Chapter 2: They/Them??
[Zory]
I didn't even get their name.
"Their" feels like the perfect pronoun, since I can't wrap my head around their gender. A big part of me thinks she's a girl, but there's also this doubt — maybe it's the way she (or he?) dressed, spoke, and tied that ponytail.
I have every reason to believe he is male but he's just so pretty and beautiful.
I do have a thing for androgynous people.
Well… they're interesting. I hope to meet them again.
---
"I'm home, Abuela!"
"What took you so long, mija? It was just to clean up and lock up. Now we're going to be late."
I've never seen my Abuela so time-conscious — or this overdressed — in all my fifteen years of life. What am I missing?
"Your dress already arrived. It's in a box on your bed. We have thirty minutes before the quinceañera starts, and I doubt we'll make it before then."
"Whose quinceañera, Mama?"
I asked, genuinely curious, as I opened the box and laid eyes on a beauty like never before — in the form of a dress.
"Get dressed quickly, hija. The driver is outside, and I have something important to tell you."
I had noticed the sleek car and neatly dressed chauffeur earlier. Now my curiosity has officially hit the roof.
---
I got dressed in record time and rushed to the front room where Abuela waited. Before I could say a word, she grabbed my hand and led me outside to the fancy car. We slid into the backseat, and the chauffeur shifted the gears.
"Mija," she began softly, "you know I'm getting old. And I'm the only one you think you have."
Not this speech again. I swear I've heard it a hundred times — the first on my 12th birthday. Something about high school and new beginnings. Now what?
"Mama, you keep saying that… and still here you are. Hale and hearty."
"Thank the spirits," she nodded, "but I doubt I'll last much longer. Listen to me, hija — we're going to meet the rest of your family. They'll give you a proper education, just like this car and that dress. Senior high is going to shape your future, and I won't let you waste it in that dumpster of a school. Trust me, hija, you'll love it."
"But… I don't want to be separated from you," I said, tears already slipping down.
That's what it sounded like — like she was giving me away to strangers. That's what my ears heard.
I think.
But there was a small, flickering curiosity. A new family. A rich one, even. I mean... maybe.
I was still lost in thought when she gently took my arm.
"This is the life you deserve," she said. "And this is the life you will live."
Those words filled me with a strange warmth. I'd always wanted to dress differently, live differently — and judging by how I looked now, maybe I would love this new life.
We hugged.
And right then, the car stopped.
---
"Welcome to your new home, hija."
No way. No actual way.
It was the Eltador Palace.
I managed to keep my excitement contained in my mental thought-box. I mean... I had to start acting fancy, right?
We found a side entrance and slipped through.
And then — behold: The Grand Hall of the Royal Palace.
Gold chandeliers. Polished marble floors. The gentle sound of violins filling the air. Lavish floral arrangements in royal blue and deep red lined the room. Nobles and high-ranking guests were everywhere, dressed in formal attire and gathered for the coming-of-age of the twin heirs: Prince Daniel and Princess Daniella.
I watched as someone — who I assumed was Princess Daniella — stepped slowly down the grand staircase. She turned fifteen today.
Her twin brother, Daniel, would be here too. But quinceañeras were for girls, so clearly, she was the center of attention.
I struggled to move closer. I'd never seen them before — not even on Elstagram. I don't do social media, but I do know all about them. Just… not how they look.
When I finally got to the front line, I took a breath and peered ahead.
She was so beautiful. Every step she took radiated "princess aura."
Long, golden wavy hair. A perfectly pointed nose. White teeth that somehow managed to shine — I didn't even know teeth could be that white.
Why did this feel like an epiphany?
Why did she seem… familiar?
---
Just then, the double doors creaked open. Everyone turned.
Someone that looked like the Ethereal god who just walked down the stairs gracefully walked in.
Prince Daniel entered.
Golden hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, dressed in deep navy with embroidered gold trimming. He walked with calm, effortless grace. Shoulders squared, chin high — the perfect image of a young royal groomed for the throne. Yet, his eyes were sharp. Watching. Calculating. As if waiting for some performance to begin.
I looked closely, as if hypnotized.
Wait...
I know those eyes.
I know those eyes.
He looked side to side while continuing his princely walk. And then ours eyes met.
I sunk deep into his eyes reading like it was some novel— just then — it dawned on me.
He was the one I'd met earlier.
He was them.
They were him.
Wow.
This just got pretty interesting.