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Discover a fantasy world filled with mystery, magic and forbidden love. Fall in love with a beautiful princess, contend with a cruel captor and learn a hidden secret that may spark a war or save a kingdom.
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“The king requires your audience, princess.”
“Thank you, Harin.” Sarel smiled at her guard and got up from her desk. She certainly wasn’t complaining about having to take a break from learning Zaxan. It was a horrible language, full of rough syllables and words that practically had to be spat out to pronounce them properly.
Or maybe Sarel’s bias had something to do with her troubles. What she knew of the kingdom of Zaxa made it difficult to expect civility. Every year, the kingdom of Aelis took in dozens of Zaxan refugees, and the horror stories of what went on there—in all three of the Blood Alliance kingdoms for that matter—was enough to give Sarel nightmares.
Her father, King Trikan, no longer mandated she take lessons. That had stopped five years ago when she came of age. Most women’s education stopped at thirteen, unlike men, who stopped at fifteen. But as a royal, Sarel was under tutelage right until the day she became an adult. On her twentieth birthday, her father had thrown a huge party for her, inviting the entire Aelis court. Sarel still remembered him telling her how proud she made him.
Since then, she had been free to do whatever she pleased in the time she wasn’t helping her father. Still, Sarel liked to spend her spare time learning when she wasn’t performing duties for the kingdom.
She would be queen one day, after all. There would be times of war, famine, and sickness when she wouldn’t have time to learn, and she would thank herself for being so dedicated to her studies when she had a chance. Besides, if she could speak Zaxan, she could converse better with the Zaxan refugees and get a more accurate understanding of their needs.
Sarel smoothed her dress and wiped the dust from her hands. Her father doted on his children, but did not approve of slovenliness.
Harin followed Sarel through the halls as she walked to her father’s study. The sounds of her footsteps echoed through the corridor, making her hold her back a bit straighter. Being summoned by her father was no small occurrence, and she felt the weight of it in her bones.
She knocked and waited for him to call for her to enter.
“Father.”
“Sarel, thank you for coming. I’ve got exceptional news.”
“The treaty with Opian?” she guessed.
Trikan beamed. “That’s right. I have just received a letter from Queen Julil. We’ve worked out all the arrangements. You shall marry her second-born son, Dran.”
Sarel knew all about Prince Dran. She made a point of being familiar with the royal families of all the kingdoms, one of whom would someday rule Embre with her.
“That is wonderful news.” She tried to force some enthusiasm into her voice. It truly was wonderful news for the kingdom… it just wasn’t so for her.
Her entire life, Sarel had known she would marry for politics and not for love, and Dran truly was the best possible match. The seven kingdoms were split into the Light Alliance, consisting of Ferelia, Igril, and her own kingdoms, Aelis: and the Blood Alliance, consisting of Zaxa, Kraka and Yavir.
Opian had always remained neutral, though their mages were usually Light mages. Whichever alliance succeeded in recruiting Opian would gain their side a major advantage. Though the two alliances were no longer in open war, there was always a threat of such a war breaking out if one side thought they had the upper hand.
Sarel would marry Dran and bring peace and security to her kingdom… but she would never find love for herself. Falling in love with her betrothed mattered none in the grand scheme of a woman’s life, much less that of a princess. True love was rare, and the chances of her true love being a perfect political match were negligible.
Sarel hoped she and Dran might become good friends, but love? She’d be a fool to hope for that.
“Thank you, Harin.” Sarel smiled at her guard and got up from her desk. She certainly wasn’t complaining about having to take a break from learning Zaxan. It was a horrible language, full of rough syllables and words that practically had to be spat out to pronounce them properly.
Or maybe Sarel’s bias had something to do with her troubles. What she knew of the kingdom of Zaxa made it difficult to expect civility. Every year, the kingdom of Aelis took in dozens of Zaxan refugees, and the horror stories of what went on there—in all three of the Blood Alliance kingdoms for that matter—was enough to give Sarel nightmares.
Her father, King Trikan, no longer mandated she take lessons. That had stopped five years ago when she came of age. Most women’s education stopped at thirteen, unlike men, who stopped at fifteen. But as a royal, Sarel was under tutelage right until the day she became an adult. On her twentieth birthday, her father had thrown a huge party for her, inviting the entire Aelis court. Sarel still remembered him telling her how proud she made him.
Since then, she had been free to do whatever she pleased in the time she wasn’t helping her father. Still, Sarel liked to spend her spare time learning when she wasn’t performing duties for the kingdom.
She would be queen one day, after all. There would be times of war, famine, and sickness when she wouldn’t have time to learn, and she would thank herself for being so dedicated to her studies when she had a chance. Besides, if she could speak Zaxan, she could converse better with the Zaxan refugees and get a more accurate understanding of their needs.
Sarel smoothed her dress and wiped the dust from her hands. Her father doted on his children, but did not approve of slovenliness.
Harin followed Sarel through the halls as she walked to her father’s study. The sounds of her footsteps echoed through the corridor, making her hold her back a bit straighter. Being summoned by her father was no small occurrence, and she felt the weight of it in her bones.
She knocked and waited for him to call for her to enter.
“Father.”
“Sarel, thank you for coming. I’ve got exceptional news.”
“The treaty with Opian?” she guessed.
Trikan beamed. “That’s right. I have just received a letter from Queen Julil. We’ve worked out all the arrangements. You shall marry her second-born son, Dran.”
Sarel knew all about Prince Dran. She made a point of being familiar with the royal families of all the kingdoms, one of whom would someday rule Embre with her.
“That is wonderful news.” She tried to force some enthusiasm into her voice. It truly was wonderful news for the kingdom… it just wasn’t so for her.
Her entire life, Sarel had known she would marry for politics and not for love, and Dran truly was the best possible match. The seven kingdoms were split into the Light Alliance, consisting of Ferelia, Igril, and her own kingdoms, Aelis: and the Blood Alliance, consisting of Zaxa, Kraka and Yavir.
Opian had always remained neutral, though their mages were usually Light mages. Whichever alliance succeeded in recruiting Opian would gain their side a major advantage. Though the two alliances were no longer in open war, there was always a threat of such a war breaking out if one side thought they had the upper hand.
Sarel would marry Dran and bring peace and security to her kingdom… but she would never find love for herself. Falling in love with her betrothed mattered none in the grand scheme of a woman’s life, much less that of a princess. True love was rare, and the chances of her true love being a perfect political match were negligible.
Sarel hoped she and Dran might become good friends, but love? She’d be a fool to hope for that.
