The silence in the ballroom was not empty.<\/p>\n
It was alive.<\/p>\n
It moved over the gold-leaf walls, across the crystal chandeliers, between the hundreds of guests frozen in silk, satin, medals, and jewels. It pressed against the orchestra until the violinists lowered their bows. It settled over the television cameras positioned near the rear balcony. It found Rachel in the center of the room, still holding her bouquet like it was the last piece of her perfect life that had not yet shattered.<\/p>\n
Prince Alexander stared at her as if he had never seen her before.<\/p>\n
\u201cRachel,\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n
His voice was not angry.<\/p>\n
That made it worse.<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s lips parted, but no words came out.<\/p>\n
The king still held my hands. His palms were warm, his grip firm. He looked older in person than he did in photographs, but there was nothing fragile about him. He carried the kind of authority that did not need volume.<\/p>\n
\u201cCommander Carter,\u201d he said, \u201cyou were expected this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
I swallowed. \u201cYour Majesty, I was not aware of that.\u201d<\/p>\n
A murmur passed through the ballroom.<\/p>\n
Rachel finally moved. She took one small step forward, her smile returning in pieces, like someone trying to repair a cracked mirror while everyone watched.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere has been a misunderstanding,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
The king did not look at her.<\/p>\n
Prince Alexander did.<\/p>\n
\u201cA misunderstanding?\u201d he repeated.<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s eyes flashed toward me. Not pleading. Warning.<\/p>\n
I knew that look. I had seen it when we were kids and she had broken Mom\u2019s favorite serving bowl, then silently begged me to say the dog did it. I had seen it in high school when she wanted me to cover for her sneaking out. I had seen it in New York when she told me to say I was deployed because my presence did not fit her image.<\/p>\n
Only this time, we were not standing in a kitchen in Ohio.<\/p>\n
We were standing in a royal palace.<\/p>\n
In front of the king.<\/p>\n
In front of cameras.<\/p>\n
In front of the man she had just married.<\/p>\n
The king\u2019s aide, a narrow-faced man with silver hair, stepped forward again.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour Majesty, the palace guest office received formal notice three months ago that Commander Carter would be unable to attend due to active military deployment. That notice was accompanied by a message asking that her absence not be publicly discussed.\u201d<\/p>\n
My pulse slowed.<\/p>\n
Not because I was calm.<\/p>\n
Because combat training does strange things to the body. It takes the chaos around you and folds it into clean lines. Facts. Threats. Exits. Witnesses.<\/p>\n
I looked at Rachel.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told them I was deployed?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her expression stiffened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was trying to protect you,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
A sound broke from me. Not laughter. Not quite.<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel lifted her chin. Her earrings trembled beneath the chandeliers.<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom being overwhelmed,\u201d she said. \u201cFrom media attention. From royal protocols you didn\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
Prince Alexander\u2019s face tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily is a United States Navy commander,\u201d he said. \u201cShe understands protocol.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel turned toward him, and for the first time, her perfect bridal mask slipped.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t understand,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI had to manage everything. Every guest, every camera angle, every detail. I could not let anything ruin this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something in the room changed.<\/p>\n
Not loudly.<\/p>\n
Not dramatically.<\/p>\n
But everyone felt it.<\/p>\n
This.<\/p>\n
Not us.<\/p>\n
Not our wedding.<\/p>\n
This.<\/p>\n
The image. The production. The dream she had built so carefully that no one inside it was allowed to breathe unless it looked elegant.<\/p>\n
The king released my hands and turned toward the guests.<\/p>\n
\u201cCommander Carter will be seated with the family.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s bouquet dropped slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour Majesty\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
He raised one hand.<\/p>\n
One simple motion.<\/p>\n
Rachel stopped speaking.<\/p>\n
Two palace attendants appeared as if summoned from the walls. They guided me forward through the ballroom while every head turned. I could feel camera lenses following me, could hear whispers in half a dozen languages.<\/p>\n
American officer.<\/p>\n
The bride\u2019s sister.<\/p>\n
Saved the prince.<\/p>\n
Removed from the guest list.<\/p>\n
I kept my eyes forward.<\/p>\n
Not because I felt strong.<\/p>\n
Because if I looked at Rachel too long, I might remember the girl she used to be.<\/p>\n
The girl who used to braid my hair before school.<\/p>\n
The girl who cried when I left for boot camp.<\/p>\n
The girl who once said, \u201cNo matter where we end up, Em, you\u2019re still my person.\u201d<\/p>\n
They placed me at the royal family\u2019s table, two seats from the king.<\/p>\n
Rachel remained standing in the center of the ballroom, looking suddenly small inside a gown that had probably cost more than our parents\u2019 house.<\/p>\n
Prince Alexander did not return to her side immediately.<\/p>\n
Instead, he came to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cCommander,\u201d he said softly.<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
His formal mask was gone. In its place was something raw and familiar, though I could not place it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI owe you an apology,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor not asking sooner why my wife\u2019s sister had never appeared at any private family gathering. For believing every explanation because it was easier than questioning the woman I loved.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was nothing I could say to that.<\/p>\n
So I said the only thing that was true.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know who you were.\u201d<\/p>\n
A faint, bitter smile touched his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then the king stood at the head table, and the room obeyed his silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cMany here know my son as Prince Alexander,\u201d he began. \u201cSome know him as a diplomat, a patron of medical relief, a naval reserve officer. But five years ago, during a multinational rescue operation in the Mediterranean, his vessel was struck during a night evacuation of civilians.\u201d<\/p>\n
My breath caught.<\/p>\n
Mediterranean.<\/p>\n
Night evacuation.<\/p>\n
Smoke. Screaming. Water rising through twisted metal. A young officer pinned under a collapsed bulkhead, bleeding heavily, refusing evacuation until the last civilian child was moved.<\/p>\n
I remembered him.<\/p>\n
Not as a prince.<\/p>\n
Not as royalty.<\/p>\n
As Lieutenant Alex Moreau.<\/p>\n
The stubborn idiot who kept saying, \u201cGet the others out first,\u201d while his own leg was crushed and the compartment filled with seawater.<\/p>\n
The king\u2019s voice continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cCommander Carter entered that section after it had already been declared too unstable. She organized the extraction of civilians, carried classified communications equipment out of the wreckage, and personally pulled my son from a flooded compartment moments before the vessel went under.\u201d<\/p>\n
The ballroom disappeared.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I was back there.<\/p>\n
Salt in my mouth.<\/p>\n
Blood on my sleeves.<\/p>\n
Metal screaming around us.<\/p>\n
His hand gripping mine as I shouted over the alarms, \u201cYou can argue with me when you\u2019re breathing on deck.\u201d<\/p>\n
And him, half-conscious, still managing to say, \u201cYou\u2019re very bossy for someone saving my life.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had forgotten that part.<\/p>\n
The king looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy family never forgot.\u201d<\/p>\n
The guests stood.<\/p>\n
At first, only a few.<\/p>\n
Then all of them.<\/p>\n
Applause filled the ballroom.<\/p>\n
I had heard applause before. Ceremonies. Promotions. Homecomings.<\/p>\n
This felt different.<\/p>\n
Because Rachel was still standing alone in the aisle, and every clap sounded like another door closing around her.<\/p>\n
I did not enjoy it.<\/p>\n
That surprised me.<\/p>\n
Part of me thought I would feel satisfaction. Vindication. Some sharp pleasure after months of humiliation.<\/p>\n
Instead, I felt tired.<\/p>\n
Tired of being hidden.<\/p>\n
Tired of being treated like proof of a life Rachel wanted erased.<\/p>\n
Tired of realizing that my sister had not simply been ashamed of my uniform.<\/p>\n
She had been ashamed of our parents, our childhood, every scar that made us real.<\/p>\n
The applause ended when the queen rose.<\/p>\n
She was graceful, silver-haired, dressed in pale blue silk. She came to me and kissed both my cheeks.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were not supposed to arrive like this,\u201d she said quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes moved briefly toward Rachel.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut perhaps this was the only way the truth could enter the room.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dinner was served after that, though no one tasted much.<\/p>\n
The orchestra resumed, but the music sounded cautious. Conversations restarted in fragments. Guests pretended not to watch the royal table while doing nothing else.<\/p>\n
Rachel sat beside Alexander, but an ocean could have fit between their chairs.<\/p>\n
I watched her try to recover.<\/p>\n
She smiled at an ambassador.<\/p>\n
She laughed softly at something a duchess said.<\/p>\n
She touched Alexander\u2019s sleeve twice.<\/p>\n
He did not respond either time.<\/p>\n
Then came the speeches.<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s maid of honor spoke first, voice shaking. Then a royal cousin gave a polished toast about unity and tradition. After that, the master of ceremonies approached the microphone and announced that Prince Alexander wished to speak.<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s face brightened with desperate relief.<\/p>\n
This, I realized, was the moment she expected him to save her.<\/p>\n
He stood slowly.<\/p>\n
The room quieted.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy wife and I have received extraordinary kindness today,\u201d Alexander said. \u201cFor that, I thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s shoulders eased.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut marriage is not made of photographs,\u201d he continued. \u201cNor titles. Nor gowns. Nor approval from strangers.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s fingers tightened around her champagne flute.<\/p>\n
Alexander looked across the room, not at the guests, but at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is made of truth. And today, before God, my family, and the world, I learned that a truth was deliberately kept from me.\u201d<\/p>\n
The ballroom went still again.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily Carter should have stood beside her sister today. Not because she saved my life. Not because she wears a uniform. But because she is family.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel whispered, \u201cAlexander, please.\u201d<\/p>\n
He did not look down.<\/p>\n
\u201cI will not discuss private matters in full before guests. But I will say this clearly: no crown, no title, no marriage can be built on contempt for the people who made us.\u201d<\/p>\n
A faint gasp rose from somewhere near the front.<\/p>\n
Rachel stood so quickly her chair scraped the marble floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cI made one decision,\u201d she said, voice trembling. \u201cOne. Because I wanted today to be perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alexander finally looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou lied to me for three months.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was protecting us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were protecting an image.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled with tears, but they were not soft tears. They were angry ones.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you know what it\u2019s like?\u201d she asked, voice rising despite herself. \u201cTo be judged every second? To know they are waiting for one mistake? One ugly relative, one embarrassing story, one photograph they can twist?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ugly relative.<\/p>\n
The words landed quietly.<\/p>\n
That was their power.<\/p>\n
Not shouted. Not dressed up. Just spoken.<\/p>\n
I saw the instant Rachel realized what she had said.<\/p>\n
Her hand flew to her mouth.<\/p>\n
The queen closed her eyes.<\/p>\n
Alexander looked as if something inside him had been cut clean through.<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
Not because I had planned to.<\/p>\n
Not because I wanted a scene.<\/p>\n
Because my body knew what my heart had not yet admitted.<\/p>\n
I was done.<\/p>\n
\u201cExcuse me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
I left the royal table, crossed the ballroom, and walked toward the terrace doors.<\/p>\n
No one stopped me.<\/p>\n
Outside, the night air hit my face, cold and clean. The palace gardens stretched below in perfect geometric patterns, fountains silver under the moonlight. Somewhere beyond the walls, a city celebrated a wedding that was already cracking from the inside.<\/p>\n
I gripped the stone railing.<\/p>\n
My uniform suddenly felt heavy.<\/p>\n
The door opened behind me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Rachel said.<\/p>\n
I did not turn around.<\/p>\n
She came closer, her gown whispering over the terrace stones.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t mean ugly,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, you did.\u201d<\/p>\n
She inhaled sharply.<\/p>\n
I looked at her then.<\/p>\n
Her makeup was flawless, but her eyes were red. She looked beautiful. Devastated. Furious. Terrified.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I saw both versions of my sister at once.<\/p>\n
The little girl from Ohio.<\/p>\n
And the woman who had erased me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think I don\u2019t know what people say?\u201d she asked. \u201cThat I got lucky? That I trapped him? That I\u2019m some American nobody who learned which fork to use and smiled her way into a palace?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you decided the solution was to pretend you had no family?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never pretended that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told people I was deployed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI panicked.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cYou planned.\u201d<\/p>\n
She flinched.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour message to the palace was three months ago. You told me one month before the wedding that the guest list was limited. That means you removed me before you even told me I wasn\u2019t invited.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mouth opened.<\/p>\n
Closed.<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
The truth did not need witnesses now.<\/p>\n
It stood between us plainly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought,\u201d she whispered, \u201cif everyone met you, they would compare us.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel laughed once, bitterly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou never saw it. Of course you didn\u2019t. You walked into every room like you didn\u2019t care if anyone approved. Teachers loved you. Mom and Dad trusted you. You joined the Navy and suddenly everyone talked about sacrifice and bravery and discipline. I spent my whole life trying to become someone impressive, and you did it without trying.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is not why I served.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d she snapped. \u201cThat\u2019s what made it worse.\u201d<\/p>\n
The terrace fell silent.<\/p>\n
Behind the glass doors, the wedding continued like a painting pretending not to burn.<\/p>\n
I studied her face.<\/p>\n
All these years, I had thought Rachel was ashamed because I was too plain, too military, too connected to the ordinary life she wanted to escape.<\/p>\n
But under that shame was something uglier.<\/p>\n
Competition.<\/p>\n
She had not hidden me because I was beneath her.<\/p>\n
She had hidden me because some part of her feared I might stand taller.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why you didn\u2019t want me in uniform,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She looked away.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wanted to be the only one in the room people admired.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s lips trembled.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was supposed to be my day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd it was,\u201d I said. \u201cUntil the truth arrived.\u201d<\/p>\n
The terrace door opened again.<\/p>\n
Alexander stepped out.<\/p>\n
Rachel straightened immediately, wiping under her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlex\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
He held up a folded document.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
Rachel went pale.<\/p>\n
Even before I saw it, she knew.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is what?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
Alexander\u2019s jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis was found in the wedding office after my father ordered the staff to review all correspondence about Emily\u2019s absence.\u201d<\/p>\n
He unfolded the page.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe palace received a signed declaration stating that Commander Emily Carter not only declined attendance, but requested no contact from the royal household due to personal resentment toward the marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach turned.<\/p>\n
Rachel whispered, \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alexander read on.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt also states that she considered the royal family \u2018elitist, performative, and incompatible with American military values.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
I took one step toward him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never wrote that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Rachel shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t write that either.\u201d<\/p>\n
For the first time since the confrontation began, I believed her.<\/p>\n
Not because she deserved belief.<\/p>\n
Because her fear changed shape.<\/p>\n
This was not guilt.<\/p>\n
This was recognition.<\/p>\n
Alexander noticed it too.<\/p>\n
\u201cRachel,\u201d he said carefully, \u201cwho had access to your wedding correspondence?\u201d<\/p>\n
She said nothing.<\/p>\n
The garden fountains murmured below us.<\/p>\n
\u201cRachel,\u201d he repeated.<\/p>\n
She looked toward the ballroom doors, toward the guests, toward the palace glowing around us like a gilded cage.<\/p>\n
Then she whispered a name.<\/p>\n
\u201cCamille.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alexander\u2019s eyes hardened.<\/p>\n
Lady Camille Voss.<\/p>\n
I had heard the name in interviews. Rachel\u2019s royal etiquette adviser. A polished aristocrat from an old family, always photographed near Rachel during public events. Tall, elegant, unreadable.<\/p>\n
Rachel gripped her bouquet with both hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe helped me with everything,\u201d she said. \u201cThe guest list, the seating chart, the press notes. She said there were people at court who would never accept me if I seemed too American. Too common. Too attached to…\u201d Her eyes flicked toward me. \u201cShe said I had to control the story before they controlled it for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you believed her,\u201d Alexander said.<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s face crumpled.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to.\u201d<\/p>\n
The door opened once more.<\/p>\n
This time, it was the king.<\/p>\n
He stepped onto the terrace with two guards behind him and the silver-haired aide at his side.<\/p>\n
\u201cLady Camille has left the palace,\u201d the aide said.<\/p>\n
Alexander turned sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe departed twenty minutes ago through the east service gate. Her apartments are being searched now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel looked faint.<\/p>\n
The king\u2019s gaze settled on her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour desire for perfection made you useful to someone with far greater ambitions.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel\u2019s voice broke. \u201cWhat ambitions?\u201d<\/p>\n
The aide handed Alexander another folder.<\/p>\n
He opened it.<\/p>\n
His face changed as he read.<\/p>\n
The king looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cCommander Carter, I regret that your arrival was forced by humiliation rather than honor. But I fear your exclusion from this wedding was not merely a family matter.\u201d<\/p>\n
My skin prickled.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that mean, Your Majesty?\u201d<\/p>\n
The king\u2019s eyes moved toward the ballroom, where music still played for people who had no idea the ground beneath the palace was shifting.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt means someone wanted you absent today.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned. \u201cMe?\u201d<\/p>\n
The aide nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cDuring the rescue mission five years ago, you recovered more than Prince Alexander. You also secured a damaged communications case from the vessel.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI turned it over to joint command.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d the king said. \u201cAnd inside that case was evidence of a private network selling naval intelligence through humanitarian corridors. Several arrests followed quietly.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered the case.<\/p>\n
Heavy. Blackened by fire. Chained to a dead officer\u2019s wrist.<\/p>\n
I had never known what was inside.<\/p>\n
The king continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot everyone involved was caught.\u201d<\/p>\n
The terrace seemed to tilt beneath me.<\/p>\n
Alexander looked from his father to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think Camille is connected?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe think,\u201d the king said, \u201cthat Lady Camille\u2019s family lost considerable influence after that investigation. We also think she cultivated Rachel for more than social reasons.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel shook her head slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. No, she was my friend.\u201d<\/p>\n
The king\u2019s expression did not soften.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was your handler.\u201d<\/p>\n
The word struck harder than any accusation.<\/p>\n
Rachel sank onto the stone bench behind her, her white gown spreading around her like spilled moonlight.<\/p>\n
For once, she had no performance left.<\/p>\n
No graceful recovery.<\/p>\n
No perfect answer.<\/p>\n
Only the terrible knowledge that while she had been trying to climb into a fairy tale, someone had been using her vanity as a staircase.<\/p>\n
Then the aide turned to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cCommander, there is one more matter.\u201d<\/p>\n
He handed me a small sealed envelope.<\/p>\n
My name was written across the front.<\/p>\n
Not typed.<\/p>\n
Handwritten.<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
I knew that handwriting.<\/p>\n
Dad\u2019s.<\/p>\n
But Dad had died eight months before the wedding.<\/p>\n
My fingers went cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did you get this?\u201d<\/p>\n
The aide\u2019s voice lowered.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was found tonight in Lady Camille\u2019s private desk.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at the envelope.<\/p>\n
The palace sounds faded.<\/p>\n
Rachel stood slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
I broke the seal.<\/p>\n
Inside was a single page.<\/p>\n
Dad\u2019s writing was shakier than I remembered, but unmistakable.<\/p>\n
Emily, if this ever reaches you, it means your sister is closer to danger than she realizes. Rachel thinks she found a prince. I think someone found her first.<\/p>\n
I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n
At the bottom of the page, beneath my father\u2019s signature, were three words underlined twice.<\/p>\n
Trust the king.<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
The king\u2019s face was grave.<\/p>\n
Alexander stepped closer.<\/p>\n
Rachel covered her mouth.<\/p>\n
Then every light in the palace went out.<\/p>\n
…If you want to know what happened next, please type \u201cYES\u201d and like for more.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Part 2 The silence in the ballroom was not empty. It was alive. It moved over the gold-leaf walls, across the crystal chandeliers, between the hundreds of guests frozen in … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":16291,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8,9,2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-16329","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16329","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=16329"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16329\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":16330,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16329\/revisions\/16330"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/16291"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=16329"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=16329"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=16329"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}