Chapter One: A Dark Celebration
The silence amazed her most.
Surrounding her like a blanket, it covered miles and miles with nothing but a whisper in the trees.
She exhaled, watching her small puff of breath on the crisp air drift slowly expand and drift over the cliff and away to the mountains beyond. The sun was dipping behind the peaks, giving a final wink of light to the meadows below, signaling the beginning of another frigid night.
Please don’t set. Your next sunrise brings nothing but pain.
She shuddered as the thought crossed her mind, drawing her hergault tighter around her shoulders. She stared down into the folds of fabric gathered in bunches around her frame. Yards and yards of shimmering blue satin constructed into a gown designed for a princess with the purpose of clothing the receiver in joy as she makes the most important walk of her life. To her, however, the gown was an enemy; an executioner of sorts that led her to the gallows of her demise and now sat with her in the final moments before the end arrived.
The scene from mere hours before came alive once more on the background of her gown. The wedding had been nothing short of incredible; a dazzling spectacle of love, happiness, and the promise of future stability for the crown and kingdom. Or at least that was what the people of Askonia were led to believe. The reality of the situation could never be told. No citizen was ever to know how close the monarchy had come to ruin; how without this marriage, the nation would have fallen into the hands of foreign invaders and been reduced to ash in the process.
No. For all they know, their beloved homeland is secure for another lifetime, and with the promise of heirs begat by the new rulers, it will remain secure for their children as well. The people were given the illusion of a loving couple, happily married, and excited about their lives together. And that’s the way it must stay.
She lifted her head as a sharp east wind cut across her face, bringing her current surroundings back into focus. Here, there was nothing left to use for the façade. No need to mask her true feelings for the man she had married, or the need to maintain a smile for the people. Here she was well and truly alone.
And she relished it.
Staring out across the vast expanse of mountains and meadows, feeling the greatness of their size and the freedom of their space, she could conceal her sorrow no more. Tears slipped from her eyes and stuck to her face as they met the frosty air. She gently reached a hand up to dry them and watched as the final slivers of light disappeared with the sunset behind the mountains. Those slivers took with them the light of the day, and any glimmer of hope from within her heart.
Mindful of the time, she slowly rose, her gown falling in around her feet as she made her way into the deep woods behind the cliff. The dry leaves cracked beneath her feet, their naked counterparts swaying overhead in a menacing dance.
I wish you would reach out and snatch me away; it would be better to have been lost in the woods than to finish the journey home and face what’s waiting for me.
She sighed sadly as she emerged from the dark woods and found her beautiful mount waiting patiently. Leaning against his soft neck for strength, she ran her fingers through his warm coat remembering all of the journeys they had taken together. He had been a source of stability in her life, delivering her home from each and every adventure.
“How I wish this was one journey we never had to make.”
He lowered his head and offered a nicker in reply.
“I knew you’d understand, you always have my handsome Mist..” Placing a kiss on his forelock, she strode to his side and mounted as gracefully as a seasoned hunter. They rode at a lope through the clearing and across the miles of winter crusted meadows that separated the mountains from the village beyond. Only when her horse stopped did she allow herself to accept the familiar yet monstrous stone-gray walls of the palace.
Home.
She slid from his back and withdrew a key, inserting it into the rusted lock upon the iron gate. With a click it opened, and they slipped silently through the walls into the warmth of the stables.
The smell of fresh cut hay brought a sense of comfort to her weary soul. This had always been her favorite place as a child. She loved the animals, and the time they had given her with her father. This was the only place he felt free from the constant pressures of the crown. This was where he taught her how to ride, giving her perhaps the greatest gift a member of the royal family could ever possess—freedom.
She lifted the latch on the stall door, and it creaked loudly on its hinges as it swung open to welcome them. Once Mist was comfortably inside, she picked up an old bristle brush and began to work it through his coat.
She smiled at the memory of her father’s face when they had shared this task together. Whenever they groomed, there was something so serene about his expression. His peace was often stolen by the very people he fought so hard to protect and provide for within the nation’s borders. There were few memories of his face filled with joy and laughter, or times when his brow was not furrowed in concern or distress. The horses were his escape, and he loved the freedom the animals gave him, even if only for a moment.
On rare occasions such as this, stressful and concerning times, she would run away unannounced. Riding her horse to the same clearing in the mountains, spending hours watching the world of nature going about their daily tasks in peace. Upon her return, she was frequently greeted with disdainful glances and harsh critique, but this did not dissuade her. Riding alone brought her closer to her father, and no matter what anyone had ever said to her, she continued to find ways to do that.
But for the first time in my life, I may never get the chance to do this again. In fact, there might never be another night like this where that place of peace is mine.
In a matter of moments her feet would carry her away from the barn and into a dark and uncertain future. A future where she saw no peace, no love, no freedom.
“I was worried about you,” the voice was warm and kind, familiar in all the right ways.
She turned to find him resting lightly against the wall across the aisle from the stall. His broad arms folded across his chest as he strode towards her.
“Callan. I needed some time to collect my thoughts, and when I realized the time, the evening had already faded away. I apologize for worrying you,” she ran the brush through a final clump of mud in Mi
st’s mane, and returned the brush to its holder.
Callan opened the stall door for her and she felt his fingers lightly close around her arm to stop her forward progress, “You’ve been crying. I wish you had let me come. Not as your protection, but as someone who cares about you a great deal.”
She smiled into his soft brown eyes–eyes that knew her, had been with her through every part of the past few months, “I know you care, but it had to be me. Just me. I hope you understand.”
He nodded in reply and released her arm, “If I’m honest, part of me wishes you had stayed away. They have all gathered in the great hall for the night’s ceremonies, and I wish I could spare you from it.”
A chill raced down her spine at the thought of having to return; her brief respite was coming to an end and with it any sense of calm she had managed to acquire in the last few hours. Her hands felt clammy and her stomach began to tumble in anxiousness. For it wasn’t the throngs of people she dreaded, nor was it the traditional ceremonies that ended a royal wedding celebration.
She dreaded having to return to the man she had wed.
“Alania, you’re trembling,” his hand found her shoulder.
“I’m frightened,” her voice came out breathless.
He wrapped his arms around her in a protective embrace, and when he spoke there was a tremble in his voice that told of his deep desire to spare her from what was to come, “If there was any way I could save you from this, I would give my life for it.”
Her trembling eased as his care warmed her heart. She gazed into his watery eyes, “And I would rather you keep your life and stay at my side.”
His expression communicated his displeasure, but he offered his arm as they made their way back inside the castle.
She clung to him as if her very life depended on it, and in many ways it did.
Without you, this next chapter of her life may very well be the death of us all.