For as long as I can remember, this is how it has always been. My father, the king. My mother, the queen. My sisters. Me. And my Mark. The Mark is not one of shame. It is in fact one of the highest esteem. It means that I am from a royal blood line, and will grow to rule my people. It is a mark of power and purity. But the people don't seem to think so. Things are not as they seem. They do not crave a new fated leader. They do not want to be ruled under my father’s progeny. They want peace. They want amends. They do not want to carry on their ancestor’s past. My Mark stands as an enemy in the face of their desires. An enemy to ending a bloody war. An enemy to me making a choice about who I want to be. I am not sure of many things. I do not know all the secrets. The lies. The betrayals. The dangers. The future or the past. I am not sure I want to know. But I am also not sure I have a choice.