The Kingdom of Mar

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom by the sea. There was a princess in the kingdom by the name of Annabel Lee. The young royal, 17 years of age, was training to become the next ruler of Mar. Her father, James, had given up the crown and divorced his wife in order to start a life with his new fiance, Frank. The kingdom of Mar was pretentious and straightlaced- so for his actions, the king was forced to resign in shame. Annabel did not wish to be queen. All she dreamt of was living in a cottage by the sea with her dear Virginia. However, her life and position was at stake, because the king’s brother, Hugh, had cajoled the council into passing a law banning homosexuality and making the punishment burning at the stake. Annabel was stuck in between her duty to her beloved country and her longing to be united with her true love. James was a steadfast source of hope and encouragement. However, his beliefs were subjective at best. I can’t just abandon my people, she cried silently.

As her political future crumbled around her like a stack of cards, so did her relationships. Virginia was banished from the castle by her puritanical mother, and James finally decided to depart. Annabel Lee felt all alone. One night, in the darkness and stillness of her private chambers, she screamed and cried to her Maker. She begged and pleaded for Him to take this terrible burden from her. However, the Deity did not reply. She finally resigned to speaking her truth to the council- and accepting her fate. “This is outrageous! The future queen- a queer! Just like her corrupt father.” cried the council members. Unlike King James, Annabel Lee was a woman- so she was unprotected against their wrath and accusations. They unanimously decided to punish her to the full extent of the law.

Annabell Lee did not cry as they led her to her execution tree. However, Virginia wailed. She screamed and fought against the steel arms encompassing her small frame. The fire was lit- and Annabel Lee still did not shed a tear. I will be brave, she promised her beloved kingdom, and set this country free-even in death. The citizens crowded around matched Virginia’s cries- for James and Annabel were there sanctified rulers and benevolent friends. James watched with sobs wracking his body as his treasure daughter was turned into ash and bone. He tore his clothes as he cried, “This is all my fault!” James vowed to reclaim his position and avenge her death. Unknowingly to him, Virginia had the same idea. Before Annabel succumbed to her fate- she released one final decree. “Luchar y resistirse!” Thunder shook the ground and lightning cracked. A strong bolt lit the tree to the left of Annabell Lee. It was a testament of the kingdom’s grievous error- and a promise of revenge.

The kingdom of Mar awoke the morning after the execution to silence. The market stalls stood unopened, the bells of the chapel un-rung. Even the sea, ever roaring, seemed to hold its breath. For the people had seen their princess burn, and their voices, once loyal, once merry-were strangled with grief and fear. In the castle’s highest chamber, Hugh polished the crown. He set it on his head and admired his reflection. His voice echoed in the hall as he rehearsed his coronation vows, steady and self-assured. Yet the councilors who watched from the shadows noticed how he would not meet his own eyes in the mirror. “This kingdom will not mourn a traitor,” Hugh announced later that day, when he called the nobles together. “Annabel Lee was unfit, corrupted by her father’s heresies. From this hour, her name is stricken from our histories. Speak it, and you speak treason.”

The decree was written in iron ink, signed with his seal. However, laws are only words, and words alone cannot kill a memory. In the harbor taverns, sailors sang of the princess who faced fire without flinching. In the fields, farmers told their children the story of her final words—luchar y resistirse. Hugh had thought the flames would erase her, but instead they etched her into legend. James, once king, wandered the countryside in a peasant's cloak. He was gaunt with grief, yet his eyes burned with purpose. He saw the hunger in the villages, the fear in the markets, the cruel taxes Hugh demanded to fund his coronation feast. At every hearth, James whispered the same vow: “My daughter is gone, but her fight is not. Will you take it up?” One by one, the people nodded. Virginia hid in the forest beyond the cliffs, where the wind carried the taste of salt and smoke. Each night, more came to her fire, disgraced soldiers, healers who had defied Hugh’s bans, widows who had lost sons to his prisons. They brought scraps of food, stolen weapons, and tales of cruelty.

She listened, her heart heavy but unbroken. “We are not soldiers,” she told them, “but we are many. And a tide cannot be stopped once it begins to rise.” So began the whisper of rebellion. Hugh, sensing unrest, tightened his grip. He doubled the guard in the city, forbade gatherings after sundown, and set spies in every inn and chapel. Those caught speaking Annabel Lee’s name were branded with ash upon their cheeks. The people lowered their voices, but their fury smoldered. In the council, a gray-haired noble dared to speak. “My lord,” he said carefully, “your rule is feared, but not loved. Fear burns fast, but love endures. The people loved Annabel.” Hugh’s face darkened. “Then let them learn to love silence,” he snapped, and ordered the man taken away.

The noble was never seen again. That night, thunder split the sky, and lightning struck the old execution tree. It smoldered until dawn, its branches black and skeletal. The people who saw it whispered that Annabel Lee had cursed her uncle’s reign. Hugh ordered the tree cut down and the wood burned, but the story spread faster than fire. Virginia stood at the edge of the forest, watching the smoke coil into the sky. She thought of Annabel’s last breath, steady and proud, and felt her own resolve harden. “Mar bleeds,” she told her followers. “Hugh has stolen its crown and its heart. If we wait, he will crush us one by one. But together—together we are stronger than his fire.” The rebels raised their fists, silent but fierce. Thus, in the ashes of a princess, a revolution began.