Chapter 1
This kingdom isn’t what it looks to be.
Venustas from the surface looks like a perfect kingdom. Filled with peace, prosperity and beautiful people.
Beautiful people... that is the backbone of our nation.
In Venustas, beauty is not just admired, it is also power. The lovelier the face, the greater your worth. And no one dares question the system, as its something believed in for centuries that it has become the norm.
Nobody fights back against the system.
Not even the ones hurt by the system.
The Ferals.
A species of creatures, or more commonly called: monsters.
Each Feral is unique, all members of their species having different looks. Some have horns resembling a ram, while others could have stone like skin and eyes that glow in the dark. Every different Feral had their own distinctive look to them.
Throughout the history of our kingdom, we have lived alongside these Ferals peacefully. The humans call this coexistence.
They call it prejudice.
Even though we walk the same streets, and breathe the same air, they are not viewed as equal. The throne and power in Venustas has always belonged to humankind. And the Feral’s must always bow. Whether they like it or not.
My husband, King Dimitri, believes this order is sacred.
I’m not so sure about that.
Still, I play my part. I smile when I must, speak when I am expected too, and... I remain silent.
Silence, I have learned, has its own way of cruelty.
But... not as cruel.. as the prince of Venustas.
My son.
Ah.
Yes. My son.
Venustas does not speak his name softly.
Immediately, the gates of the palace burst open to a roar loud enough to rival thunder.
“PRINCE CILLIAN!”
“HIS HIGHNESS!”
“JUST LOOK AT HIM!”
“HE’S MAJESTIC!”
“BEAUTIFUL!”
And they weren’t wrong.
Prince Cillian Ede-Faecam had made his entrance.
Not as a man, but as a spectacle. That was the word they always used. And of course, they weren’t wrong. It looked like my son was crafted by the goddess Aphrodite herself, with his perfect features and flawless posture. He didn’t just walk through the crowd, he owned it.
Hands would reach for him, voices calling out, desperate for some acknowledgement.
Still, the display was a littletooexcessive, I thought. He’s still human, like the rest of us. And yet just one charming remark from him would leave a group of women gasping.
Yet his despite his perfect features...
“Watch where you’re going, servant,” he said sharply, shoulder checking a passing a Feral butler without even looking back.
Even though everyone saw this, no one batted an eye. The laugher resumed like nothing happened.
It always did. Like I said, beauty is the most important thing in the kingdom. Even if you have an ice cold heart.
Not far away, a pair of Ferals stood in the crowd, one with green scaled skin, and the other Ferals being a hunchback and having razor sharp nails.
“Careful,” Cillian said to the crowd when noticing those two Ferals. It was impossible not to notice them, they stood out like sore thumbs.
“We wouldn’t want anything unpleasant ruining the view, would we?” Cillian snickered, the crowd chuckling after him. The two Ferals lowered their head, walking away.
“Your highness!”
“Over here!”
“What are you planning on for the festival!”
“Are you attending the banquet tonight?!”
Cillian laughed, thriving on the attention.
“One at a time!” he exclaimed. “One at a-”
Suddenly, all the excitement died down, and was replaced by silence. The crowd recoiled, splitting into half and gasping, revolted by the sight.
Through that empty space, a lone Feral approached.
A small one, wearing an old musty cloak filled with holes and holding a bundle of letters. It was a messenger.
“Get it away from here.”
“Disgusting freak...”
“Why would they hire... that THING!”
Although the crowd was whispering, their judgement was evident. Nobody let the Feral out of their sight, and the Feral knew this. But it chose to ignore the gaze.
Just like every Feral in Venustas.
The Feral stopped in front of the prince, bowing, offering the letters. Cillian stared angrily. For a moment, he said nothing.
And then he spoke.
“Drop it... Feral scum,” he sneered. “You could have left it with a servant. Did you truly think I would risk receiving the rot from your hands just to read a few letters?”
The Feral looked down in shame as it dropped the letters in front of the prince, before turning around and walking away. Cillian then kicked the stack of letters towards the nearest guard.
“GUARD!” he bellowed. “Fetch the letters from the ground. I have no intention of contagion myself from the touch of a... ferric.”
The crowd gasped as Cillian’s lips uttered that word.
Ferric.
The most offensive insult you could say to a Feral.
I can’t say I was very proud of my son at that moment. From the balcony above, I did not laugh, or speak.
And as my son disappeared, going back inside the palace halls, I felt it inside me.
Dread... but also hope.
Because I would eventually find out, far beyond the snobby walls of Venustas, something waited.
Something... that the kingdom has long condemned.
And I knew... soon...
My son would find her.
🖤
