Prologue
The Birth of a Princess
There was once a Lady Grace:
As pretty as twilight, it was no surprise –
In the eyes of a prince, she found her place.
Her charm and his wit, they made quite a pair:
Balls and dinners, festivals and hearings, they would arrive.
Cheeks rosy with love, they kept meetings secret,
Though no one was surprised at whose name was on the prince’s lips.
For on the day he came of age, he proudly proclaimed,
“It is Lady Grace I desire, let there be no delay—
For in our hearts, we have been wed long before today!”
In two years’ time, tragedy fell:
The prince and his lady, now King and Queen, had no heir.
One attempt led to three, but all ended the same:
Blood on the sheets, an ailing queen,
And the king—sick with worry for his love.
A fourth time, they agreed, would be the last.
So, the castle grew somber as the months slowly passed.
The Queen’s belly swelled but soon illness fell.
The King fretted over her and sought every cure:
Doctors’ poultices failed – Priests’ prayers fared no better.
When all seemed lost, one sage did speak
Of a flower so potent, only three petals would they need,
But the Whispering Rapunzel was both rare and powerful.
The last blooms were well-guarded and tended with care
In the gardens of Queen Gothel of the Everautumn fae.
Powerful and ruthless, war had been their only connection,
But the King did not hesitate to leave for peace at once.
Only three knights and his fear for his wife he took,
And for many days and nights, he traveled with no rest
Until before the Fae throne, he kneeled and made his request.
Impressed by his memory and touched by his devotion,
The Everautumn monarchs agreed with only one condition:
The first-born Princess of the Vedivin Crown
Will wed a son of the Everautumn throne.
Then the War Between Crowns for 200 years would end.
Grateful, the king accepted and took the petals in hand:
It was a small price to pay – the monarch’s demand.
Soon the queen recovered, and a Princess was born.
On her thirteenth birthday, in silks the child was adorned
And sent away as the price of a Queen and following Heirs.
Signed: Grace Vedivin, Queen of the Vedivin Confederation of Kingdoms and Territories
Renée
Chapter 1
Renée’s fingers flitted over the yellowed paper, tracing her mother’s writing. ‘The price of a Queen and following Heirs…’ With a sigh, she leaned back. Out of her window, soft white clouds dotted the morning sky. It was both flattering and daunting to consider herself so priceless an item. Almost as daunting as today’s meeting would be.
Nine years had gone by quickly in hindsight. Years of her life were spent reading, learning, and growing all within the confines of a tower at Everautumn Castle. Carefully, she returned the letter with her mother's other poems. With a smooth motion, she rose and swiped a book from the top of the stack on her desk. It wouldn’t do for someone to see her evening reading so openly. The book went back to its place on her shelf right next to a smooth ivory horn.
Heat flared in her cheeks as she admired the decoration and wondered if her betrothed would be anything like the heroes of her book. Long swords and powerful blows did wonders for the fair women of the stories. It sent a thrill up her back to consider that she may soon get a turn with a hero of her own.
Turning from temptation, she reached for the simple blue gown draped over the foot of her bed. It fit like a glove over her slip and provided just enough modesty. Though she knew they wouldn’t interact with her, she hoped to glimpse the castle guards flying about on their rounds. The reflected light from their translucent, insect-like wings mesmerized her like a clear sky sunrise. She would need to hurry though, as it was almost time for her servants and lady-in-waiting to arrive.
The tower was spacious, several rooms were built around a center staircase that led down to a locked door and up to an unlocked hatch. On the roof, an arrangement of pots and trellises held rows of vibrant green. Delicate red, yellow, and white flowers nestled among the leaves, patiently waiting for the hungry bee or wasp to find them. Her rain barrels were full, the wood still damp from the previous night’s rain. It made watering an easy task.
The plants swayed slightly, their voices lost in the wind. With a focusing breath, Renée opened her mind to the plane of magic. Just beyond the layers and waves of the Weave, the essence of her garden hummed with life. She reached for minds still groggy from starlight – dawn worked to coax them from bed.
They had taken the previous day’s fertilizer well. The few that were still hungry, she made mental notes of. A cutting of rosemary felt much weaker than the surrounding vegetation. Its essence lingered about the roots, weak and starving. She smiled as she kneeled beside it. It had been planted for scarcely a week, but she didn’t mind giving it a little boost of strength.
Its leaves trembled in her cupped hands—its energy stressed. Letting the scent surround her she focused on creating a channel between them. It was a delicate process to direct the energies of the Weave along the connection. The warm pressure of magic ran through the leaves, stems, and roots. It ached as its roots grew and pushed through the damp soil. The hunger abated. Its energy grew strong. Satisfied, she looked over her garden once more before closing her connection to the Weave.
Returning to her room, Renée stretched away the fatigue of spell work. A familiar black cat waited on the bed. Jask, her loyal guardsmen, purred a greeting from his favorite sunspot.
“Happy birthday, your Highness,” the cat said.
“Thank you, Jask. Was hunting fruitful last night?”
“It was excellent. Two mice and a young pigeon filled my belly.”
“Not in the garden
I hope?”
“No,” He reassured her, “As requested I do not hunt in your garden. Nor do any of the other faebeasts as far as I am aware.”
“Excellent.”
Slippers tapped their way up the stone stairs. Her servants entered the common area: some arms held dresses for her to choose from, others carried her bath water. Jask yawned and curled up to nap. He never seemed interested in keeping her company while the servants were around. A young woman knocked on the doorframe before entering. A basket of bread, cheese, and wine hung from her arm. Her braided auburn curls were tucked back into a low bun that was common to elves as it highlighted their freckled faces and long pointed ears.
“Good morning, Renée,” her lady-in-waiting beamed. “I’ve got a Special delivery for the birthday Princess!”
“Saryna! I wasn't expecting you for another half hour. Would that be winter wine I see in your basket?” Her tongue tingled in anticipation. Saryna nodded, grinning as she opened the door wide and motioned the princess out.
“I’ll put it under the counter to keep it cool. Have you eaten?”
“Not yet, I just finished in the garden.”
“Ah, it’s your birthday and you're still up at the break of dawn to tend your plants. I’ll set the kettle on while the girls tend to you.” She disappeared around the corner, heading for the tearoom.
A copper bell chimed when the servants were ready. A small handful of them waited in the bathing room. Renée surrendered herself to their care: the familiar routine soothed her nerves. Their tongues were quick to loosen this morning, and the gossip of the castle filled the room.
The council’s tumult had spilled into the court. As had been their issue for the past year, they questioned the viability of a full-blooded human sitting on the throne. The union would produce an elven heir resulting in a royal with farther sight than a human, but not nearly as tuned to the needs of fae as one of their own. As all of her servants were human and elven, the council’s stance was not taken well.
“I can’t believe they’re acting like this,” one of the servants complained. “Their bloodlines are built on us, but they treat us like some dirty tool. Oh, I can’t stand it.”
There were several nods around the tub. Another one piped in with a more somber tone. “I heard they have a competitor lined up. One that is elven, so the heir will be a Seelie.”
Seelie, the type of fae that dominated the Kingdom of Everautumn. Born of the blood of true fae and humans, they were a kind of fae that were just as hardy as the flightless humans and elves, but still held fast to
their inherent connection to the Weave. The texts had said that the seelie fae were not as powerful as their pure-blooded counterparts, but they were not as frail either. It was a necessary trade to survive years of war with the rapidly growing human kingdoms.
Renée relaxed in the water as servants gossiped. The council’s condescension stung but she bore it silently. A lasting relationship between Vedivin and Everautumn depended on her utmost cooperation. Stewing in thoughts of how to make the best impression of her abilities and schooling to the court, Renée would have missed Saryna entering the room if it weren’t for the candles and sconces growing brighter at her presence.
“Nine years,” Saryna said as she grazed her fingers over the edge of the tub warming the water to a gentle steam. “How are you feeling, knowing that you’ve spent nine years of your life in this tower?”
“Very little changed from day to day. If her Imperial Highness of Vedivin did not send me a poem for each year of my stay, I would not be able to tell nine years from three.” Renée looked over the perfume vials offered to her. The rosemary and mint were getting low, she’d have to request another vial soon.
“Well, today should be full of changes. We’ll be touring the castle as soon as you're ready. We’ll have lunch on the South balcony, and then tour the royal gardens. Her Serene Highness invited us to have tea this afternoon. Following that, we’ll have a few hours with ourselves before supper with the royal family.”
“Ah, I fear I’ll be clumsy with a conversation with my length of confinement.”
“Nonsense,” Saryna said. “You’ll do wonderfully. I’m sure of it.”
A servant approached with a few beaded hair nets. “The emeralds or the sapphires?”
“Sapphires, please. It may go better with the green dress I saw brought in.”
Chatter continued idly as the girls worked her ankle-length brown waves into intricate plaits that trailed down her back. Her nails were trimmed and temporarily covered with staining paste as they worked. ...
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
