in reality, are so bright to be put off by some rain clouds.

Clare wondered if all these facts would change after the coronation.

The royal family took their seat around the table and the food was served. No one seemed to talk.

"Privacy," the queen said. Immediately, all the workers took a bow and left the room.

The air in the room seemed to stand still. Pin drop silence.

"What's this I hear about you trying to behead your brother?" The queen's voice echoed.

"I didn't try to behead him, mother. It was a mistake. He came in front of my sword unannounced," Clare said in a low voice, not breaking her intense eye contact with the plate.

"And why did you go in front of her sword?" The queen asked Alex.

"I was just trying to grab her attention, mom," Alex said.

"Why were you trying to grab her attention?" Their mother asked, sounding more confused by the minute.

"Mom, I was just messing around with her. It's no big deal. I'm completely fine. Let's just drop it," Alex hurried his words out.

"Drop it!? You want to just drop it!? Alexander, you are the crown prince of Utopia. Your coronation is less than a week away. And the rumors of your sister trying to behead you isn't something to be looked over!" The queen seemed to grow more upset. It is not easy to run a government. Especially when there are enemies surrounding you from all the corners, always on a lookout for chances to make you crumble from within.

"Mom, look. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I threw myself onto her sword. Clare did nothing wrong," he defended his sister.

"Please. Both of you. Don't make any commotion, at least till the coronation is successfully complete. I want the day to be perfect. Don't disappoint me," the queen said.

"Yes, mother," Alex said and Clare nodded, still not peeling her eyes away from the plate.

"Alright. Start eating," the queen said. Everyone started eating in silence. No one had anything to talk about.

The night was cold. Clare went to the comfort of her room. She lay on the bed while her eyes examined the ceiling, with no thought in particular in her mind. The patterns on the ceiling were beautiful, intriguing, mysterious even. Much like her. She painted out the patterns herself just like she said she would to her dad.

'Of course my sweet angel,' his memory said. 'You can do anything you want if you put your mind to it.'

'Art is a way to the soul, my dear,' he had said. 'It shows who you truly are.'

The words kept ringing in her ears, over and over. Such a sweet man he was. He always believed and supported her. No matter what she said and did, no matter how much she broke his heart, he was always beside her. He understood her like no one else did. Alex wasn't that close to their dad though. He loved his father nevertheless, but not the same. It's not his fault though. Their dad passed away while he was young. He wasn't there for him when he needed him the most.

"Dad?" Clare called out. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Classandra isn't someone who apologizes to people but her dad was a complete exception.

'I won't fall asleep if I keep thinking about him,' she realized.

She forced her eyes shut, commanding herself to go to sleep. But it had never worked before, why would it work now? She started counting numbers. Now that has always helped her sleep.

One...

The conversation with her mother came to her mind.

Two...

Rumors always spread about her.

Three. Four...

Why would people think she wanted to behead her brother?

She closed her ears shut with her hands and counted quickly.

Five. Six. Seven...

Eight...

She started to drift.

Nine...

She cannot feel her body anymore.

Ten.

Her eyes completely shut and she drifted off to sleep.