The Crystal Kingdom

(102 SC, Snow Thaw)

Part I.

Before one of three raging fires, stood a stocky, plump woman; she was kneading dough to make homemade bread for the evening feasting. She paused long enough to brush her greying hair away from her sweaty, beat-red face, then tackled the mound of dough with a renewed vengeance. A hum left her throat as the cook settled back into her work. The song was picked up by the other woman in the kitchen, who was readying a tray of pastries. Together, they let the song pass their time as they worked and used the rhythm to steady their kneading.

On a usual day, more than twelve other kitchen staff would have been humming along too, making the kitchen thrum in a joyful round; however, the time was still in a lull from post-lunch as the staff took their short reprieve before the evening’s feast preparations.  Only the two women, the head cook—who was too stubborn to rest when work was to be done—and the other, the Lady of the House, had remained to make batches of desserts for the night’s events.

The Lady of the House untied her apron and set it aside. She breathed out a happy sigh at a job well done as she watched the pastries begin to bake in the fires. The joy turned sour, however, as she turned to regard her daughter. The youth sat on a tabletop near the windows. There was a look of longing in the girl’s eyes as she stared out at the inviting landscape of high-mountain pines and spring wildflowers that called through the pane's portal; the expression had been seen too often by the queen of late. “She is sulking again, do you not also think, Sava?” The Lady of the House asked the old cook. She ignored her daughter's brandy-eyed glare at the inference.

“Oh, not at all, My Highness.” Cook Sava answered cheerfully. “She's just a sufferin' the fever o' youth. She'll grow out of it, but, for the time bein’, she just needs a little time for herself.”

“I am not so sure of that.” Queen Lestial replied, exasperated by the girl’s dalliance. She turned back to her daughter and put a hand on her slender hip. “Zerra, it's the eve of your thirteenth birthday, and—and per usual—you’re just sitting there doing nothing of any importance! Most girls your age are busy perfecting their stitches or practicing their etiquettes or penmanship. Yet, here you are staring off into space.” The princess turned away from her mother with a sour expression. “Zerra! Why do you look away? I am talking to you.” Queen Lestial let out a sigh in frustration. “You are not thinking of your brothers' sword practices again, are you? You know that you can never lead such a life.”

“Highness!” Cook Sava scolded, unafraid to confront her queen. “She is young! Leave rest her dawdling; she will outgrow it. B'sides, your pastries are nearly browned. Come set 'em from the fire.”

Still perturbed, Lestial turned back to her cooking. Cook Sava smiled smugly at her victory and shared a secretive wink at the girl before turning back to her own loaves of bread. “You know, I think we've outdone ourselves on His Majesty's return feast, Highness. He should be greatly pleased with the lemon pastries and the duck soup. Now, all we need are these apple-snap cakes.”

“Do not fret.” Lestial calmed the cook, “Lanar will understand if he does not get his round cakes.”

“Yes, I know, Highness, but I'm not his head cook for nothin'. He will have all his favorites…”

Zerra barely listened to the older women banter about the dinner feast. She, unlike her mother, had no interest in cooking. There was no foreseeable way she would understand why the queen liked the laborious task—especially when being the Lady of the Castle meant she was not required to work in the kitchens.  A soft sigh escaped Zerra's lips as she surveyed the groves of fir trees that grew along the cobbled lane in the courtyard below. They pointed the way to her real passion. The ninety-horse stable was just visible through the trees, its normal bustle lost in the green screen of the forest. Oh, how she would rather be there than in the stifling kitchens!

Annoyed and bored, Zerra began to count pinecones in the trees across the way.

As if the Stars wished to grant the princess's silent desire, a tall-statured and fair-haired youth came galloping down the lane—interrupting her count of one-hundred-and-twenty cones. He reined his fine-boned, steel-grey steed to a stop below the kitchen's window and yelled up to his sister. “Hey, Zer, hurry down! Father was seen by the river crossing. He will be here soon! We ride to meet him.”

It was all the prompting the princess needed. “Coming!” Zerra yelled back, happy for the alibi to go to the stables. She spun away as her brother, Lance, turned his horse around. Ignoring the queen's disapproving call, the princess flew out of the kitchen and through the halls to the eastern stairwell. Without slowing, she bound down the long staircase, through the main grounding, and out to the courtyard, heading ever toward the barn where her three brothers were waiting.

Nearing the stable, the princess called out, “Vale!”. She grinned when a towering, black stallion answered her call. The great courser sidled up to the twelve-year-old and stood in quivering anticipation as Zerra reached up to grab a handful of his flowing mane and swung herself up onto his broad back. Valed Darkness had been the princess’s mount since she had been a little girl; she was very comfortable around him—and, perhaps a little too feckless—unfazed by his towering height.

Lance guided his horse beside the tackless black and flashed his sister a smile. “I thought this would be a good excuse for you to escape the kitchens.”

“It was. Thank you, brother.” Zerra grinned as she settled onto the stallion’s back, relishing in the feeling of his muscles bunching underneath her in a sign of readiness and power. On cue, Vale was spinning about to set the pace as the four siblings rode south toward the orchards that connected to the creek road. Her other two brothers rode abreast of the other siblings’ horses and shared smiles at their sister’s characteristic ill-behavior.

Zeek, who was the closest to their younger sister in age, gave Zerra a sympathetic look. “Mother was that bad, huh?” He teased. He could tell that Zerra had been lectured again. “She will come around in time, I am sure of it.”

Zerra nodded, though she knew the prospect unlikely, then motioned to her brother's horse, wanting to forget her torturous afternoon in the kitchens. “How is Causinova doing?”

“Very well, since you worked with him.” Zeek leaned forward to stroke his light-chestnut charger admirably. The horse arched his neck in pleasure at being praised and struck the ground all the harder with his enormous, platter-sized hooves. Zeek laughed at Causinova's exuberance. “Yes, he has been doing exceptionally well.”

“Well, good for him!” Page huffed from the other side. The other Starkindler siblings looked over to see Page's dark bay, Moon Dancer, crow-hopping down the lane, overexcited at their excursion. “Stop it!” Page growled and pulled his horse's head up. He glanced sheepishly at his sister and brothers. “She only acts up now and then but often enough to make me wish for a gelding. “Mooney” here is quite temperamental these days.”

“You calling her that is why she acts this way, you know. Ladies like to be treated well.” Lance teased from his place next to Zerra. He let loose a laugh at his brother's grimace and guided their posse onto the creek road.

The Starkindlers lapsed into a comfortable silence as they cantered along, passing the last of the peach groves. The road stretched away, then, across a waving pasture of wild oats and continued until it reached the creek. The four royals pulled their horses up alongside the calm waters at the end of the lane and allowed their mounts to graze in the shade of the weeping branches of the willow trees that grew along the embankment.

The sound of coming hoof beats down the road played out just as the four horses caught their breaths. Vale pricked his small, stallion-ears and rang out his challenge to the trespassers. The shrill whinny of Victory, the king's courser, echoed the black's. Only Zerra's calming hand on her stallion's neck kept Vale from rushing at the other horse, who came prancing proudly up to the group in all his gleaming, bay glory. King Lanar stopped him safely away from the other stallion and flashed an appreciative smile at his four children. “This is a great surprise after a long ride. And a feast for mine sore eyes,”

“Still rhyming away, are we?” Lance teased as he hopped off Starwind. King Lanar echoed his eldest son's laugh as he leaned down to hug him.  He straightened then and extended his hands to his other sons, who affectionately took his callused hands in their own. The king grinned at them and lifted his handsome face to include his daughter in their reunion.

Without another word, the young men broke from their father's grasp and climbed back onto their mounts. A final, delighted gleam passed through the king's eyes as he motioned the procession onward, back to the enormous Crystal Castle beyond. The three princes joined their father at the front of the line, excited for news from the front. King Lanar, having long been away, obliged his sons with tales of his adventures on the battlefield.

None of the brothers seemed to notice the princess, as they were enraptured by king's exciting stories, so Zerra hung back from her family and cued the stallion away from the procession. The duo disappeared onto a different path through the cherry groves. In quiet relief and finally alone, Zerra let the happy banter drift away behind her. “All right, Vale, let's have some fun!” The stallion flicked back an ear then snorted happily at the suggestion. He leapt into a long-strided gallop. The two of them sped off, dodging trees and jumping irrigation ditches that ran in perfect rows down the lane. It felt amazing to feel the wind whip Zeera’s black hair away from her face; she grinned at the sheer joy of riding and spread her arms out as if to embrace the lazy sun.

Yet, in what seemed no time at all, the stable came into view, and the pair was forced to slow to a dainty walk (so the ladies at the court would not complain of Zerra's reckless joyriding). “Sorry, boy. My mother has harped on me about appearances. She would skin us both alive if she heard about us in her ladies' court.” Vale bobbed his head, as if he understood, and resolved to the sedate walk required as he clopped across the cobbled courtyard. The stallion stopped by the stable entrance at last and stood sedately as a groom hurried out to meet them.

“M'lady, may I take y'er horse?”

Zerra glanced around cautiously and noted there were only stable hands around. “No, Jeremy, I think I will tend to Vale myself today. Could you keep watch for the king? His Majesty and the Crystine will be here soon.” Jeremy nodded and tried to help the princess steady herself as she slid off, but Zerra waved his touch away. The stable boy backed off, flushing in shame. “Oh, Jeremy, don’t be angry with me.” Zerra begged softly, as she turned to him.

“I'm not, M'lady.” Jeremy reassured her. “I's just forgot you've no wish to be treated like the other ladies. That t’is all.” Zerra smiled at him and began to turn away; however, Jeremy grabbed her arm. Quickly he released his grasp, knowing it was an affront to touch royalty and gave a bow of apology. “Sorry, Y'er Highness. Ah...Lord Carrod arrived today. He may seek you out. I just wished you t'know.”

Zerra frowned, unhappy to hear the young man’s name. She disliked the lordling from Blue Haven. “I thank you, Jeremy. Please warn me, if you can, if you see him approaching.”

“Yes, M'lady.” He shared, with a knowing grin. “I'll come sprintin' if I see 'im.” Jeremy turned away, then, to take care of an unruly chestnut colt. He left the princess to take her stallion to his stall.

Vale followed along placidly as Zerra hurried ahead of the great stallion and collected her grooming equipment. Trained, Vale continued past Zerra to enter his stall, all without his usual antics. His young owner smiled sympathetically. “I know, I hate this stupid dignification as much as you do. Luckily, our guests will be gone by tomorrow evening.” Vale waffed softly and turned to his hay as the princess picked up a curry comb to brush the sweat from his body. She rubbed the stallion’s coat in circles then exchanged the curry for a soft-bristled brush. She finished his grooming by working through his draping mane and tail with a deer-bone comb.

Just as Zerra was finishing, Jeremy came running up and ran his finger across his neck. He disappeared in a flurry. Glancing down the aislway, Zeera saw why. She instantly recognized the burly Havanese youth who strolled down it. “Dang!” She whispered and ducked back inside. Vale glanced at the princess quizzically as she went to hide behind him to crouch in the corner—and not a moment too soon. At the next breath, Carrod's heavy footsteps paused outside the stallion's stall.

The young lordling's husky voice, which changed dramatically as he spoke, ruined the quiet of the stable. “Oh, Vale! Move your blocky ass away from the door!” Zerra watched as the young man placed a ring-studded hand on the stallion's hindquarters and shoved. Vale pinned his ears and snorted at the offense, as he lifted his hind leg to kick outward. The hand disappeared in a haste, and Carrod's voice resounded again. “Stop that, you blockhead!”

Zerra was sure Carrod would have said more, if not for other footsteps nearing. To her relief, Lance's voice followed. “What are you doing here, young sir? Step away from Valed Darkness's stall! The king would be furious to see you harass his prized stallion such as you are.”

“I am looking for your sister, Highness.”

“Well, she is not here, now is she?” Lance replied, harshly. “Princess Zerra will be found in the castle. If you had the wit about you, you would know to look for her among the nobles and not the grooms!” If Carrod answered at all, Zerra did not catch it, but she was glad to hear the heavy footsteps of the young lord leaving. A few minutes later, Lance's hand touched the stallion's hindquarters, moving him away, and the prince entered the stall. He ignored his sister as he stroked the black horse and spoke to him. “He's rude, isn't he? I apologize in his stead, Vale.”

The stallion turned to sniff in the prince's pockets, looking for treats, then turned away to the princess when he found none. Zerra touched her hand to his velvety nose before standing up.

“And you are lucky to have the protection of the stallion. Even my words on your whereabouts can not proceed the rumors of your skulking around.”

“I know.” Zerra looked shyly away from her brother's brown gaze. “Unfortunately, Vale is not able to come to the banquets or be present at court to chase away my unwanted stalkers.”

“The princess will have to make do with her protective brothers instead.” Lance answered seriously though there was a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, if she must.” Zerra fell into her royalty role once again.

“And now, we mustn't tarry if we are to be presentable for the banquet.”

Zerra reluctantly agreed with her brother, and they stepped out of Vale's stall. Lance offered her his arm, and the two siblings walked out of the stable to face what they knew would be a long, drawn out evening.

A flustered maid flew up to them, as they walked through the main anteway. “Where have you been, Princess?! The queen is in a frenzied at your disappearance, and the time is so pressing!” She pulled the reluctant Starkindler away from her brother. The maid scurried, with princess in tow, up the main flights of steps, and turned left to the queen's chamber. They burst into the room in unruly fashion, further unsettling Queen Lestial. “I have brought her, My Highness.”

“And in such a haste, for thee was late.” The Crystal Kingdom's queen frowned in disapproval.

“It is not she you are to blame.” Zerra drew herself up under her mother's strong gaze.

“Indeed, she is not,” Lestial agreed, “It is not she who flees to the stables when work is asked, nor is it she who should care that thee is inappropriate for the royal banquet.”

Zerra stood proud under her mother's held wrath. “I went to receive my king.”

“If you were one of his sons it would be deemed appropriate, Zerra, but you are his only daughter. You are not fit for man's business.” Zerra held her tongue at her mother’s harsh words. If the queen expected an outburst, she was not indulged. “So, she has learned to hold her tongue?” Lestial murmured. “Very well. Now, let's see...” She scrutinized her daughter. “You smell of horse and sweat, eh, and pieces of straw are stuck to you.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she picked out the stall bedding from Zerra’s dress. “Oh, it won't do! Go get in the bath and be quick about it! The time is pressing and you are unfit to be presented.”

Zerra sighed and followed the maid to her bath where she was promptly washed. She was given no time to dally in the warm water, nor in getting into her party flock, which was fitted to her much too tightly. Then, it was off to the hairdresser where her black tresses were buffeted around as the dresser expressed her opinions on its style. The lady finally decided on a braided crown, encompassed by a nest of tiny, tightly twisted buns. Blue and white flowers were added at the end to contrast with Zerra's black hair.

“There now, Highness, let Her Majesty inspect you.”

Zerra plodded back to her mother's chamber and stood still as Lestial inspected her once again. “You could do with perfume and a little powder.” Queen Lestial commented as she ran her slender fingers over Zerra's sapphire dress. “Yes, yes. And your white diamond necklace.” She shooed her away again so Zerra could be appropriately swaddled. When Zerra reappeared the third time, Queen Lestial's eyes lit up in approval. “Oh, yes! That is so pretty. My, do you look so grown up!”

Zerra glanced in the mirror beside her and gave a withering look. She looked like a fancied, pale-faced puppet. How could anyone stand this?

“Oh, come now, darling.” Queen Lestial hugged her daughter from behind. “You look just alluring.”

Zerra groaned at the word. “Alluring to whom? Only a dullard could be attracted to this.” Her mind was on Carrod.

“Zerra! I swear,” Lestial reprimanded, “You look very sophisticated. Most ladies at court are even more lavishly attired than that, and we can't have you too under-dressed. That would be awkward.”

For whom? Zerra thought but kept the comment to herself. “Very well, mother. I guess I will head down now.” Zerra paused only long enough for her mother to give her a kiss on a cheek before she rushed out the door—much to Lestial's chagrin.

Her brother, Zeek, stood outside. Zerra paused to take in her brother's handsome attire. He had also been decked out in blue; the velvet shirt looked dashing against the coffee color of his erdskin pants and leather boots. The prince’s black hair had been slicked back into a warrior's ponytail that hung neatly to his shoulders. Of the four Starkindler siblings, both Zeek and Zerra bore their father's dark features, while the other two had Lestial's fair ones. Zerra thought it made her and Zeek appear mysterious and aloof, which was probably, in part, why they were less apt to being in the social light. (People did tend to avoid brooders.) Zeek bowed to his sister, in mock curtsey. “Prince Lance had requested I escort you, Princess Zerra.”

“My thanks, Prince Zeek.” Zerra returned and accepted her brother's right arm. Together, they strode through the hallways and down the grand staircase, attempting to be stately. Guests glanced up from the ground floor, their eyes held on the prince and princess as they paused on the last landing. A few gasps arose in the room, and young men and women flocked to the stairwell to get a closer look at Zerra.

“Keep walking.” Zerra ordered from the corner of her mouth. “Give them no chance to ogle longer than possible.” Prince Zeek chuckled but followed her instructions without pause, though the “oglers” flocked around them. They were able to reach the spacious ballroom with easy speed.

Zerra's eyes wandered across the enormous room as she took in all the new details set out for the celebration feast: Bright tapestries hung on the walls, painting scenes of the past histories of the Crystal Kingdom. As was customary, the largest tapestry was of the Eight Kingdoms of Syre; it hung centermost of all the other hangings, there so guests could feel included during events. The princess loved to study the rich colors of the tapestries as she ran her fingers over the names of places around the Crystal Kingdom or the other eight kingdoms that made up Syre. Zerra frequently day-dreamed of future visits to such places are Blue Haven, Rubia, and Sunrise, or the farther kingdoms Staria, Golden, and Sealand. Of course, there was also the forests and ruins of the lost kingdom, Crystalynian, to the north—though no one dared venture into the Forbidding Forest anymore... Some guests, she knew, came from these fairytale kingdoms. It was, perhaps, the only real and exciting reason to attend such events as balls.

In additional decorations about the room. Flourishes of colors had been set over the tables and pillars, made up of many assortments of wildflowers from the mountain pastures of the Kingdom's lands. Rich carpets had been placed underneath the tables' feet to cushion the stone floor. Comfortable pillows and cushions adorned the large, flat stones around the ten blazing fireplaces against the walls; the fires would continue to be a gathering place this night, for, though it was spring, the nights in the Crystal Kingdom—which nestled itself in a mountain valley—were still a bit chilly. Finally, to add to the simple beauty, the cooks were already dining the table with colorful meats, cheeses, breads, and greens.

Zerra's eyes took all of this in in a single glance; she was pleased with the sight. Despite the princess’s dislike of such affairs, she did love dancing and eating delectable foods reserved for such occasions. If it wasn’t for the dreadful dresses and suffocating etiquette, she would have reveled in the night’s celebration more—especially when the castle looked so stunning. “May we join our brothers, Prince Zeek?” Zerra asked as she spotted the said siblings near a fireplace surrounded by other young nobility. Zeek obeyed wordlessly.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Lance glanced up as his younger siblings approached. With the movement, the others gathered around him turned to see who came near. Lance smiled at his sister. “And here is my porcelain princess.”

Zerra joined in his laughter over their secret joke. “Yes, my darling brother, I am indeed “painted to perfection” this night.” She allowed Zeek and Lance to steer her to a blue silk pillow. Once she was settled, she glanced around at her brothers' unfamiliar friends. “I do not believe we have met.”

Prince Page handed her a glass of wine then began introductions, starting with the young man to her right. “This here is Lord William Greyson of the kingdom Staria and his sister, Lady Rosetta.”

Zerra nodded politely as they were introduced but struggled to hold back a chuckle at the formalness in her brother's voice. Since they were not really considered nobility—in title— just of noble birth, there was no real need for such formalities. Only Page could give introductions with a flair that allowed their guests to feel privileged.

“Next, may I give you Lords Brédon Serliv and Markus Pride of Rubia.” Both boys, though from different houses, were tall and thin with near-white hair and ice blue eyes that glistened warmly at Zerra. The princess had a feeling, as she smiled back at them, that they would be pleasant to speak with and help ease the dullness of the evening.

Page waved his sister back to their present introductions and motioned to the next person in the circle, a young man dressed in Sealand blue. He sported interesting golden eyes. “Lord Gordar Farrylin of Sealand, cousin and Lord Protector of His Highness Prince Par Fantill—whom you already know.” Gordar was quick to give his hello and back away, allowing room for the other Sealander to come to the fore.  Prince Par, like his cousin, was slenderly built, with golden-blonde hair tied back in a warrior's tale. He was one of the eldest of those gathered. His ocean-blue eyes showed sympathy for Zerra. He was the only guest there that the princess had met previously, and he knew, well, how annoyed she really was over the court formalities. Smiling kindly, Prince Par took her hand and brushed a kiss above her gloved knuckles. Zerra felt herself blush under the white makeup.

“And this is Highness Éleen Éldon-Tomino, eldest daughter of King Éldon and Queen Asilla of Blue Haven.” Page continued, ignoring the other prince's overly-familiar hello. Éleen curtsied gracefully before averting her eyes shyly to the floor.

“Welcome to the Crystal Palace.” Zerra said to the pretty girl with a smile, in hopes of settling the older girl's nervousness. Éleen peeped up through her brunette bangs to return the look. The smile seemed less guarded.

“And lastly,” Page called Zerra's attention away from Éleen. “I would like to present to you, His Highness Prince Rowin Sunrise of the Sunrise Kingdom.”

Zerra had not noticed the handsome youth standing on the other side of Lance. Just his title alone surprised her, for never before had the Sunrise royalty graced a celebration outside their own kingdom, yet it was his appearance that shocked her even more. Where the other youths wore fine clothing, his was even richer. His maroon tunic was tailored to precision to accent his lean but muscular frame; his leggings, embroidered in gold-thread, made the Starkindlers' erdskin pants unseemly. Rubies adorned a thin circlet of silver around his head, and rings of similar stone adorned each of his slender fingers. The outfit easily accented his dark chestnut hair and midnight-blue eyes, making him a dashing figure to look at. Zerra could have gagged.

Rowin seemed not to care about his appearance—or he was just too used to it. He bent down on a knee, in Sunarian court fashion, and kissed Zerra’s hesitantly outstretched hand. “My household is graced to be invited to this celebration, Princess Zerra. May your father continue his victory on the front lines at the Crystal-Rubian border.” “And, may the princess have an enjoyable coming-of-age.”

Zerra glanced up, startled, at the prince's telepathy, but she stopped herself from blurting out her astonishment. She realized, of a sudden, that Rowin must had inherited his mother's, Queen Sylvia's, rumored gift of telepathy.

“Yes, princess, I am indeed a telepath, as has been rumored. I bid you not to be frightened of this.” He released her hand, and only seconds had passed between their little exchange. Zerra stared at the Sunarian prince as he stepped back to his former position by her eldest brother.

After Prince Rowin returned to his spot, Lance informed Zerra of the whereabouts of his best friend, the Prince of Staria. “Prince Al'den sends his regrets for not making this night, sister.” He said, bending over to whisper in her ear. “The fighting against the maunstorz has gotten a bit rough, and there were concerns that a Starian party would not make it safely here. He sent ahead a gift for you and a letter of pardon. I put it in your room.”

“Thank you, brother.” Zerra whispered back. “Send my regards for his safety, and my thanks at his generosity, when next you write him. I do miss his not being here.”

“Will do.” Lance gave her an affectionate peck on her cheek and straightened to join in the conversation with his friends.

Zerra sat quietly on her pillow as the others talked and gossiped. For her, their conversations were idle and little important compared to horse breeding or the attacks of the maunstorz to the north and west; such talk as was deemed inappropriate for a lady at court. Therefore, the princess kept to herself. Her brandy eyes wandered around the ballroom, seeking out faces she knew. Zerra noted which nobles were present and who had accompanied whom. Nearly all of King Lanar's soldiers were present, as well, decked out in court-acceptable vestments. Her eyes finally rested on Carrod. The young lordling was standing amongst a group of older nobles, looking, for the most part, ignored. Zerra smirked, happy to see the sight. There was no way could Carrod leave to find her without the disapproval of his chosen companions.

Servants scurried over to the small group and bade them to follow to their seats. The youths split and made their ways to the dinner tables. All about the room, knights and nobles were being directed to their places so that the king and queen of the Crystal Kingdom could enter the great hall.

Once everyone had found their chairs, the main doors were pushed aside and King Lanar and Queen Lestial walked in, regal heads held high and hands clasped affectionately. Everyone continued to stand until the rulers took their places at the head of the main table and motioned for the room to sit. Neither royal gave a speech, only enough words to bide their guests to enjoy the night. The feasting began soon afterward, in a flurry of reaching hands and a flood of talking. Food was offered by polite retainers, who hovered behind the guests. Soon everyone's plates were heaped with delicious smells and tastes.

Zerra was one of only a few at the royal head-table that didn't indulge in the fine cuisine before her. She ate tiny mouthfuls, as appropriate of a princess, and silently pinned for the simple but palatable meals Sava cooked for the soldiers. A polite tap to her right snapped Princess Zerra out of her thoughts.

“You okay, sis?” Zeek whispered as he glanced around the table to see what she had been staring at.

“Yes, I was just lost in thought.” She picked up a piece of bread to show she was back to the present.

Zeek gave her an amused smile. “Do share, little sister, or perhaps not? At least join in the conversation if you can. Maybe with Prince Par across the way or our new guest His Highness Rowin Sunrise to your left? He had been glancing this way, but, I believe, he is too intimidated to speak with you when you scowl in such a way.” To prove his point, Zeek mirrored her look, teasingly. “It looks better on me don't you think?”

“Hardly,” Zerra chuckled, “But I will try to look less menacing, big brother. Perhaps, you are right that I should court friendlier ties with the Sunrise family.”

Again, Zeek gave her a mocking scowl. “Just don't get wooed, young lady, by his rubies and callings of gold.”

“Like I would.” She answered sarcastically before turning away from her brother. Taking an inaudible intake of air, Zerra sucked in as much confidence and courtesy as she could muster, then pasted a smile on her face as she turned to the Sunarian prince.

“How is your dinner, Highness Sunrise?”

Rowin turned to smile at her with all his Sunarian charm. Perhaps because she had finally spoken to him or maybe he really was enjoying himself? “It is absolutely superb, Princess. In fact, it is the best cuisine I have tasted in a long while.” He paused to courteously wipe his mouth on his linen napkin. “And how about you? Is the food satisfactory?”

“Yes, it is wonderful.” She answered with her best sincere smile. Inwardly, though, Zerra felt like gagging on her court-friend politeness.

Rowin nodded then took a sip of red wine to wash down his meal. He rose a finger in the air to show he had a thought to share as he gulped down the drink. Replacing his cup, the prince brushed a ruby-studded hand in the air charmingly. “I heard a rumor in the stables earlier, that you are the rider of the Crystal Kingdom's allegedly undefeatable black stallion. Is that a fact?”

Zerra hesitated and glanced to the head of the table where her father and mother sat. They would not be happy to know the grooms had told their guests that their only daughter rode more than their tamest horses, and most especially their prized black stallion; however, Zerra then remembered her annoyance at her mother for being reprimanded for riding the said mount. “Yes,” she stated boldly, “I do ride Valed Darkness. I am the only one, besides my father, that he will let astride him.”

Rowin's eyes sparkled in amusement at her matter-of-fact tone. “Then you must also be involved in his breeding. I have heard he is bred only to the best of mares.”

“Yes.” Zerra answered, beginning to be suspicious. “He is matched carefully to each mare so that the offspring is hardy and athletic. His lines are seen in many of our top horses, including our racers and war coursers.”

“I have heard nothing less.” Rowin answered politely. “The reason I am asking all this, is that my mother and I are here to buy blue-blooded war horses and chargers for our military down south. Ever since I saw a Valed Darkness offspring in action at the Deluge Market, I have been hoping to have one of my own.”

Zerra rose a hand in alarm to stop the prince. “I must warn you; my father rarely gives up an offspring of Vales', nor does he breed the stallion to any mare. If you are looking for high-class war horses, you would be better off breeding or buying from Victory's line, father's war courser, or from Glorified or King's Randsome, our other stallions. You would have a better chance of getting breeding rights for them, in any case.”

“Oh, I see.” Rowin's smile faded. “I never realized how right our stable-master was. You see, for years now, I have been selectively breeding some of our mares so that I could get a filly fine enough to rival the Crystal Kingdom's breeding lines. I had hoped, if His Majesty saw her, he would change his mind about breeding Valed Darkness to only his stock. I see, though, that my work will not pay off.” His words came out as a mutter, and, it seemed, he had forgotten he had an audience. With a defeated shrug, he said, “Well, the other stallions are also respectable. Even that mix will strengthen our cavalry.”

Zeek leaned over then to eye Prince Rowin. In the process, he bumped his sister. Zerra noted the twinkle in his eyes that alerted her to pay attention. “Did you say you breed horses yourself, Prince Rowin?”

“Why, yes,” Rowin straightened with pride, “I even brought my best prospect, Blue Galeon, with me.”

“The dark bay mare in the eastern wing of the stables?”

“Yes, that is her.” Rowin beamed. “A beauty, is she not? She is out of Royal Blue and sired by our own stallion, Gallantry, by Léoso. I raised and trained her myself, since she was foaled four years ago. I had seven other horses as well, but she overshadows the rest with her charisma and versatility. She has both strength and speed—a rare match these days.”

“Indeed, she is a jewel. I saw her earlier and had to stop to see her closer. You have an eye for horses, if you have others like her at your stables.”

“Why thank you, Prince Zeek.” Rowin puffed up from the praise.” Yet, it seems my work will fall short of my expectations. Are you sure there is no way I can get Galeon bred to Valed Darkness?”

“I will have to discuss that with the king.” Zeek replied, “But, I have not seen a mare like that in some time. Father might reconsider... Either way, I want you to know, you have my support.”

“I am grateful, Highness.” Rowin eyed Zerra accusingly once Zeek turned back to his dinner. “You should go see Blue Galeon before we leave on the 'morrow. Perhaps, you will change your mind, princess, if you see her.” Without another word, he turned to talk with his mother and another guest.

Zerra was left to glare at him. Boy, is he rude! Zerra thought and sighed. This is going to be one long evening. Annoyed, she picked at her food and wondered who she would have to talk with next. Luckily, she was saved from speaking to anyone else, as King Lanar stood up and raised his glass for silence.

The room quieted. “As you all know, tonight is a celebration of two glorious occasions. First, I would like to congratulate my soldiers and loyal friends who helped us win another victory at the border. We have, once again, thrust back the guerilla attacks of the maunstorz.” A loud cheer echoed through the room. King Lanar allowed it to last a little while before he rose a hand for silence once again. “And is my daughter's eve night for her coming-of-age. As is customary, I have appropriated a gift to bestow on her. My daughter, Princess Zerra Kareen Starkindler, would you rise and accept my gift?”

Zerra's eyes widened and she glanced at her brother. Usually, it was only the male heirs that received a gift on their coming-of-age. Zeek smiled encouragingly and motioned for Zerra to stand. She did so with some hesitation and received a round of applause. Zerra came to stand by her father's right side.

“Tonight, my daughter will cross over into adulthood. With that, she will gain new responsibilities; however, all of her life, I have watched her grow toward this moment. I have seen that she is more than ready and I welcome the fact that I will have her by my side, just as she is right now.” King Lanar turned so he was addressing Zerra singularly. “Zerra, I am so proud of you this night. Since I first saw your face, I have been waiting for this moment. Now it has come. May this coming-of-age be a memorable one for you for years to come. Berneisse!”

“Berneisse!” Everyone echoed enthusiastically.

Then, King Lanar motioned a servant forward and lifted a necklace from the case he bore. “This is for you, Zerra Starkindler. May you always treasure it.”

The silver-chained necklace held a single stone. It was unpolished and naturally cut. Though it was not anything like the royal jewels, Zerra saw in it an unfathomable beauty. Under its obsidian facets danced a shimmering, soft-golden light that was there one moment and a different place the next. It pulsed through the obsidian stone in a way that reminded Zerra of a heartbeat, and, as the stone rested over her collarbone, she felt a warmth, as if the stone was alive. “It is exceptional, father, thank you.” Zerra breathed with delight.

“And someday I will tell you of its history and worth.” King Lanar whispered conspiratorially before straightening and raising his arms to his audience. “And now may we celebrate! Remove the tables and roll back the carpets! We are going to party all the night long.”

Another cheer rose and the guests hurried to comply with the king's orders. In no time at all, the floors were cleared. Musicians took up the eastern corner of the great hall., and the first song began in earnest. Couples strode out to the dance floor while unpartnered women crowded to the walls and awaited invitations from charming men to bring them to the flurry of the floor. Among those along the wall was Zerra, though her reasons were far different from the others. Silently, she was trying to steel herself from the party—though in truth, she stood little chance of that.

Much to her chagrin, Carrod Nexlé came pushing through the crowd toward her. Zerra grimaced as the burly youth came nearer but she managed to paste a smile on her countenance before he reached her side. “Good evening, My Lady.” Carrod greeted her and kiss her hand. “You look absolutely stunning tonight, princess.”

Zerra almost made a disgusted face but was able to catch herself. “And you look very congenial, as well.” She replied and cringed inwardly. I can't believe I just said that!

Carrod's face lit up at her remark. “So, would you care to dance then, My Lady?” He lifted a hand in invitation.

No. Zerra wanted to blurt out, but she could not think of an excuse that would be good enough to get her out of that mess. “Well...um...”

“There you are, princess! I was worried you had forgotten your promise.” Zerra whirled around to find Prince Par Fantill standing behind her. “You weren't trying to smuggle out of our dance, now were you?”

Carrod stared, flabbergasted, at the Prince from Sealand. “She p-promised you a dance?” He choked out flaccidly.

“Yes, and I apologized that she led you on, Lord Nexlé. As a princess, she should know better.” Par tossed her a disapproving frown, though a playful wink followed it from the eye hidden from Carrod. “Now, if you will excuse us, Lord Nexlé, I wish to reprimand her in private.”

Par pulled Zerra away through the crowd. Once they were far enough to be out of earshot of the lordling, Zerra spun to face the Prince of Sealand; however, before she could get a word out, he continued his teasing. “Are you blushing, princess? I can't tell underneath all that white paint.”

“You...” She growled but was again interrupted by the prince.

“Are very welcomed. I saw how flustered you were and decided to step in before he completely ruined your evening.”

Zerra almost wanted to continue with her angry retort, but she let loose a defeated sigh instead. “I thank you. Belatedly.”

“Oh, come now, Zerra! You know it worked out for the best. You don't have to dance with the charming creep anymore.”

“Yeah, because he thinks I am to be your betrothed. How could you lead him on like that?” Her anger flared instantly back to life.

“It is better betrothed to me than him, I would say.” Par actually seemed serious. Zerra glared at him. “Oh, please tell me you have thought about it?” Her eyes narrowed further. “Think, princess. It is your coming-of-age night. Everyone knows, and that is why there are more young men here than normal.”

Zerra glanced around and realized Par was right. Just like that, her anger was squashed. “Now my evening is ruined.” She groaned and leaned against the nearby pillar, utterly deflated. Many young girls were given proposals at their Berneisse. How had she forgotten the custom? Why can't they just leave me alone? I'm too young to care about all this “dutiful” princess stuff. It totally sucks.

Par's blue eyes softened in sympathy. “I am sorry, Zer, but I couldn't leave you ignorant of that fact.”

“It was my ignorance.”

“Still...you should not become glum tonight. After all, it is your Berneisse.” He paused. “So…is my dance card still filled?”

Zerra couldn't help chuckling in relief. “You are indeed a good friend, Prince of Sealand, though your methods are a bit rough. I gladly accept.” She took his outstretched hand and followed his lead to the floor to join the reel already begun. For the next two-and-a-half hours Prince Par, Zeek, Lance, and Lord Brédon took turns dancing with Zerra.

By the end of the second hour, Prince Par stepped her though a slow waltz then escorted her to the side of the room. “I will need to retire soon,” he informed her.

Zerra's elated eyes dulled at his words. “But it is still so early.”

“Yes, but my family is heading back to Sealand tomorrow, and I need a good sleep for the trip. However, I would like to have a little more time with you. Perhaps, we could venture in the Queen's gardens?”

Zerra accepted. “There will be few people there, especially unwanted ones.” Her mind flashed back to Carrod. “It should be quiet enough that we will not be disturbed.”

“Great.” Par grinned.

The Queen's Garden was indeed expansive. It was the largest room in the castle, laying four acres across; there were twelve paths, twenty-five different plant quadrants, and seven waterfalls surrounding a large, spring-fed lake. Giant evergreen and weeping-willow trees loomed over the cobbled paths, and artful bridges covered the wandering streams; colorful flowers dotted the grassy carpets of the garden.

Zerra led the way, unhindered by the dark, and Par followed her closely. They strolled without speaking, enjoying the quiet of the wandering streams which was soon shattered by the thunder of a nearing waterfall. The pathway Zerra had chosen ended abruptly. It emptied into a small glade at the base of a cascading fall. On floating feet, Zerra raced ahead to her favorite spot under the oldest willow tree in the garden; she disappeared behind its draping veil. Par smiled at her “unladylike” behavior and followed her in more sedately. He parted the falling branches and entered Zerra's hidden domain. “So, this is where you disappear to when we play hide-and-seek.”

“Just one of my many hiding places.” Zerra replied.

“Is that so?” Par chuckled and settled down in a sofa of reeds. Zerra gave him a quizzical glance, a passing thought at his behavior. She shook her head to rid herself of it and sat down in a billowful of skirts. “So, is your Berneisse enjoyable?”

Zerra shrugged and plucked a blade of grass to twirl idly between her fingers. “It is as good as to be expected.”

“But not as you had hoped?”

“No,” she sighed, “But what I had hoped for was not appropriate for a “young lady” such as myself.”

“Ah, I hear your mother's words. She is still set to see you molded into a maiden, I see. Sad that is.”

“Sad? Huh?” Zerra asked. Par leaned back onto his elbows and grinned at her without supplying an answer. “Par, what do you mean by sad?” She urged and added in warning, “Don't make me angry at you again.”

“Perhaps, I’d like to see you get a little miffed.”

No sooner were the words from his mouth did Zerra launched herself at the prince. The royal found himself pinned to the ground in a billow of sapphire pleats. He gaped in shock then let out a pleasant laugh that shook his whole body. “This is what saddens me, Zer, your mother trying to take that tenacious spirit from you. It is the one I have come to love the most.”

It was Zerra’s turn to gasped. The words flustered her; however, she had no time to react as the prince took advantage of the breach in her concentration to flip her onto her back and properly pin her. Par smile was impish as he stared down at her. “So, I can surprise you after all.”

“Yes, when you talk of such things as that.” Zerra growled.

“And I am not joking, princess.” Par's countenance turned sober. He blocked a punch aimed at his stomach.

“You are a jerk, just like every other young man here tonight.” She pushed against the older boy's chest. “Get off of me! Now!” She ordered, beginning to feel trapped in a not-so-good way. Her panic made her struggle more furiously.

“I will not, Zerra.”

Finally, out of breath and subdued, Zerra ceased her struggle and laid back. She turned her head away from Prince Par's handsome face. “You are no different from them.” She repeated.

“But, you know, you don't really mean that.” Par touched her cheek and brought her head back around. “I, like your parents and brothers, want you to be happy, Zer. Others you could have, this I know, but would you really be happy with them? Strangers. I am giving you a choice. You do not have to decide now; and I do not want to pressure you with this, but, at least, take the time to think it over.”

“But you are six years older than me, and...and there are many others you could choose, that must be more acceptable to the Sealand crown.”

Par smiled at her with the same warmth Zerra had always remembered. “Age makes no difference once you grow old enough to see it. And my parents adore you, you know all this. I have thought this through a long time, Zer. I do not want anyone else. Just you. If you trust me, I will wait for you to decide.”

Words said, the fair-haired Sealander pushed himself away from the princess, stood, and strode out of the concealing branches of the willow tree. Zerra lay there in the dark, trying to separate the turmoil of her thoughts and calm the rapid beating of her heart; the price had thoroughly shocked her. Yet, she knew her parents would approve a marriage between herself and Sealand. The two royal houses had been life-long friends. And, her brothers would be elated to have the prince in the family.

But—what of herself? Would she be happy? Marriage had never been one of her fancies—and to Par? She liked him all right, to be certain—after all, she had known him most of her life—but...Zerra still felt so young! The age gap between them had always been a little daunting. She looked up to the Sealander as an acquaintance of the family. Yet, Zerra knew there was only one question Par wanted her to answer: did she love him like he loved her? Or could she grow to love him…in that way?

“This princess thing really is a pain in the derriere!” She growled. Sighing in frustration, Zerra lofted herself up and pushed aside the willow tree's leaves. She stalked to the edge of the stream. It was only as she neared, that the form of Par's body took shape, startling her that the fact that the prince was still so near. “I thought you had left.” She squeaked out and tried to ease her anxious heart.

“And I thought you would leave,” Par's voice came out softly, “But then Serein's song told me you were not leaving but coming nearer.”

Zerra paused, confused at the word the prince had used. “Who is Serein?”  She asked as she joined Par by the water's edge.

Without explanation, Par reached into the collar of his shirt and lifted a necklace from around his neck. He held the silver chain in front of him and allowed the beautiful, glowing brilliance of its sapphire to pierce the darkness. A sweet ocean song poured from the stone. A moment later, it was answered by a mysterious nighttime call. Shocked, Zerra clutched the black stone at her breastbone. Her stone called again, and the two songs melded in the night.

“Serein calls to yours.” Par said, his voice still quiet. “She calls herself that. Apparently, it means “water holder” in our ancient Landarïan dialect.”

“The stone told you that?” Zerra asked, not sure if she was more skeptical or incredulous.

“Yes, and yours should do the same. It is some power they hold inside themselves. One day, I am sure your stone will talk to you and tell you its name.”

Zerra glanced into the dancing facets of the black stone and watched the unusual light as it thrummed out into the darkness. “And I had thought it just a simple stone my father gave me…” she murmured.

“As did I on my Berneisse. My father promised he would tell me of its significance one day. I assume that means about what Serein really is, for she is certainly more than a simple, precious stone.”

“Strange...my father said the same thing tonight, when he handed over this necklace. What do they know that we do not?” She asked, hoping Par would have an answer.

The Sealand prince shrugged. “All I know is that the stones are somehow connected.” He turned his blue eyes to stare into Zerra's. Their sudden intensity brought a heat to her cheeks and her heart to pounding in her chest. The prince shifted toward her, until he was a hairs-breathe away. He paused for just a moment, as if uncertain, before pressing his lips to Zerra’s. In the short time they kissed, Zerra realized the depth of the love the prince had for her.

Once the moment passed, however, Prince Par looked away, suddenly shy. “I am sorry. I should not have done that.” Par averted his gaze to the water in his discomfort.

Zerra chuckled softly. “Now even I do not have that audacity! But you should not apologize for something you meant to do—especially if you are to do so again.”

Par spun his head back around, shocked. “What!?”

Zerra grinned and stood up. “Maybe someday, I will be able to love you as much as you love me, Prince Par Fantill; but, until then, I want you to know, I will be waiting for the right day to accept your proposal. And that day will come. Be prepared to woo me.” Turning, Zerra fluttered away into the night, leaving Prince Par by himself to ponder her words.