Chapter 1: Uninvited Guest
The grand hall buzzed with the sound of voices and music as gentle summer winds threatened the candles lining the walls; I crossed the room, giving small curtsies or smiles to neighboring nobility as I stepped out on the balcony overlooking the lower city. Small glows of lights in the street gave a warm welcome, as laughter from bars and homes rang in the air; the idea of leaving my party felt so right but so wrong, my father would truly not be pleased if I did, he however understands I am not one for lavish parties such as this.
“Lyra Novach. This is your 24th birthday, and you are still unmarried. Neighbouring kings and queens worry that you are unfit to rule” Father’s words rang in my mind, and I grip the balcony railing till my knuckles turn white; what did they know… not everyone needs to be married to rule a kingdom. My people would listen to my order with or without a king overshadowing me, but the other kingdoms refuse to take me seriously without a husband; a low chuckle escapes my throat as a voice behind causes a startle.
“Well Princess Lyra, didn’t take you to watch peasant struggle. Instead of watching them, perhaps I can steal your attention away… maybe for a dance?” A prideful smile spread across his lips as he extended a gloved hand, prince of Formorouge; Damian Trelion. Handsome? Yes. A gentle man? Far from it. He claimed that fate had arranged our meeting. Father believes he is my ideal match, as we were of the same age, born only weeks apart, like he and mother were.
“Damian, didn’t expect you to show up tonight. Did your little rich minx get rid of you or did you slip out of her room in the dead of night after she confessed her everlasting devotion like the last 12?” I sneered with a forced smile, shoving past him when he suddenly wrapped his arm around my waist violently keeping me in place as his hot breath brushed against my neck. "You know, no one will want you with a tongue like that, princess. I’d hate to see your conniving old man pass without his precious flower, being looked after; one day, you will be mine, Lyra” he threatened venomously as he shoved me aside and vanished into the crowd.
As the stars swallowed the deep blue sky, I slipped a knife from the table of finger foods and cheese as I headed to a hidden staircase for an exit only those who explored the castle knew of. The sounds of clothing being torn rippled through the staircase as I descended, the knife cutting open the ridiculous blossom pink gown exposing my chest as nova purple and black riding gear loosely hung off my shoulders. Pushing the small wooden door open at the end of the stairs, I sharply inhaled the warm summer air, as I took off the uncomfortable silver heels. Replacing them with my black riding boots and buttoning my tunic up; its tight fit adorned all dips and curves.
The stables remained still as I led a deep chestnut horse out; I climbed onto Chestin’s back and pressed into him as he started into a trot. Unknowingly, a figure stood on the balcony watching me disappear into the shadows of night; what better time to carry out their plan without the observant princess watching every move anyone made and leaving everyone in that hall exposed.
After some time, Chestin and I stopped at a pond; he lowered his head to drink, and I submerged my head in the water, turning my bright gold curls to a deep brown and then pulled it back into a tight braid. I cleaned off the cake of makeup from my face; as water dripped down my chin, I grabbed Chestin’s reins and led him to an empty stable. There was a cold firepit just outside the stable doors; whoever lit it was long gone; I dragged my fingers through the soot and used it as makeshift eyeshadow. The town’s lights blinded me as I snuck into the lively streets, while weaving in between houses, two large pairs of hands grabbed at my arm and the nape of my neck.
The two men’s laughter reeked of alcohol and cheap cigars; as their hands traced around my body. One of their hands silenced my scream as fast as it broke from my throat, and tears slowly threatened to spill; I attempted to struggle as my mind raced of the idea of standing in my room with my dear friend Nora when the sound of heavy boots hit the stone pavement with an echoing thud. Looking toward the sound, I observed the silver glint of a blade and then, in the blink of an eye, blood squirted onto my hair as the sounds of gurgles and the feeling of freedom pulled me back to reality.
