Chapter 1
It’s 1786, ten years after the great dissemination. It was the year of the revelation that magical creatures lived amongst us. Integration was imminent after the peace treaty was declared. And now as a consequence of it, I’m being shipped to my new place of residence.
Ireland, the Emerald Isle, to be exact. It has rich rolling hills of lush greenery and rising coastal mountains. It is an island located in the Northern Atlantic Ocean.
It's not too far from “The Isle Of Man”, where my father reigns as King. It was a five-hour travel time on a packet ship, and I quickly grew tired of watching the water.
I retire below deck for the remainder of the trip. The four servicemen guarding me, play a game of cards as I settle in for a light nap.
I dream of him, Prince Nuada. I’ve seen him before in my visions. It is a gift passed down from my mother, the gift of sight. The ability to see the future and elemental magic from my father.
I’m still a novice at both, but I’m a dedicated learner and hope to advance to intermediate soon. This brings me to the reason why I’m being sent to Ireland. We are practitioners of magic only.
It isn’t in our blood. It's not a part of our essence. My father wants blood magic. He lusts after pure magic of the soul, magic that comes from within.
My mother’s seen it. My father will get his heir. So, this should be an easy task, right?
After an uneventful trip, I’ve freshened up and I’m standing before the King and the Princess. Elves, descendants of the Bethmora clan. They're pale in color, have scarred facial markings, and are fair-haired.
My mother would be appalled to know, that I find them attractive. Especially the one appointed as my guard. He's tall, well-built, and beautiful. Maybe I’ll take him as a lover. I offer him a charming smirk, and he bows slightly to me.
“You should be pleased to know, that we find you favorable to look upon also.” Says my protector.
“Corym’s a reader of thoughts.” States Nuala, in her soft dialect.
“Mmm...” It is all that I can manage as I make a mental note. I’ll be sure to censor my thoughts from now on.
“Nuada.”
“Father.” He says, coming into my view. My visions didn’t prepare me for the man standing before me. He offers a slight bow to the King and a nod in acknowledgment to his sister.
And then his gaze falls to me. His eyes fill with mistrust, and a fierceness that incites unease and trepidation within me.
“What’s this?”
“King Pol has offered you his daughter, as a token of his fealty to the alliance.”
“As what, my pet?”
His pet?
“Nuada!” His father exclaims in outrage at his ill manners.
“No brother, your mate.” Adds Nuala.
I'm given a murderous glare riddled with contempt, which sets me to fanning myself frantically. It seems that my corset's become too confining, and my breathing erratic.
What was I thinking? During the wars, he was known for massacring thousands. The man’s a merciless cut-throat.
“Send it back, it looks unwell.” He states, making his way out of the throne room.
“Nuada!” States the King, coming out of his seat at his son's disrespectful attitude.
“You’re the one that wants the union father. So why don't you make her your queen?
Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. I was rejected but not dejected. I take a deep breath and exhale loudly before I enter the dining area. I guess it’s the who’s who of the elfdom in attendance.
“Princess!”
It’s Corym, stopping me on the way to join Nuala.
“Where you go, I go. You can’t just wander off.”
“You do know that I’m not a child, right?”
“Of course, but not everyone agrees with the peace treaty.”
“I’m not safe here?”
“If anything happens to you, my people... other magical creatures will pay the cost with their lives. Forgive me, but your people aren’t too forgiving.”
Leading me to our seats, I consider his words. He’s right, it’s for the best.
“I understand. Will we be sharing the same bed then?” I ask jokingly.
“If that’s what you wish.”
The butterflies are having a festival in my stomach when he graces me with a small smile. I’ve never seen creatures such as these.
They're similar to us, but so different. I want to touch his skin. I wonder if they feel like us. I touch his hair instead.
He’s solemnly watching me as he lets my fingers explore his golden locks. Once again I get the urge to touch his face.
“I don’t mind.” He says quietly, which sounds loud to my ears. I become aware of the reason why. The halls become silent, and the occupant’s attentions are focused on us.
My examination ends abruptly, as I release my hold on his hair. And with amusement in his eyes, he escorts me to my seat.
