Author's note: Listen to  as you read this chapter.

I run through the hallways, anxious to meet Legolas for breakfast. My dress billows as it catches the wind, slowing me down. My satin slippers, which sadly replaced my leather boots, slap against the floor and echo through the halls. Pat, pat, pat.

"Curse this castle and its many corridors." I whisper in annoyance. "Where on Middle Earth is the dining room?"

My stomach roars, begging me to fill it with food. I make a few turns and a couple of trips down the stairs then retrace my steps to my room. This time, I make a left turn and a right turn and find myself in the throne room, the last place where I want to be.

Instead of its blue beauty, black flags hang down from the high ceiling. Soldiers and guards line up on either side of the room, heads bowed. My stomach grumbles again, but not out of hunger.

I march up to the nearest guard, nearly out of breath. "Where is the king? Aren't you supposed to be making your rounds?"

The soldier looks up at me, teary eyed. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, as if to delay his words. "My lady, the King is dead."

My heart stops, but only for a split second. My blood, which once ran freely through my veins, freezes. No. No, no, no, no, NO! He cannot be dead. He was just alive last night!

"H-how?" I ask, listening to the blood rush to my ears. "He-he was just alive hours ago. How can he be dead?"

"He died in his sleep just last night. I suppose his emotions finally won in the end."

My godfather? No. He was so happy to see me.  I hold my head in my hands, breathing erratically.

"My Queen?" The soldier whispers, his voice quivering with uncertainty. "What will we do?"

I look at the soldier, dumbfounded. "What did you just call me?"

"My Queen?"

"I am not  your queen."

"Are you not heir to the throne?"

"I said, I am not your queen." At least not yet.

"What do we do now? We have no ruler to lead us."

"Inform the people of the news. Arrange a proper burial for the former king of Delmaris."

As the early morning sun came and was replaced by heavy rain, a proper burial was held for my godfather. Villagers, sailors, court officials, and even Legolas came to honor the King. All of Delmaris gather around his grave, where past members of royalty were buried. Many elves gave long, emotional eulogies while some simply cried. Mine, on the other hand, was a mixture of both crying and talking.

 What have I done to have things and people stolen from me so quickly?

I do my best to comfort the villagers, who took the King's death deeply. While they sobbed about their deceased king, I take the chance to know and understand the elves I will soon rule. 

"My lady?" The steward, whose name I later found out was Velos, appears by my side. "When shall we host your coronation?"

"We can host it later." I answer. "Right now, the people need to mourn for their king. Don't coronations take a while to prepare?"

"My lady, we've been preparing and planning since the death of your mother and the regression of the king. We can host it the day after tomorrow at the earliest."

I gulp. "Oh, um. Of course. That would be alright."

"My lady, if you're not ready, we can host it much later-"

"No! It's quite alright. Besides, the people need a new ruler. They've been needing one since.... since my godfather."

"Now, your godfather wasn't a terrible ruler. He was a good ruler, yes. But a ruler of his own emotions, no."

Before I could argue, Velos turns and leaves, comforting another elf. As he should. My godfather was a good king, whether his heart was in it or not. And by his death I now rule in his stead.

Later that night, sleep fail to overcome my senses. Images of my lifeless godfather and parents flash before my sleepless eyes.

"No." I whisper, begging to make them disappear. "No!"

Fear crawls up my spine like frost. My blood runs slowly, freezing as it continues its journey through me. I pull the blankets to my neck, but its warmth does nothing to comfort me.

I throw the blankets off my bed and slip on my pathetic, silk slippers. Immediately, I long for my leather boots, but they were nowhere to be found in this damned castle. 

Air. I need air.

I tiptoe to the door, opened it as wide as I could, and closed it softly behind me. I step into the hall and look both ways, expecting a guard to make their rounds. None comes. Quickly and quietly, I scurry through the corridors, letting my dress catch the breeze. I walk at a brisk pace, unsure of where I was going or where I wanted to go. The last place I want to be is alone with my own thoughts.

I stop at the throne room, spotting a tall figure at a glass window. I walk closer, knife at the ready in instinct, and realize it is only Legolas, deep in thought.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, elf prince?" I ask, startling him with satisfaction.

"Isn't it past yours?" He replies, hastily recovering. The corner of his lip turns upward. "Your coronation is the day after tomorrow."

I drop my gaze to the floor. "I know. But-but my godfather. He's... dead."

He turns around, letting the moonlight illuminate his features. "Perhaps I can ease your pain." He gestures to the spot beside him.

"I never really knew my godfather like I should." I stand beside him. "I never really got to bond with him like I did with my parents. I never got to love him like my parents. He's gone, and there's nothing I can do about it. All those words I said about him, all those thoughts about him, and all the hate I felt for him; I cannot take them back. Legolas, there are many things I don't deserve. But this pain I feel? I am more than deserving of it."

After a few tense, silent moments, Legolas turns to me, expressionless.

"You deserve something else too."

I glance at him with teary eyes. "What is it?" More pain? Guilt? Regret? Your pity?

"Your coronation is soon and you need to learn how to waltz for your first dance."

I glare at the elf prince with anger and disbelief. Did he not hear what I just said? How could he not care after all this time?

My nostrils flare and my hands curl into fists. The elf prince took many things lightly. I should not be one of them.

"Trust me." He says pleadingly, holding an outstretched hand. I stare at his hand, unsure of whether I should take it or not. After a few hesitant moments, I take his hand.

He leads me to the middle of the throne room, hand in hand, and faces me. He gently puts a hand at my waist, sending electrifying sparks which I find... thrilling.

I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. "Why are you doing this to me after all I've done?"

"Because you deserve to be happy." He whispers quietly, letting his breath caress my skin. "Now, follow my lead. We'll start slowly then quicken our pace as we go."

I nod slowly, but not at his directions.

You deserve to be happy. We spin in a wide circle, waltzing slowly as he directs. We follow the melody of a ghost song, stepping in time with its soundless beat. I deserve to be happy.

I step on Legolas's feet a few times, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he smiles each time I step on his foot. He steps on mine a few times as well, whether on accident or on purpose, but I don't mind. He twirls me around, like I have done many times when fighting orcs.

I let out a laugh, a real one.

"Not so bad, future queen." Legolas compliments. "You've some skill with waltzing."

"As do you." I answer, returning his compliment.

As we waltz around the throne room a tenth time, Legolas and I lock eyes with each other. This time, we do not break each other's gaze. I stare into his eyes and see myself smiling. It was not the usual smile I fake. The smile I saw in his eyes was the kind that reached my eyes. It was the kind of smile my parents smiled when they are with each other. He pulls me closer as if I were about to abandon our serene waltz. I lean closer to him until our lips almost brush against each other.

"I've never seen you smile like this before, Miranna." He breathes.

I raise a brow. "Is that a bad thing?"

"It is a start." The start of what? I push the thought away, focusing on the rhythm. I find my arms wrapped around his neck as his arms found its way to my waist, pulling me even closer to him.

Miranna you fool, what on Middle Earth are you doing? I  ignore my thoughts. I never knew I'd become queen, ruling over my own kingdom. I never knew I'd learn to dance. But after the death of my parents and my godfather, I never knew I'd feel such tenderness again.