"And the treaty signed after the War of Ages prompted the creation of the Council of Anakron. The Council consists of all the rulers across the four continents and the islands scattered around the world. They meet twice a year, and the host city rotates on a—" I was interrupted by a loud snore from the sleeping Master McDougal. I sighed, thinking to myself that this is what I negotiated away my free will for when I pleaded with Clara to let me have my lesson with the master.
He was seated at the head of the table while I sat just to his right. I leaned over in my chair and poked the sleeping master, saying, "Uhm, excuse me, Master McDougal." He kept on snoring loudly. Sighing again, I sat back in my chair and decided to do something a bit more drastic. I grabbed the heaviest book on the table, titled Our Gods in One - A Book about All Above. I proceeded to stand up on my chair, book in hand, and drop it right next to the sleeping Master. It hit the floor with a loud thud, and I plopped back down in my chair, waiting for him to rouse. He stopped snoring for a moment and roused slowly, rubbing his eyes with his wrinkly hands and letting out a long yawn. He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, finally landing on me. "Oh dear! Gods, did I do it again, Princess?" he asked, startled by my staring face.
I sighed and gestured to the large volume on the floor. "Yes, Master McDougal. I had to use the book again." I leaned over in my chair to scoop up the book as he shook his head disapprovingly at himself. "Oh dearie, I apologize. Please forgive me. You know how I can be sometimes. Now, where were we?"
I shook my head and chuckled. "Of course, Master. I was going over my report on the treaties that ended the War of Ages. I was on the Treaty of All Lands, explaining the Council of—" He interrupted me, "Ah yes, I apologize again, Princess. Please do not take it as a reflection on you or your work. I'm sure your report is excellent as all your other work is. Let’s move on to our next topic of study. I’ll have Sylvan review the report." He moved to grab the leather-bound notebook that I used for my writing and tore off the pages containing my report.
I cringed at the movement, wishing he would’ve just had Sylvan cast a transcription spell. He hastily folded the pages and stuffed them in a pocket within his robe. "Okay now, Clara has requested that I brief you on your lunch today with your father and the Duke of... oh yes, Avanelle, Duke Charles Sinclair. And his legitimized bastard son, Isaac Sinclair." I groaned internally. Fantastic. Two men here to inspect the prized mare up for sale.
I crossed my arms and stared blankly at the Master, waiting for him to continue. "As you know, Avanelle is situated in the middle of the Southern Dukedoms, with Elusia to the west and Medridria to its east. In recent years, they have become quite close allies of ours, so maintaining good relations with them is of utmost importance to the king."
Ah yes, we came to Avanelle’s rescue after a border dispute with Medridria turned deadly, with Avanelle claiming an island off the coast of its small southern peninsula, one that Medridria had claimed for years before. "We came to their aid a few years ago, correct? Backing them up in a border dispute where Avanelle disputed an island in the South, near the border of Avanelle and Medridria, claiming that the small island was a part of Avanelle and always has been."
"That is correct, Princess. What a keen memory you have. You’ve always been my best student for that reason. Not even your older brother, gods help us, could recall the specifics of that unfortunate incident," he said, smiling at me. The comment about my brother prompted a small laugh from me. "I’m sure you can deduce the purpose of today’s lunch. The master of spies tells me that not much is known of his bastard son aside from his name, Isaac."
"What prompted Sinclair to legitimize a bastard? Did his wife not bear him any children?" I asked, shifting in my chair.
"Ah yes, the Duchess Lidia Sinclair. She bore him children, alright. I believe nine children, all girls. She passed just over two years ago giving birth to their tenth, who would’ve been his only legitimate son had he not passed with his mother. May Erebus let them rest," he said, clasping his hands together and shaking his head, presumably at the thought of the Duke’s poor wife being nothing better than breeding stock to the Duke. "The Duke was out of options, being in his elder years, and sent out a full-scale manhunt for any bastards he may possess. He was not known to be a faithful husband to his wife. Among others, the manhunt resulted in Isaac being brought to the capital, Avenport, and legitimized as his son."
"Master, you said 'others.' Exactly how many bastard children did the Duke’s men find?" I asked.
He responded, "We aren’t certain of the exact number, but we do know that his men found another son, similar in age to Isaac. Cassius is his name, I believe, and he was brought to the palace at the same time as Isaac. Whether or not he legitimized him is not known, but what is known is that they are similar in age, with Isaac being older by only a few months."
"Well, what did he do with Cassius? Did the king have him killed?" I questioned.
"No, Princess. If you think about it, it’s not wise to kill off a potential heir. If I’m not mistaken, he keeps Cassius on a tight leash. It’s rumored that he is not a fan of the Duke, but there are no confirmed reports of hostility—just hearsay."
"Yes, of course. That makes perfect sense," I responded with a nod of my head. "Is anything known of either of their backgrounds? What of their mothers?" I questioned.
"Well, it seems the Duke has kept Isaac’s background quiet for whatever reason. It’s probably scandalous in nature. As for Cassius' background, our spymaster informed me that his mother was a servant in the Duke’s household. Once she fell pregnant, she fled south to the small island off the southern peninsula. There she raised him until her death a couple of years ago."
"Do you know the character of these men? I presume that the Duke is just a delight," I asked, sarcasm lacing my last words.
The Master let out a breathy laugh. "The Duke is a man who desires much and will act ruthlessly to get what he wants. Little is known of his two sons, but—" A knock sounded at the door, cutting him off, and Master McDougal shouted, "Come in."
Clara entered and said, "Master McDougal, thank you so much for making time in your busy schedule for the Princess, but she must be getting ready."
He smiled brightly at my lady-in-waiting and stood up. "Miss Clara! The pleasure is always mine." He turned to me and said, "Dominica, I know Ser Orion, Miss Clara, and I have taught you well, so keep a keen eye out. I wish you luck with seeing your father, and I hope you have a joyous celebration tonight."
I bowed my head in thanks and said, "Thank you, Master McDougal. Will you not be in attendance tonight?"
He began to gather some books he had brought with him. "Unfortunately, I will not be. I must prepare for my journey south. I’ll be joining the young Lord Rincon on his journey to Toncia. My presence is required, so I will be joining him when he leaves at dawn."
I nodded, standing as he made his way to the door, which Clara was holding open for him. They quickly exchanged glances containing emotions I could not decipher, and he quickly said, "Thank you, Princess." He exited the door, which Clara swiftly closed.
"Alright, Dominica. We must begin your preparations at once. I already have Ria drawing you a bath. Leave your things here, and I’ll have Lucia come and collect them. We mustn’t waste any time."
She made her way over to me, rounding the pianoforte that stood between the door and the breakfast table turned study-nook, cluttered with my half-eaten breakfast, books, journals, and writing utensils. "Clara, what was that look you and Master McDougal exchanged?" I asked, grabbing my leather satchel and stuffing my journal and quills into it.
Clara reached my side and ushered me towards the door, saying, "It was nothing, Dominica. Did he have the opportunity to discuss the Duke and his son? And what to expect from today’s lunch?"
We reached the door opposite to the one Clara had entered through, which connected to a small hallway with the door to my bedchamber on the opposite side. The late morning light streamed through the window, casting the hallway in soft golden hues. "Yes, Clara. We discussed it in depth," I said, walking ahead of Clara, past the small table with a large bouquet of white lilies sitting atop it.
I reached the door to my bedchamber when I heard Clara’s footsteps stop. "Dominica, you must tread carefully around these men. You know how your father is. Your mother shielded it from you and your siblings when you were younger, and we have worked hard to limit his effects after your mother's disappearance," she said from behind me.
I paused before my door, my hand resting on the handle. I felt a well of emotion rise up at the mention of my mother, all she shielded my siblings and me from, and her disappearance all those years ago. Gods, I wish she were here right now, but now is not the time for wishing or hoping. My mind immediately went to a memory mere weeks after my mother’s disappearance. My siblings, Clara, Nadia, and I had just arrived in Riverholm after saying goodbye to Astoria. After my mother’s disappearance, my father ordered us to move to the capital, to Riverholm Palace.
The Palace is situated along the banks of the Apres River, with towering spires of dark gray stone. The Palace is expansive, almost a city within a city, with manicured gardens, vast hunting grounds, and beautiful terraces and courtyards that overlook the bustling city situated along the winding river.
All of us, drenched and muddied after traveling in the rain, had just entered the reception hall when we stumbled across my father. He was standing with a man I did not recognize. When we came in, his eyes went wide with alarm at our condition. Arion bowed deeply while Clara, Nadia, and I all curtsied. Poor Lucas, having just turned three a couple of months prior, still not wholly familiar with royal procedure, did not immediately spot my father. He did not understand what Clara was asking of him and why. As soon as he saw my father, he broke out of Clara’s grip and ran up to him, giving him a hug, still not knowing the extent of my father’s cruelty. Lucas, being all wet and muddy, got my father’s pristine gray trousers and white tunic dirty. My father was enraged and hauled Lucas off of him, smacking him across the face with such force that it knocked my brother to the ground, his head hitting the floor with a loud crack.
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My brother was unconscious for two days. I can still recall his tiny body, eerily motionless on the ground. Clara flinched as Father raised his hand to discipline her, but Nadia stepped forward, her voice steady and resolute. “It was my fault, Your Majesty. As the elder nursemaid, Clara's actions are my responsibility.” Father's eyes narrowed, but he lowered his hand, turning his rage on Nadia instead. For this, he both beat Nadia and sent her back to Valinor. We haven’t heard from her since.
Still facing the door, I said, “I know, Clara, believe me, I know.”
-
Ria let me have a moment's peace to myself in the large clawfoot tub set in the corner of my bathing chamber. The water was warm and milky white due to the various soaps and essential oils Ria used, which, from what I could smell, included jasmine and sandalwood. I turned my head to gaze out the window to my left. My suite overlooked the Northern Garden with winding paths of riverstone, seating areas situated in shady spots sprinkled throughout the garden, and flower beds of crocuses, roses, and lilies. The beauty of Riverholm Palace starkly contrasted the twisted man who resided within and ruled from it.
When I was younger, maybe around four or five years of age, I didn’t understand why my mother kept us away from Riverholm, kept us in the North at our family home in Astoria when the palace was so beautiful, with its manicured grounds, bustling city, and warmer weather. Astoria, on the other hand, is situated in the depths of the forest that covers the Northern peninsula that juts out to form Twinhorn Bay, named for the curving shape of the peninsulas that encircle it. There was no bustling city, just a small town of under 500—most of whom worked to maintain the grand castle of our family estate. Plus, with it being situated so far North and removed from the coast, it was cold for most of the year. During the summer, when the weather cooperated, Astoria was nice, pretty even during the peak of summer. On those precious few days where the sun was shining and the water wasn’t frigid, we’d make the hour-long journey west to Lake Sardosa. In the colder months, there were days where we wouldn’t be allowed to go outside for days, even weeks on end, due to harsh snowstorms.
As the years passed, the sting of my father's cold remarks and the bruises from his punishments made me cherish the memories of Astoria even more. I began to understand why Mother had shielded us from Riverholm, her gentle hands protecting us from the harshness that lurked in every corner. I grew to love Astoria, embracing the harsh winters because they meant sitting in the great room of my mother’s suite, sipping hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg, and a hint of dried chili from Aralla. Arion and I would huddle together under warm furs as our mother told us stories. Some were of her homeland, Valinor, and her many siblings, while others were tales of the Gods and their legendary deeds.
As a child, my favorite story was that of Eos, God of twilight and transition, and Nyx, Goddess of night, the moon, and dreams. Their story was one of love and devotion. Eos is the son of Erebus, God of death and the underworld, who had forbidden Eos from ever leaving his realm of darkness and death. Eos had been a curious child, always asking questions and prodding where he shouldn’t have, largely due to the absence of his mother, who is still unknown to this day. As he grew older, his curiosity only intensified, wanting to know more and more of the world beyond the realm of his father. So, he escaped his father’s realm into our world. He wandered and explored, only at night, drinking in the beauty of our world until one night he came across the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She was night personified, with ebony skin, eyes of pure, glowing starlight, and long, silken hair of white and silver.
My mother would always tell this part of the story from the point of view of Nyx, who had been watching Eos wander aimlessly through the night, in awe of everything and anything. From something as small as an owl cooing in the night to something as big as observing a village celebrating during some holiday into the early hours of the morning. He was drinking in all he saw with such appreciation, such fervor, that she could not help but appear before him. Once she did, she saw a man who looked like no other, with hair so black it looked blue and skin so pale it glowed under the full moon. His eyes were a deep brown, sharp yet kind and curious, and they were staring at her, wide-eyed at her beauty and radiance. Their love for each other was instantaneous, but Eos, being isolated, and Nyx, having her own tragic backstory, were unsure of this new and intense feeling they had for each other.
They spent time together, with Nyx being Eos’s tour guide, showing him more of the beauty of Anakron, like the expansive grasslands of the Badwadi peoples or the twin waterfalls of Elusia. The latter is where they confessed their feelings for one another and made love for the first time, their souls becoming entwined in a bond deeper than either of them had ever anticipated. Unbeknownst to them, Erebus was going mad with rage, and after his hounds couldn’t find Eos, he took up searching for his beloved son himself. Once he finally found Eos, he unleashed his fury upon him and punished Eos for his disobedience. He only allowed Eos to leave his realm during the fleeting moments between night and day, and day and night—during twilight. Only then could he see his lover, his soulmate, during those few moments. Their story would excite me beyond imagination. Any time my mother would tell it, I would immediately pepper her with questions, prompting her to laugh. She would then rouse Arion, who would without fail fall asleep every time she told their story.
A quiet knock and a request to come in at the door to my bathing chamber roused me from my daydreaming about my mother. “Come in, Ria,” I said, turning away from the window overlooking the garden as Ria entered, swiftly closing the door behind her. “I’m sorry, Princess, but we must begin getting you ready,” she said, walking to the small linen closet and pulling out a towel for me.
While her back was to me, I stood up from the bath and stepped out of the tub onto the large plush fur rug that sat in the middle of the room. Ria, without turning around, handed me the towel to dry myself off. Lucia had let herself in, again using that twin connection with Ria to recognize that I’d be in need of my dressing gown, which she had neatly folded over her arm. She quickly handed Ria the robe and closed the door behind her. Ria unfolded it and held it open for me, turning her head away to give me some privacy. She helped me slip my arms into the sleeves of the gown, and I quickly moved to tie it securely around my waist.
Ria ushered me out of the bathing chamber and to my vanity, where I once again sat on the plush velvet chair. Ria began on my hair, first drying it with a towel and then combing through some conditioning oil. Lucia sat on a small wooden stool beside me and began filing my nails and trimming back my cuticles. “I thought my nails looked fine. Is all this really necessary for lunch?” I asked.
Lucia sighed and said, “Yes, Princess. Clara informed us that the king requested you be in your best condition for this lunch.” I rolled my eyes. “Where is Clara, anyway?”
“She is running an errand. I believe she should be returning any minute now,” Ria said from behind me as she brushed my hair with a bristle brush. Frustration and overwhelm crept over me as I observed the peculiar behavior of everyone around me. Each response seemed cryptic, as if they hoped their vague answers would shut me up and ensure that I let them dress me up like a doll.
I glanced at the clock, wishing the hands would move faster. I yearned for the predictability of my morning training with Ser Orion, the familiar ache of muscles well-used, and the intellectual challenges Master McDougal always presented in the afternoons, that is when he wasn’t dozing off.
I sighed. Another thing that added to my frustration was missing my training with Ser Orion. Memories of our last lesson were still vivid in my mind—a grueling session of footwork and sparring that left me sprawled on the floor of the training quarters. Despite being utterly exhausted after every session with Orion, I reveled in the two hours that I was not a princess, relishing the opportunity to feel strong and in control, honing my skills with each session I had with him.
Clara came bursting through the door to my bedchamber, a footman in tow who was holding another couple of boxes—one a deep emerald green with a matching lighter green ribbon, and the other a soft, creamy white. I sighed, assuming it was more unnecessary things for tonight’s celebration. The footman glanced my way quickly and immediately looked away, noting that I was in my dressing gown. His cheeks shone red with embarrassment. “My apologies, your highness.” He quickly shoved the boxes into Clara’s hands. “It’s of no consequence,” I said, my voice faltering as he didn’t even wait for me to finish speaking before he turned on his heel and skittered away.
Ria and Lucia let out a small giggle, as did I, at his embarrassment. Clara snapped a quick look our way and our giggling ceased. She quickly put the boxes on the bed and looked at the pocket watch she kept tucked in the front pocket of her long-sleeved, floor-length simple navy dress. “Oh Gods. Ladies, we need to get moving. Ria, how much longer do you have on her hair?” she asked as she moved towards the vanity. “I am almost done; I just need to set her hair in place,” she said, moving to grab a pomade from one of the drawers of the vanity.
Ria had tamed the frizziness that normally plagues my hair, weaving the front sections of my hair into four intricate braids that ran along either side of my head, converging into one large braid down my back. She set the rest of my hair in loose waves using clever techniques to form the perfect waves and pomade to set the waves into place. “I am done with her hands. Shall I apply some rouge?” Lucia said, putting some sweet-smelling oil on the tops of my hands and rubbing it in. “No, you pull out her gown and shoes for lunch. Let's go with… you know what, pull out some options and let Dominica choose.” Clara said, gazing at me with an emotion I couldn’t quite place as she focused her attention on the unopened boxes before her.
“Okay, I’m all done with your hair, your highness. What do you think?” Ria asked, pulling my attention from Clara’s reflection in the mirror and onto myself. She handed me a mirror so I could see the back. I admired her handiwork in the mirror, beholding the perfectly symmetrical braids that ran along the sides of my head and converged into a larger, neat braid that ran down my back, sitting atop loose waves. “Perfect, as always, Ria. Thank you,” I said, setting the mirror down. She bobbed her head in thanks as she began to put away everything she had used for my hair. Clara had made her way over to us when she heard Ria’s declaration. “I’ll take care of her face, Ria. Go help your sister.”
As Ria nodded in acknowledgment and finished tidying up, Clara retrieved a selection of cosmetics. She had me turn around to face her so she could apply a light layer of soft pink rouge on my lips for some color and a beeswax concoction to add a hint of shine. She applied a different color rouge, more mauve than pink, on the tops of my cheeks, as well as a light swipe of black kohl along my eyelids, accentuating the almond-shaped eyes I inherited from my mother. After she was done, she knelt before me and took my hands in hers. “Dominica, I know you miss your mother terribly and that it should be she, not I, talking before you now,” she said, squeezing my hands tight. “You’ve grown to be a beautiful, smart, strong, and kind woman, one that your mother would be proud of. Today you need to wield the intelligence that your mother passed to you, and the knowledge that Master McDougal has taught you. You rarely see your father, let alone in such proximity, so be on guard and keep your wits about you, especially with the unknown of the Duke and his sons.”
My eyes widened at the revelation. “So he’s bringing both of them?” Clara nodded in confirmation. “Yes, rumor has it that he actually named his heir and is pitting them against each other. This trip is part of their test to see who becomes his heir.”
My grip tightened on the chair’s armrest as Clara spoke. The image of Duke Sinclair, a man who fathered children only to discard them until they suited his needs, mirrored too closely the man who had struck my brother without hesitation. I could almost hear my father's dismissive tone, the same indifference that had marked my childhood.
What a cruel man, fathering these children outside of wedlock and ignoring them until they become convenient. The latter part sounds a lot like someone I know.
“This day keeps on getting better and better,” I said. Clara gave my hands a small squeeze and stood up from where she knelt, letting go of my hands and smoothing out her dress. Clara smiled down at me and said, “Time to get you dressed, Dominica.”