This story is about the made-up kingdom of Krajiny and a jealous brother.
Amira lay in her king-sized bed. It had been a long day. Her father had just told her and her two brothers something they hadn’t known before. He had said, “I am not the blood King of Krajiny. Women are always chosen first for the crown and I married your mother and became King. That means that you, Amenra, are not first in line for the throne. Amira is.”
Amenra had stalked out of the room, cursing. Anderson, Amira’s younger twin brother, hadn’t seemed bothered. Maybe it was because he never thought he was first in line and Amenra had. Either way, Amira couldn’t sleep.
Then, her door creaked open. A figure walked in. “Who’s there?” she asked, her voice shaking. She sat up and pulled her blankets close. The person walked closer to her. He was holding a lantern. “Amenra?” she asked. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the ni--” She started to say. Then he grabbed Amira’s diamond encrusted knife from her bedside table and stabbed it through her heart.