Story time: Weight of a crown

Published May 2, 2026
Illustration by Aamnah Arshad
Illustration by Aamnah Arshad

Sometimes it’s not the change we choose that breaks us, but the one forced upon us, the one that quietly erases a part of who we are.

It was morning. Alecia sat at the foot of her bed. Today was her 13th birthday, a day of celebration for most children. But she was not like most children. Royal blood ran through her veins. And today meant something else entirely.

She stepped outside her room and found the castle busy with its usual routine. She made her way to the kitchens to see her only friend.

“Alecia!” Rowan called out, cheeks dusted with flour and flushed with excitement. “Happy birthday! Here, I’ve got something for you,” she said, handing over a small paper parcel.

Alecia opened it to find a chocolate éclair. “Thank you,” she said, forcing a small smile.

Rowan noticed it immediately. “Are you unhappy with the present?” she asked gently.

“No!” Alecia said quickly, her hands moving as she spoke. “I love it. It’s lovely. It’s just… today I’m 13.”

Rowan paused. “So?” she said, then quickly realised. “Oh… I forgot. You’re to be crowned today.”

A sigh escaped Alecia’s lips, “Yes.”

“Is this what you want?”

Alecia blinked. No one had ever asked her that before. Not like this. Not directly. She had expected advice, maybe even a reminder to be grateful, but not a question about her own wishes.

Illstan was a kingdom hidden deep within the mountains, surrounded by jagged rocks. It was known for its beauty and its people — intelligent, skilled and gifted. Every child, upon turning 13, was trained in a field of their choice, something they had already spent years discovering. Except for the Siweks.

The Siwek dynasty had ruled for generations. Their children, at 13, were assigned roles in the royal court, whether they wanted them or not. Alecia was different. She was only the second child in a century to be crowned queen at 13. With no one else to take the role, it had to be her.

The thought of ruling thousands made her uneasy.

“I… don’t think so,” she admitted softly. “But it has to be done.”

Rowan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Would you like to sit here until the ceremony?” she asked quietly.

Alecia exhaled, “I would love that.”

Maybe this was her last moment of childhood, sitting here beside her friend, because after today, Rowan would not just be her friend. She would be her subject.

The ceremony came too quickly. Alecia was dressed in a flowing navy gown, a white fur-trimmed cloak placed over her shoulders. Her hair was braided simply, yet she looked more like a queen than a child.

She walked towards the throne room, her thoughts numb. Her father stood waiting, the crown gleaming in his hands.

It was placed on her head, heavy, tight. He nodded for her to speak.

“I vow to protect my kingdom. I vow to be the best queen I can, and henceforth…” she hesitated before repeating the kingdom’s motto, “Be what one should, what one must and what one will. I promise to be a queen you will find worthy.”

The crowd erupted into cheers.

Alecia sat on the throne, but something felt wrong. A quiet grief settled inside her. Across the room, she saw Rowan, smiling, but not truly. A smile given out of duty, not friendship.

And in that moment, Alecia understood. Her childhood hadn’t slipped away slowly. It had ended all at once.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 2nd, 2026

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