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I didn’t have a self-esteem issue. In fact, I was a very confident woman. And yet, when I thought of how much our country had to gain in exchange for my hand in marriage, I felt very inadequate. I just hoped King Cyrus was pleased with his gift.
The road from Dreslen’s capital to Osavian was dull and deserted. Only tradesmen came through these routes. There were no villages to break up the monotonous scenery. It was far too dry and hot for anyone to survive in this part of the kingdom. We only made stops when my mother was about to be sick or when one of us needed to relieve our bladders.
Another reason I hated this dress. Hiking up the long skirt and hovering behind the cart was not an easy task.
The sky darkened after hours of tense silence and weary sighs from my mother. I thanked the gods above that she didn’t vomit in this carriage. We slowed down as we reached the border between Dreslen and Osavian. There was a small outpost where two guards strode out to meet our driver. They exchanged a few words and not long after, our carriage began to roll again.
I looked out the window. It was mostly dark now but, in the distance, I could see light. A sign that we were getting close to Osavian’s capital city of Renoa.
We crossed over a one lane bridge and my father had to pull me back from the open window.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“You were about to fall out.”
I shook my head and leaned out the window again, this time with more caution. There was a flowing river below and I counted four baby swans with their mother floating downstream. I recognized them from one of the books I’d been forced to study when I was young. One that listed all variants of fowl and other creatures native to the Lourova.
Another thing that I wouldn’t miss about Dreslen. Aside from our horses that were imported, small lizards and insects were the only wildlife that existed. Neither of which I was fond of.
Our carriage came to a halt along the outer wall of the seaside castle. A man in a light beige cloak opened the carriage door and smiled in greeting.
“Welcome. The Royal family is eager to see you. Allow me to escort you. My men will bring your luggage inside.” He waved a hand at what I assumed was the second carriage behind us, where his men were working to unpack my belongings.
The moment I stepped out, I was instantly greeted with the fresh breeze off the water and the busy noise of a vibrant city. Everywhere I looked, there were people in beautiful, elegant gowns with smiles plastered on their faces. Music poured out of the building across the street, and I could smell something sweet and fruity in the air. A woman waved at her friends as she ran across the street to meet them. Another man laughed at something his partner just said. It might’ve been late, but the residents of Renoa were still wide awake and full of energy.
My senses were overwhelmed and before I could take it all in, my parents pushed me through a large archway and into the gardens that led up to the castle entry.
It was every bit as magnificent as I imagined. The gardens in Renoa were nothing like ours back home. Ours were dry and brown, hanging on by a thread, but these were lush and full of color. Bright and beautiful pinks, yellow and oranges. The floral scent hung in the air and infiltrated my lungs, coursing through my veins.
And the castle was a level of extravagance I’d never known. Vines traveled from the ground up to the second and third levels, weaving their way between windows and balconies where warm light poured out. The castle was made of light sandstone, but the vines were like veins that pulsed in the colossal building, giving it a life of its own.
We reached the front steps and four people were there to greet us, standing still and regal.
I took a deep breath.
No looking back now.
Chapter Two
Emilie
“Welcome,” the man in the center said. He was tall with light blonde hair and looked to be twice my age, judging by the wrinkles on his face and the subtle gray hairs dispersed throughout his beard. He wore dark slacks with an elegant blazer covered in golden decals. I’d bet my best gown that he was Cyrus. I tried not to stare at my future husband, only letting my eyes linger for an acceptable amount of time.
On his right was another man. He was large, even taller than Cyrus, and at least twice as wide. His huge muscles were covered in lightweight armor. Protective but practical. The belt strapped to his waist was fitted with numerous daggers and a sword, and he kept a casual hand on the hilt. While Cyrus looked pleased to see us, this man looked absolutely uninterested. In fact, I’m not sure he was even looking at us, but beyond us. Waiting for an unknown threat to present itself.
It seemed unlikely to me.
A third man was on Cyrus’s other side. He looked younger, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. He was of a similar build to Cyrus but his hair was so light; it was practically white. Actually, in the moonlight, it was more silver. No one had told me that Cyrus had siblings, but I would’ve guessed that this man was his brother.
And finally, at the end, stood a petite woman. She kept her distinguished blonde hair neatly pulled back into a tight bun, adding to her polished appearance. Her long gown was a midnight blue that contrasted with her pale skin. She was old enough to be Cyrus’s mother, but there was a youthful curiosity in her eyes as she looked us over.
“Cyrus.” My father stepped out of line. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Although my mother and I rarely visited Osavian, my father came here frequently to discuss business. He closed in on Cyrus and the large man next to the king didn’t move to stop him. Either he wasn’t a very good bodyguard or he trusted my father enough to let him get close to the king. My father and Cyrus embraced and exchanged a cordial handshake.
“It’s good to see you again, Misha. And Nadine. It’s been too long.” Cyrus wrapped my mother in a hug and she returned the gesture.
“Thank you for inviting us, Cyrus. You remember my daughter, Emilie,” she said with a wave in my direction.
