Inside the castle walls, she was called by her true name—
Famoura Felóenz.
But beyond the golden gates of Château de Chambord, the world knew her by another title—
Princess Marie II.
A name she never asked for.
A name she never loved.
A name that felt like a chain placed around her throat before she even learned how to speak.
And yet… she wore it.
Because in the Felóenz kingdom, a royal child did not choose her identity.
The kingdom chose it for her.
---
The Feast of the Kingdom
On the day of The Ceremony of Powers, King Francis ordered the entire castle grounds to be transformed into a paradise.
For the first time in decades, the enormous gates of the château were opened to the common people.
It was a rare sight.
Peasants walked beneath royal arches.
Merchants stood where only nobles were allowed to stand.
Children ran freely in the courtyard where soldiers usually marched.
Long wooden tables filled the open grounds, overflowing with bread, roasted meats, fruits, wine, and sweet pastries.
The air was filled with laughter, music, and celebration.
And at the highest balcony, King Francis raised his hand.
With one single clap—
Royal servants poured into the courtyard like a flood, carrying trays and baskets, serving food to everyone who had come.
The kingdom praised their king.
The nobles smiled proudly.
The citizens cheered.
But while the world celebrated…
Famoura felt nothing.
Because celebration meant nothing when your own name was stolen.
Unlike the other royals, who sat at the grand table surrounded by noble blood, Famoura quietly slipped away.
She walked past silk dresses.
Past shining crowns.
Past noble laughter.
And sat among the common citizens.
She took a plate and began to eat like she belonged there.
Not like a princess.
Like a person.
Like someone who wished to be free.
---
The Frog and the Girl
As Famoura ate quietly, a sudden scream pierced the air.
"A frog!"
A young girl jumped up from the nearby table, her face pale with fear.
People laughed.
Some mocked her.
But she looked genuinely terrified.
A small frog had leapt from the grass and landed beside her chair.
Famoura stood up calmly.
She walked toward the girl, her movements quiet and graceful.
The frog croaked softly.
The girl backed away.
Famoura lifted her fingers slightly.
Her eyes narrowed.
A faint darkness flickered in her gaze.
And with a subtle motion—
She used her Phobokinesis.
In an instant…
the frog vanished.
As if it had never existed.
The grass remained still.
The ground remained empty.
The crowd fell silent.
The girl stared, her lips trembling.
Then her eyes widened with amazement.
"Thank you!" she said quickly, almost breathless. "My name is Elizabeth Félix."
Famoura smiled faintly and reached out her hand.
"I'm Marie II," she said.
Her smile softened.
"But… would you like to be my friend?"
Elizabeth froze.
"A… princess wants to be my friend?"
The question sounded ridiculous.
Impossible.
But Famoura's expression was sincere.
Elizabeth's shock slowly turned into joy.
"Yes!" she said quickly. "Of course!"
Famoura nodded.
Then, as if fate was not finished weaving its thread…
a boy approached them.
He looked about a year younger than Elizabeth.
His posture was polite, but his eyes were bold.
"Hello, Princess Marie II," he said respectfully. "My name is Anthony Félix. I'm Elizabeth's brother. It's an honor to meet you."
Famoura shook his hand as well.
Then she smiled mischievously.
"Well then," she said, "will you also become my friend?"
Anthony blinked.
Then smiled.
"Of course, Princess."
Famoura reached into her bag.
She pulled out a folded letter, sealed neatly.
She handed it to Elizabeth.
"We can study together every day," she said softly. "The address is written inside."
Anthony's eyes sharpened.
Then he spoke again.
"I have a request, Princess Marie II."
Famoura turned her head slightly.
"Yes?"
Anthony scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Well… if you and my sister both go there, you'll be two girls, and I'll be the only boy."
Elizabeth burst into laughter.
Anthony glared.
"Stop laughing!"
Famoura raised an eyebrow.
"If you don't want to come," she said calmly, "that's fine. I don't mind."
She turned and began walking away.
Anthony panicked.
"No, no!" he quickly said. "That's not what I meant!"
Famoura paused.
Anthony continued nervously.
"I just wanted to ask… can I bring two of my friends? They're very smart and could help us study. They're one year older than me—about the same age as you and my sister."
Famoura stood still for a moment.
Then she slowly nodded.
"Alright," she said. "All of you may come."
Her eyes darkened slightly.
"But remember…"
Her voice lowered.
"This must remain a secret between the five of us."
Anthony swallowed.
Elizabeth nodded.
They both understood.
Because in their kingdom…
girls were forbidden to study after the age of ten.
And what Famoura was planning…
was not just rebellion.
It was treason.
Famoura walked away without another word.
But the moment she disappeared into the crowd…
Anthony grabbed the letter from Elizabeth's hands.
"Give it to me!" he said.
Elizabeth pulled it back.
"I'm older than you! And the princess gave it to me!"
Anthony ignored her and unfolded it.
His eyes scanned the words.
Then he read aloud.
"Sylvester Woodland Library…"
His eyes widened.
"That's really far from the castle… and it's just an old library."
Elizabeth frowned thoughtfully.
"Famoura loves studying," she whispered.
Then she hesitated.
"But… according to the kingdom's rules, women aren't allowed to study after ten."
Anthony's expression turned serious.
Then he nodded slowly.
"Then she must be planning a secret study group."
And in that moment…
Anthony Félix realized something.
The princess was not foolish.
The princess was dangerous.
Not because of her magic.
But because of her mind.
---
The Next Day
The next morning, the forest was quiet.
The road leading away from the castle grew colder and darker as trees thickened, their branches twisting like claws.
After hours of walking, Elizabeth and Anthony finally reached the place written in the letter.
A tall, ancient building stood in the middle of the woods.
Its walls were stained with moss.
Its windows were cracked.
Its door looked as though it hadn't been opened in years.
Above it, carved into old stone, were faded words:
Sylvester Woodland Library
Elizabeth stepped forward.
Anthony's face twisted with disgust.
"Eww… this place is ancient," he muttered. "Look at all this dust. Maybe Princess Marie II invited us here just to clean it."
Elizabeth slapped his arm.
"Anthony!"
But suddenly—
The sound of the door opening echoed through the building.
Creeeeeeak.
Anthony froze.
His heart jumped.
His eyes widened.
Then he shouted immediately.
"Sorry, Princess! I didn't mean it like that!"
Elizabeth stared at him.
"You're pathetic," she whispered.
Anthony ignored her.
Because at that moment…
a shadow moved behind him.
A cold metal edge pressed against his neck.
Anthony's breath stopped.
A voice whispered into his ear—low, sharp, and mocking.
"Why should I forgive you?"
Anthony's body stiffened.
He slowly turned his eyes.
Then he sighed in relief.
"Oh… it's just you."
The boy holding the knife laughed.
His smile was wild.
His blond hair gleamed even in the darkness.
"I'm Victor Laurent," he said proudly.
Anthony rolled his eyes.
"Idiot."
Victor grinned wider.
"Coward."
The tension could have turned into a fight…
But then—
The door opened again.
Footsteps echoed.
And the air shifted.
Famoura walked inside.
Her cloak was dark.
Her gaze was calm.
Her presence alone made the dusty library feel strangely alive.
She looked at the scene with narrowed eyes.
"What is happening here?" she asked.
Anthony quickly stepped aside and pointed.
"Princess Marie II, these are the friends I told you about," he said quickly. "They're brothers. The older one is Edward Laurent, and the blond one who almost stabbed me is Victor Laurent."
Both boys straightened.
Edward bowed respectfully, his expression composed and mature.
Victor also bowed—though lazily, like he was only pretending.
"Our apologies for the disturbance, Princess," Edward said.
Famoura frowned.
Then her voice turned sharp.
"First of all," she said firmly, "stop bowing to me."
Everyone froze.
Famoura continued.
"I don't like it. If you want to bow…"
Her eyes lifted slightly.
"Bow only before God."
Victor leaned toward Anthony and whispered.
"I've never seen a royal child like her."
Anthony whispered back.
"Because she's insane."
Victor grinned.
"No… she's different."
Edward cleared his throat politely.
"How can we help you, Princess?"
Famoura crossed her arms.
Then she spoke calmly.
"First of all…"
Her voice grew quieter.
"My name is Famoura."
The room fell silent.
Elizabeth blinked.
Anthony's mouth opened slightly.
Edward's eyes narrowed with curiosity.
Victor's smile faded.
"Famoura…?" Elizabeth repeated.
"Yes," Famoura replied simply. "And secondly…"
Her gaze hardened.
"Don't call me princess."
She stepped forward, her eyes burning with stubborn pride.
"I want to live as your friend."
Elizabeth's lips curved into a smile.
"Thank you… Princess—sorry—Famoura."
Famoura laughed softly.
A rare sound.
Warm, but strange.
"In friendship," she said gently, "there is no sorry… and no thank you."
Edward stared at her, intrigued.
Then he asked carefully—
"But why does everyone call you Marie II?"
Famoura shrugged, her expression darkening.
"To be honest…" she murmured.
"Even I have never discovered the reason."
Victor looked away, thoughtful.
Then he spoke slowly.
"The name Famoura sounds familiar."
Famoura tilted her head.
Victor continued.
"It feels like it belongs to something important… like ancient history… or even a war."
The air grew heavier.
Famoura's smile faded.
For a second…
her purple crown's memory seemed to glow inside her mind.
But then she shook it off.
"Maybe," she said quietly.
Then she turned toward the tall shelves of dusty books.
"But that's not why we're here."
She walked deeper into the library.
Her footsteps echoed.
She turned around and faced them all.
"I came here to create a secret study group," she said.
Her voice was calm.
But her eyes were filled with fire.
"I believe in women's rights."
Elizabeth inhaled sharply.
Anthony stared.
Edward looked impressed.
Victor's eyes sparkled with interest.
Famoura continued.
"And I want to learn the real history of the world."
For a moment…
there was only silence.
Then, all four of them spoke at the same time—
"We'll help you, Famoura Felóenz."
Famoura stared at them.
And for the first time…
she felt something she had never truly felt inside the castle.
Trust.
A bond not made by blood.
But by choice.
And in that quiet, dusty library deep within the forest…
A secret alliance had begun.
An alliance that would soon awaken truths buried for centuries.
And perhaps…
something darker than knowledge itself.
Because books do not only carry history.
Sometimes…
they carry curses.