The dawn after the Festival of Unity was unlike any other. A soft golden mist blanketed Thaloria, carrying the scent of ripe fruit and fresh morning dew. The vines of the Heart of Thaloria stretched high, their golden berries glistening with the promise of prosperity. The land hummed with quiet contentment, as though it, too, had been nourished by the unity of its people.
Maribelle stood at the highest balcony of the palace, her hands resting on the cool stone railing. Below, the streets were alive with quiet chatter as merchants set up their stalls, selling woven baskets of strawberries and golden fruits harvested from the sacred vines. Children ran between them, giggling, their hands sticky with sweet jam from the night before. For the first time, the city felt whole.
Yet, despite the warmth of the morning, Maribelle’s heart was heavy.
She had done what many thought impossible—she had united the people, healed the land, and fulfilled her purpose as the Strawberry Queen. But deep in her chest, she felt something stir, something unfinished.
A soft knock on the wooden doors broke her thoughts.
“Enter,” she called, turning to see Elira step inside. The old woman carried a small woven basket filled with golden berries, their glow dim in the morning light.
“You’re troubled,” Elira observed, setting the basket down on a nearby table.
Maribelle sighed. “The land is thriving, the people are happy, and yet…” She hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “Something is missing.”
Elira studied her with wise, knowing eyes. “You have given your people a future, but have you given yourself one?”
Maribelle faltered. A future for herself?
She had never thought of it before. From the moment she had set foot in Thaloria, her purpose had been clear—to bring the land back to life, to heal the wounds left behind by the kingdom’s past. But now that it was done, now that the land was thriving…
What was left for her?
She had never considered what came after.
Elira stepped forward and took Maribelle’s hand in hers, pressing a single golden berry into her palm. “The land gave you life, my dear. But life is not just duty—it is living. It is joy, love, adventure.”
Maribelle looked down at the glowing fruit in her hand. She had spent so long fighting for the kingdom that she had never once thought about what it meant to be herself.
“What do you desire, Maribelle?” Elira’s voice was soft but firm. “Not as a queen, not as a ruler. But as you?”
The question lingered in the air.
Maribelle had spent so long worrying about her people, about healing the kingdom, that she had never given herself the same care.
For the first time, she realized that Thaloria was not just her responsibility—it was her home.
She wanted to walk its fields without fear, to taste its fruits not just as a ruler but as a girl who had once dreamed of adventure. She wanted to explore, to see the far reaches of the land she had saved, to breathe in the salty air of the distant shores she had only heard of in stories.
A slow smile spread across her face as she looked back up at Elira.
“I want to see Thaloria with my own eyes,” she said. “Not just as a queen, but as someone who loves it.”
Elira smiled. “Then go, my dear. Go and live.”
The next morning, Maribelle stood at the gates of the palace, dressed not in the elaborate gowns of a queen but in a simple traveling cloak. A satchel hung over her shoulder, filled with provisions for the journey ahead—maps, dried fruits, and a small, precious vial of the Heart of Thaloria’s golden nectar.
Her people had gathered to see her off, whispering among themselves. At first, they had been confused by her decision, but when Maribelle had explained, they understood. Their queen was not leaving them—she was simply choosing to be one of them.
As she turned to leave, her gaze met Elira’s one last time. The old woman gave her a knowing nod.
“Find your own path, my dear,” she said softly.
And with that, Maribelle stepped beyond the gates of Thaloria, her heart lighter than it had ever been before.
The land she had saved was vast, filled with secrets yet to be uncovered.
And for the first time in her life, Maribelle wasn’t just a queen.
She was a traveler, a dreamer, a girl with strawberries in her hands and the world at her feet.
And her story was only just beginning.
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