Aurora looked out at the bustling crowd, praying that she would not fall because of the tall heels her advisors had made her wear. The large heavy clothes and thick make-up made her feel like a clown, but the Council had insisted she needed to look older than her actual age. They were right; Aurora no longer looked ten-years-old. She looked much closer to eighteen, which was their goal. It had been a tall order, but somehow they had managed it. Beside her stood a boy, looking equally ridiculous as she. Instead of a long, flowing gown as she had, he was wearing a wide trouser to conceal his own elevated shoes and a purple robe covering his shoulders to make them look broader. Devrim, that was his name. He was only two years older than Aurora, and now he, too, had the weight of the Empire on his shoulders. Devrim waved awkwardly to the crowd below. They were high up in the palace on a balcony overlooking the capital city, Valiant. Many wars had been fought over the years, but today
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