The king and queen grew fond of her. They admired her humility and the kindness she showed so naturally.
As time passed, what began as simple meetings grew into something deeper. They laughed together, shared quiet moments, and slowly fell in love.
Then one evening, under their favorite iroko tree, with the full moon glowing softly above them, the prince went down on one knee and asked Grace to be his wife.
The news of Grace’s engagement spread through the village like wildfire. People rejoiced. They sang her praises, celebrating the girl whose kindness had finally been rewarded. Everywhere her name was mentioned, it was followed by smiles and admiration.
But inside the small hut at the edge of the village, joy did not enter.
Amanda sat quietly in a corner, her face dark with anger as she listened to the villagers outside.
“Grace, the future princess,” they said. “Grace, the chosen one.”
Each word felt like a slap. Her hands clenched tightly. Her chest burned with something she could no longer control: jealousy.
“How can she be the one?” Amanda muttered under her breath. “We share the same face. We are the same. Why does she get everything?”
Their mother sat nearby, watching her carefully. Unlike the villagers, she did not celebrate. There was no pride in her eyes, only calculation.
Amanda stood up suddenly, pacing back and forth. “I will not watch her live a life meant for me,” she snapped. “I refuse to remain here while she becomes a queen.”
Her mother finally spoke, her voice calm but cold. “And what do you intend to do about it?”
Amanda stopped walking. Slowly, a dangerous idea began to form in her mind. At first it was only a thought. But the more she considered it, the more it made sense.
“We look exactly alike,” she said slowly. “If Grace were not there, no one would know the difference.”
The room fell silent.
Her mother did not react with shock. Instead, she leaned forward slightly. “Go on,” she said.
Amanda’s eyes darkened. “On the wedding day, she will be gone, and I will take her place.”
There was a brief pause. Then a faint smile appeared on her mother’s lips. It was not the smile of a loving parent. It was the smile of someone who had already made a choice.
“You are right,” she said quietly. “No one will question it.”
From that moment, the plan began.
They watched Grace closely. They learned her routines, her movements, her habits. And all the while, Grace remained unaware. She continued preparing for her wedding with a heart full of joy, trusting the very people who were planning to destroy her.
The night before the wedding, as Grace slept peacefully, Amanda lay awake staring into the darkness. Her mind was no longer filled with doubt, only determination.
By this time tomorrow, she thought, everything will be mine.
The morning of the wedding arrived bright and beautiful. The entire village was alive with excitement. Drums echoed in the distance. Women sang joyful songs, and preparations filled every corner of the land.
Grace woke early, her heart full of happiness. This was the day she had been waiting for, the day she would marry the man she loved.
She began to prepare quietly, her hands steady, her face glowing with peace. But just as she was about to leave for the palace, her mother entered the room.
“There is something you must do first,” she said.
Grace looked at her, confused.
“A special bridal tradition,” her mother continued. “It must be done before you are seen at the ceremony. It will bring blessings to your marriage.”
Grace hesitated for only a moment. She trusted her mother without question.
“Come,” her mother said.
Amanda stood quietly behind her, her expression unreadable.
Together, the three of them walked toward the river at the edge of the village. The path was empty. The sounds of celebration faded behind them.
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