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THE BEGINNING
O
ne cold dreary night, a wild wind blew as Alzerion stood peering out the arched window, squinting. He studied that storm-grey expanse, like ink spilled across the sky. Only a few pockets of light were able to escape. The clouds kept shifting—moving—roaming. They loomed above the palace beckoning the townspeople to come. He looked down at his fists, clenched. Would she be coming in this muck? He took a slow breath, steadying himself. The king did say she was invited. Could she face him? His cinnamon-red eyes stared out, again. It had been a few years since he saw his mother. No, since she left him here tobetter himself.That was what she called it. He shook his head. Fighting back the pricking he felt in his eyes.BreatheAlzerion. Focus on tonight’s event.
It’s not the night for this, he thought. The townspeople will have to walk in this storm. He knew that the people of Bachusa were some of the most loyal, and that they would come. In his mind he was thinking, calculating, was there another way? No, there were no options. The event was too important. He personally helped the queen plan each detail, down to the guest list. It had to be tonight. His lips curled up in a thin, sly smirk. Nobody would miss this. This would be seen as the event of the year.
Alzerion turned his head enough to see the maids and servants rushing around, speaking with the king and queen. He knew they wanted today to go perfectly. He hoped it would, too, for Aironell. Alzerion glanced down at the light pink basinet. He smiled at the little princess, as he rubbed his fingers against the white lace trimming of the basinet. This event was for her. To show off Bachusa’s bright new hope! She laid there so tiny. Snoozing.Please let today go well, he pleaded. No hiccups or altercations. He knew what was being said in town.
The wind howled. He focused his attention back out the window. He watched as the wind picked up. In the distance the townspeople looked like tiny specks. They were still trudging toward the palace. Alzerion glanced down as lightening stabbed the sky followed by a loud boom. He quickly turned,phew, the princess was still asleep. Blissfully unaware. He licked his lips and then from the window he looked back down at the palace. The palace stood majestic even in the storm. It was an enormous gray structure with stones that appeared dark and imposing. It was a fortress. A safe haven for the princess. How lucky. Nobody wronged her. To start fresh, would be something.
Alzerion crouched forward looking as if he were hunched a bit. “Don’t worry, little one, nobody will. Not if I can help it.” He spoke in hushed tones. Forcing himself to release the tension rising in every muscle in his body.
He stood back up and craned his neck up to see the colossal tower that loomed above. He remembered doing some of his tutoring sessions up there, when he was younger. Then he heard a creaking sound. It was the mahogany doors to the entrance.Finally. His cinnamon-red eyes surveyed the entrance and watched as the doors opened revealing the family crest; a fleur-de-lis inside a crown. People.
Anything to keep his thoughts at bay. He could sense them, no, feel them festering. Alzerion moved. He grabbed the edge of the basinet and slid it as he strolled away from the window toward the thrones. He took his position and placed the basinet near him, like instructed.
The Great Hall was perfect for this. It was a huge room with crystal and gold chandeliers, and at the far end of the room, up front against a stone wall with an arched window in the center, were King Francisco and Queen Evalyn’s thrones. They were made of old, dark cherry. Alzerion rubbed his hands against the delicate damask design that encircled the fleur-de-lis. Then he patted the red velvet seat cushions. He turned. Watching and waiting as the townspeople funneled in. The room was packed. He smiled and nodded as people locked eyes with him. Nobody dared come that close to him, by the thrones, but he watched as they mingled. Despite the travel, he witnessed pleasant chatter. Nobody looked worse for wear. He kept his distance.
His eyes continued to scan the Great Hall. His face tightened. Eyebrows pulled in as he saw her in the crowd. Part of him wanted to smile—to run and hug her. His lips started to part but then stopped. He bit down on his lower lip, hard. He felt the sharpness poking into his skin. A rush of mixed emotions flooded. Like he was being pelted by a hundred jabs of the thick wooden swords they used for training. She looked the same, yet different. Her cheeks looked fuller but her eyes had a slight hollowness to them. Could it be guilt? He shouldn’t hope. At leasthewasn’t here, with her. Her eyes met his. He forced a tight smile. He couldn’t do otherwise. He was on display, just as much as the royal family. It may have been the princess that everyone wanted to see, but he, too, had to look the part. Had to seem cheery. He steadied his breathing to block out the memories.Those horrible fights. Voices that shook his very core. Nights that felt like the dawn would never come. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair and continued to smile.
He saw the king and queen meander through the large group as they made their way to their thrones. The king’s dark curly hair frothed over his crown. He stood tall compared to people he passed. The queen’s silver butterfly clip sparkled ruby red as she strolled forward. Once the king and queen were up front all eyes followed them.Whew. He had a brief pause. A short amount of time that he didn’t have to pretend.
The king and queen were beaming. The king looked regal in his long black doublet. Elegant gold trimming ran down his sleeves. The queen perhaps was the only one that rivaled him in appearance. From that clip sparkling in her dirty-blonde hair to her deep red velvet gown with flecks of gold. Once it was silent King Francisco turned to Alzerion and nodded.
Alzerion bent over the light pink basinet. He kept that fake smile plastered on his face. Everyone saw her. The princess, who was long awaited, was cradled in his arms. He held her up for a better view. This is what he was here for.No matter the cost. He already paid the price. Plucked from his home and sent here. Three years of tutors, etiquette classes, and military training.He gazed down at the princess. She was snuggled in her light pink blanket with red roses embroidered over it.
As Alzerion looked at her little face with those delicate features, the princess opened her sparkly cerulean blue eyes and looked out. Instead of crying, she moved her lips into the cutest curve, while she held a silver rattle. The townspeople smiled, clapped, and cheered for the princess. The king raised his muscular arms, and some of the chatter died down.
Then the king said in his deep voice, “Alzerion will be the Royal Watcher for Princess Aironell.” Alzerion bowed his head as the king spoke.
The crowds boomed. The loudness brought back those troubling thoughts. He focused on the room, so he wouldn’t wince—wouldn’t drop the princess. He looked up to see his mother. He finally gave her a smirk. Her eyes teared up, practically radiated with warmth. A slight mix of regret lingered, though. He knew that she was proud of his accomplishments— knew she loved him, despite sending him away. The king told him so. The king promised they would treat him like one of their own.
He remembered that day. His tutor was sick, so the king filled in. He was in no mood for lessons and the king set him straight. Told him that his mother was not the bad guy. One day he would understand. That was the day the king gave him the necklace. Alzerion held the necklace, now, in his right hand. It was a gift to him from his mother. Alzerion pulled it out of his pocket and held it up. He made sure to maintain a firm grip on the princess with the other hand.
The heart-shaped necklace twirled about as he held it by the chain. It was so radiant that it sparkled in the light. The necklace was called the Lost Hope, and it was his gift to the princess. There was such an applause. There was a lot of oohs and awes as he put it on Aironell. Once this was done, he walked toward the queen and placed Aironell in her arms before stepping off to the side. Then the king and queen moved forward and held Aironell up and out for all to see once more. The applause and pleasant chatter rebounded across the hall.
Alzerion smiled wide. He did love his mother. It would take time to mend, but he vowed he would. After all, it wasn’t her. It washim. Alzerion vowed he would be better. It was what she wanted. He would be different than those ties that bound him, tight. Like he was being constricted, slowly, day after day. One wrong move and it would all go to crap. He knew what to do. Study. Work hard. Train. Now, he can add, take care of the princess. Someday things would be different, they had to.
* * *
Not all were thrilled about the birth of the princess. Outside of the palace someone stood not joining in the festivities. He couldn’t believe how the townspeople just welcomed this baby. Did they forget all that Bachusa had been through? He stood at a distance wrapped in his dark black cloak, with a scowl plastered across his mouth. They’d pay—one way or another— the royal family would suffer. For now, that would have to be enough.
THE SEARCH
I
nside the safety of the Family Room stood Queen Evalyn and King Francisco. King Francisco patted Queen Evalyn’s back as they stood inches from the garnet fleur-de-lis shaped table. He pressed his leg against it as he continued listening to his wife.
“What are we going to do?” Evalyn asked as she broke away and paced, her cerulean blue eyes regarding the room as her fingers twisted around one another like a pretzel stick.
She spied her comfort spot, and slowly paced toward the bay window. She pushed the blush-colored curtains to the side and fiddled with the deep blue oval necklace around the square neckline of her dress. Then she peered out the chiseled bay window.
“What are we going to do about what, dearest?” replied Francisco. The scraping of his boots against the floorboards, mingled in her thoughts.
Evalyn smoothed her dress as she sat on the plush seat-bench of the bay window. Her gaze shifted between her husband and staring off in the distance.
“What are we going to do about Aironell? It’s getting too risky to have her out and about in the town, with all these attempts on her life. It has been tough since her birth,” she mustered. Nails dug into the twisted grooves of the design at the base of the window. The queen, occasionally, glanced over at her husband.
