Holland reached for Leonetta, sliding his hands across the smooth silk of her gown and pulling her against him, the heaving of her breasts causing electricity to bolt through him. She reached up and ran her hands softly through his hair and kissed the crevice between his neck and shoulders. He leaned in, breathing deeply, hoping that her floral perfume would cling to his nostrils.
The two sat in an embrace for quite a while, negligibly ignoring the passing time and those coming and going from the castle. With their lips pressed together and the magnetic attraction between the two, time seemed to not exist when they were close. Just as Holland reached around Leonetta and gently tugged at the buttons on the back of her dress, a voice sounded out, causing both to jump from their embrace.
Ashia stood at the opening of the trellis, her cheeks blushing for the intrusion, and her hands clutched tightly together. Leonetta stood from the bench and ran to her side, realizing there was more to her strained stance than just embarrassment. She looked down at her legs, hand prints beginning to bruise on her thighs, and a small line of dried blood that stayed imprinted on her dark tan skin. She wrapped her arms around the small servant girl and hummed a fae melody softly in her ear.
“Draw a bath in my quarters,” Leonetta spoke to another girl that had escorted Ashia into the gardens. “Bring salts and lavender. Have a guard placed outside of my room.”
The girl bowed and ran off toward the castle kitchen. Leonetta pulled back from Ashia and lifted her face up, the light causing Ashia to blink quickly. There were red splotches on her cheeks, but Leonetta couldn’t tell if it was from a beating or Ashia’s tears that she was now holding back. She turned and winked at Holland, who was staring angrily out the trellis doors and up at the castle. She put her arm around Ashia and began walking toward the doors to the porch.
“We will get you well taken care of,” Leonetta whispered. “This will not be forgotten. You have my word.”
Holland watched as the two girls walked slowly across the garden path, Ashia’s legs losing momentum at different points. Anger was boiling in the pit of his stomach, and he knew if he had been his dragon at that moment he would have torched the entire grounds. He gathered his sword from the bench and tucked it in a hollow along the trellis line and made his way to the castle gates. Once outside, his stride did not slow as he moved through the dark and dusty streets, more anger penetrating his chest as he passed small children starving in the dirt. The guards at the front bowed to the commander’s assistant and asked no questions as they opened a small door allowing him to walk out of Thorn’s high walls.
Holland waited until he heard the latch lock on the door behind him and took off running down the path. With every step, energy surged through him, and his skin began to shimmer in the late afternoon sun. With a burst of speed, he leaped into the air, his body moving and changing as he came down. When Holland touched back down, he was no longer human, and his black claws dug deep into the burnt soil beneath him. He raised up, as tall as the city walls behind him, letting out a roar that echoed through the hills and down into the flatlands below.
He knew he must take flight–soar with the air against his scales–as far away from his commander as he could get in that moment. He feared if he had stayed for just a moment longer, Oedipus would be nothing more than shreds of a man tossed across the flowering barriers of the garden. He may be golden at heart, but the injustices his commander continued to cause slowly chipped away at the honor he once had for the king’s men. At that moment, even Leonetta’s sweet face was charred from his mind.
***
Steam rose from the large, wooden tub sitting in the princess’ chambers. The maiden poured the last bit of hot water in, bowed, and left the room. Ashia sat, arms tightly around her naked body, as Leonetta tossed lavender branches into the water and sprinkled salt throughout. Slowly, the smell reached Ashia’s nose, and her muscles began to relax. It was a rare occasion that Leonetta used her fae magic, especially since she had only been taught a little bit of it before her father had forbidden the lessons, but this moment was exactly what it was intended for.
Leonetta washed her hands in the hand bowl on the counter and walked over to the tub, kneeling behind Ashia. She began to chant quietly under her breath, glowing blue rays flowing from her hands. She placed her hands on Ashia’s shoulders and watched as that blue light moved over her, covering every inch of her body. As Leonetta released, she fell back slightly, the magic within her taking a small toll on her immortal body. Though the fae were thought of as immortal, they could, in fact, be killed. Either a blow severing the head from their neck, or the use of their magic for an extended time could end their lives.
As the blue light dissipated, Ashia breathed a sigh of relief, all injuries fading from memory. Leonetta pulled herself up and kissed Ashia on the forehead and turned toward the door. She paused and looked over at her Hand who was utterly exhausted.
“Stay and soak,” she whispered. “I have something to attend to.”
The castle was quiet today, and the sound of Leonetta’s feet hitting the stone floors echoed through the halls. Her anger was rising with each step as she imagined her future husband–and future king–lounging in his bed after desecrating her Hand. She did not slow as she approached Oedipus’ chamber doors and gave the guard a nasty look as she passed. She flung open the large, wooden door and crossed the room to the windows, throwing open the curtains and letting light flood the room. Oedipus turned over in his bed and groaned.
Without pause, she crossed to his desk, grabbing a small dagger, and walked quickly to his bedside. She pressed the blade to Oedipus’ neck, his eyes still closed in sleep. Slowly, he opened them, looking up at Leonetta, a grin spreading across his face.
“I swear to the gods I will cut your throat and let you die here,” she whispered through gritted teeth.
“I would die no other way, my dear,” he said, keeping perfect eye contact with her. “But it would be a travesty for me not to witness your father behead you for killing the future king and his most trusted advisor.”
“I do not fear my father,” she protested, pushing the knife harder against his skin.
“A stupid idea to have, considering he doesn’t even wish to look at you,” Oedipus replied, still smiling.
“Today is not the day I meet my death, but I promise you, one day, king or not, I will rid this world of your pestilence.” With that, Leonetta withdrew the dagger and tossed it on the floor. She walked toward the door but stopped at the sound of Oedipus’ voice as he dressed.
“I would do to you what I did to your lovely Hand, but your father would be unhappy, seeing as he gives his luck to the gods. But trust me,” he said, crossing the room quickly and grabbing Leonetta by the face, “if you ever come to me in that manner again, you will pray for death.”
Leonetta grabbed Oedipus’ hand against her cheeks and smiled as she spit in his face. Oedipus drew his hand back and swung, letting the outside of his hand meet sharply with her skin. Leonetta fell to the floor, grabbing her cheek and looking back at the commander.
“Watch yourself, girl,” he said, wiping his face with the handkerchief from his pocket. “Or you will find that your reign as queen may come to a bloody end. Oedipus stepped over Leonetta, opening the door and exiting. The guard turned to look inside, but being loyal to the commander let the princess stay on the ground. Slowly, she picked herself up, pressing a hand against her stomach to steady her breathing.
She searched her mind for answers, refusing to believe this was her future. Many nights she had sat at her window, creating a plan to rule Avalon but never speaking of it to anyone. Leonetta knew there wasn’t a point to attacking her future husband, but at that moment, standing in the cold, barren chambers, her resolve changed, and so did her plan.
Leonetta, feeling her cheek begin to heal from the magic inside her, made her way down through the castle and into the dungeon. She tiptoed through the damp smelling halls underneath Castle Thorn until she re
ached a large, wooden door. She knocked three times and waited as footsteps approached. The door creaked open, and Ardontis peeked out at the princess.
“Your Grace,” he said, shuffling to the side to allow her to enter. “Forgive me of the mess, I was not expecting you.”
Leonetta nodded and looked around the room. It was large and dark, with tall stone walls and bookshelves lining every corner. Papers were strewn across the Faith’s desk, and he scrambled to organize them quickly. She put her hand up and sighed.
“Do not worry yourself, Your Faith,” she commanded. He stopped and looked up at her inquisitively.
“What brings you to the dungeon on a day like today?” he asked carefully. No one visited Ardontis outside of service to the gods unless there was a secret afloat. “Should you not be preparing for your wedding? It is only a moon’s cycle away.”
“I have a question for you,” she spoke strongly, ignoring his questions. “How strong is your dedication to my kingdom?”
“My Lady,” he replied with a dry chuckle. “I would say pretty strong, seeing as I have been here for many marks before your father was king. Why do you ask?”
“Would you say your loyalty lies more with the kingdom than the throne?” she continued.
“That is a difficult question, as they are both as one in my eyes,” he replied politically.
“Ardontis,” she said, taking a seat across from him, “my father’s reign is growing short; we all know this. When I take the throne on my eighteenth mark of birth, he announced he will be rescinding his chair to my betrothed.” Ardontis nodded in agreement.
“My betrothed is not fit to bring Avalon back to its greatness,” she said swiftly, without remorse. “So, I am here to ask for your service.”
“Your Grace,” Ardontis said, attempting to weigh his words carefully, “you will be the queen. Of course, you have my service. I can attempt to council Oedipus as time passes, but we know he is strong-willed.”
“I am asking for your allegiance,” she blurted out, annoyed by his unwillingness to embrace her thoughts. “Only mine.”
“My Lady,” he gasped, “what you speak of is treason.”
“Come, Ardontis,” Leonetta said as she rose from her chair and walked over to the bookshelf. “Let’s not pretend that you are not the one lurking in the shadows, collecting secrets, and instrumenting the kingdom’s path.”
Ardontis stood quietly, folding his hands in front of him and watching as the princess perused his books. He knew where this conversation was going, but he needed her to say it herself. The princess was the next Queen of Avalon, and for that, she must be bold in her intentions.
“I’ll say it plainly,” she spoke, not waiting for a response. “For far too long I have watched Avalon seep into the dismal demise of my father’s grief. Slaves are sold by the hundreds daily, and our people have fallen into poverty. I want to rule Avalon…alone.”
With those words, Ardontis walked over to the door and closed it from prying ears, leaving just the two of them in the cold, dark dungeon.
Chapter Three: Rebels and Ladies
Osiris yawned as he climbed out of the bed, ignoring the young servant girl as she quickly scrambled for her clothing, holding back her urge to run from the king’s room. He pulled his brown leather pants on and cinched the laces in the front before walking over to his desk to grab a satchel of coins. He paused momentarily as he stared up at the last painting of Leonetta’s mother that existed in the Kingdom of Avalon. A twinge of sadness hit his chest, but he pushed it aside and covered it with bitterness.
“Here,” he said, tossing the girl several coins. “For your trouble. You probably are behind on your tasks and will have to work late.”
The girl nodded and scurried out of the room, tucking the prize in her dirty, woven pockets. She looked to the left as she slinked through the halls, catching the back of Leonetta as she hurried down toward the dungeon. The girl thought it weird the princess would be visiting the dungeons, but shook the thought from her mind, knowing it was much more important she never pay attention to the happenings of the castle. Her name was Ida, and she had spent nineteen of twenty-three marks of life inside the castle walls. She had learned a few tricks to survival, especially when the king was so volatile and his commander would torture random servants, when he was angry enough.
As she disappeared into the maze of hallways leading to the kitchen, Osiris emerged, dressed and ready for his meeting with the Council. Though he had chastised Oedipus for his constant search for revenge, the words of a coup didn’t sit well in his stomach. He knew the castle was falling into ruin with the serious lack of crops and resources that plagued his lands. He walked toward the chapel, feeling a prayer to the gods was necessary before releasing his plans to his advisors.
The sanctuary was grand, and the flickering of the candles cast ominous shadows across the chapel walls. Rows of wooden benches lined the pit of the chapel, where groups of valiant knights and ladies would sit and ask the gods for mercy in this dark time. Osiris searched the altar for Ardontis, who usually waited to give leadership through prayer between his king and the gods, but he was nowhere in sight. Osiris knelt in front of the large statue of the crown, shining gold flames shooting through and around it as a symbol of the ever-burning fire linking the king to the gods.
He sat silent for a moment, asking the gods for their wisdom before his mind began to drift off. He fumbled around, attempting to get his thoughts in check but ended up just standing and lighting a candle before turning to leave the sanctuary. For years, he had paid homage to those he believed lit his path to greatness but was unable to find the space in his mind to truly ask for their guidance. As he stepped out of the sanctuary doors and turned to walk toward the meeting room, he saw Ardontis and Leonetta standing close and speaking. Leonetta turned as she saw her father and bowed.
“Father,” she said in a stiff voice, “I was just going to seek council with the gods myself.”
“Leonetta,” he said, stepping forward in awe as to the likeness she held to her mother. “You are beautiful as always. Revel in your time in sanctuary.” He kissed Leonetta on the head and watched as she quietly walked into the sanctuary and closed the doors behind her, making eye contact with him one last time. He turned to Ardontis.
“I wondered where you were,” he said with a quiet tone.
“Yes, forgive me, Your Grace,” he said as they turned and began walking to the meeting. “Leonetta needed council for her upcoming nuptials.”
“Ah,” the king said, his mood lightening a bit. “Yes, the wedding. Remind me, I need to speak with you in confidence after the meeting.”
“Of course,” Ardontis said, bowing his head. They walked in silence the rest of the way and watched as the guards held the doors for them.
As they entered, the four men sitting at the large, rectangular, wooden table stood and bowed slightly. The king walked toward the table, taking each man’s facial expression in, wondering what mood his advisors would be in that day. Oedipus stood loosely as he always did. To his left was the king’s empty chair, and to his right was Lord Chirus, the Exchequer of the Kingdom. He was an older man, who wore small glasses, and lines wrinkled his forehead from sitting in dark offices, squinting at financial books all day. The king could never tell where his information would lead as his face always held a look of concern.
Across the table from Oedipus sat Verian, a fae, who had stayed in the kingdom despite his people’s move across the sea to the Vale. He never held an expression of anything other than calm, as most fae would. His long, silver hair glistened, and he wore a small necklace around his neck that held a triangular charm representing the fae nation. The king disliked his homage to the fae but understood they were a loyal people, to the death. He was in charge of the welfare of all non-human creatures that lived within Avalon. He was a disagreeable man, always looking to better the lives of those in the kingdom instead of following orders, but the king found that having him as a
revered councilman was vital to keeping the ogre, shifter, and fae communities in check.
Next to Verian sat Delphius, the man that kept the connection of the sanctuary and the city intact in times of hardship. His long, brown robes grazed the floor, almost completely covering his sandals. As with all devotees to the gods, his head was bald, and a small, oval symbol was marked on his forehead. He answered directly to Ardontis.
The men waited for the king to be seated before sitting back down and loosening the tension in their shoulders slightly. Ardontis sat at the other end of the table, directly facing Osiris. He looked up at Ida as she filled his cup with wine, her cheeks blushing slightly at the thought of her moments earlier in his chambers. He looked away without care and took a gulp of his wine, setting the glass down in front of him and taking a deep breath. He looked to Ardontis in a manner that signaled his readiness to begin the meeting.
“Oedipus,” Ardontis spoke after clearing his throat, “tell us of your journey to recruit the untamed dragons.”
Outside the walls of dragons, and far to the north were a small range of mountains. For years, the king believed that the stories of wild, natural dragons were just that: stories. However, during a long, tiresome trip to the realm of Allenforth for the king’s daughter’s wedding, they found that these interesting, non-shifting creatures were alive and well in the Allenforth mountain pass. Once this was discovered, the king became almost obsessed with recruiting and training these creatures for his army. The King of Allenforth, Levontis, gave his blessing, laughing at the thought that anyone could get close enough to attempt to communicate, much less tame them for battle. But the king didn’t wish to tame them, just teach them, as their ferocious nature held a great benefit in the throes of war.
“It didn’t go as planned,” he said angrily. “These beasts refused to yield to reason. We are regrouping from our losses and are set to go back out in two days with a much more assertive tactic.”
War of the Realms Box Set Page 3