Chapter 2

People were standing at the road and glaring at the coach charging towards the castle. And Issia wondered if they knew that she sat in the coach too.

During the ride her mind wandered to many questions she did not have answers for.

The stately of the stone castle towering above the city dominated her view all the way long. As they reached closer, the building seemed to be greater and greater. She noticed a few wings and towers, but she knew there were many more, hidden from her eyes. Impressive, the place where she shall stay.

They eventually reached the end of the road and were forced to stop before a huge iron gate, blocking the open entrance to the castle and its premises. Two soldiers in attendance opened the gate with a bow the instant they noticed their arrival. The coach entered the courtyard. When it stopped and the royalty alighted, all the people around them bowed to greet the royal family.

However, when Issia showed up, she saw surprise in their faces, pure and tangible. She had assumed her arrival was announced, but now she doubted the courtiers knew who she was and why she came.

Two soldiers guarding the castle entrance, wearing the same blue uniforms as their comrades at the gate, opened the door and the Royal Family with Issia in the wage came inside.

Issia stood there for the first time in her life and what she saw really amazed her: marble floor and staircases, great golden chandeliers, red carpets... Now she was certain where the money from the high taxes ended. And she wasn't pleased by that thought at all.

Soon a woman approached them. She wore a simple pastel-green dress and her brown hair in a modest hairstyle. As the queen told Issia, she was her chambermaid.

"Aline, show it here to here," she asked.

Issia wondered what Queen would accost a maid by her name, but didn't dig into the thought any more.

Aline bowed to take permission to leave and Issia followed her when she headed for the stairwell. For a while, the rustle of their gowns was the only sound filling the silence.

"I hope you don't consider it too nosy to ask for the reason for your arrival. Everybody who heard about you was very curious, either was I," she admitted. "Their Majesties and Their Highnesses didn't tell much about you, just to get ready for you to come. No one knows why they brought you here."

"No," Issia shook her head and addressed the maid with a benign smile, "it's not nosy at all. But first I have a question for you. What do you know about Prince Kydean?"

Aline raised her eyebrows. "Did you come here to steal His Majesty's heart?"

Issia chuckled. "The sun would rather start to rise at the west than he would give me his heart. No, I came to marry him."

To the least sentence Aline answered with a small courtesy. Of course, she was her future queen. According to their tradition, when an heir of the throne was announced, people greeted him or her with a bow. But Issia didn't appreciate the motion. She didn't like to be seen as an authority.

Issia ignored the need to tell her to straighten the instant she bent. "So what is he like?"

"Honestly, His Majesty is of complicated nature," she revealed. Issia already found that much on her own. "He spends most of his time with the Army. Some days he leaves to join them in the morning and returns when the sun falls. Some days he does not even come home. No one has ever seen him with a girl. Due to his schedule, I believe he hardly has time to meet with some. I assume you will have a lot of hardship with him."

Issia agreed. Yes, she would certainly have.

"But I believe he is a good person."

When they reached the right floor, Aline led her to a door with a man standing before it. His red hair caught her eye the instant she saw him. A moment later she noticed also his strong build and the sword by his thigh.

'My name is Alden," he smiled so widely that his lips revealed white teeth before he bowed to her lowly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

And she perceived. "The pleasure is mine," she replied with a smile too. "But why do I need a guard? This place isn't safe?"

He shook his head. "I'd say it's safe enough. I'm here just for a case you might need me guarding your back. I might be as well your companion and friend, if you wish so."

He seemed nice, but she did not expect the last sentence to be said. She realised she would need at this place as many friends as she can make, not to feel lonely. Issia nodded her head. "Thank you. I appreciate your offer."

He showed her another honest smile from his arsenal and pointed at the door behind him. "Would you like to see your chambers?"

When Issia agreed, he gallantly opened it.

Her chambers were arranged in the same way as the rest of the castle. Huge, resplendent and breathtaking.

They consisted of a few separated rooms as a bedroom, sitting room, bathroom, dining room and even a dressing room.

She walked into the dressing room, opened a big closet and saw beautiful gowns, each from expensive and soft clothes. She even found a chest of drawers, each filled with various jewellery and tiaras. The luxuries they had given her pleased her, but she wanted to refuse them. She had no usage for most of them. Still, she admired the work of the tailors and jewellers who made them.

Issia felt bad for indulging in riches she didn't ask for, while some others were barely surviving. She did not know yet what to do with them, but she was certain to use their value wisely.

~

When Issia was done with the survey of her rooms, Aline showed her the regal library. The room might have been ten times larger than the city library she visited countless times, which was already big, and occupied two stories. She was fascinated by the number of books the castle collected. For some time, she just wandered through the maze of shelves, looking at the titles and authors and almost got lost. Meanwhile, she grabbed a few books she was interested in, none she read before, seated herself at the large mahogany desk and immersed into a story.

An hour before she was to accompany the Royal Family at the dinner, Aline called her back to her rooms to adorn her for the mutual meal.

"What do you want to wear? Organdie? Brocatelle? Silk?" Aline asked as both of them were standing in the dressing room where against one whole wall was planted a big closet full of dresses.

Issia imagined silk caressing her skin and it was decided. Aline brought out a gown Issia fast fell in love with; it was one the prettiest dresses she ever saw.

"I think this one will make it," Aline stated. Issia couldn't do otherwise but agree.

After Issia put it on, she looked into a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Issia assumed her clothes would need to be a little amended for her figure, but this sleeveless salmon silk gown, remarkably, fitted her perfectly. The high collar was curving around her neck and from there, the plunging narrow décolletage was halting below her breasts. The bodice as well as nearly half of the skirt, embarking on the hem, were garnished with big gold embroidered flowers.

Then Aline seated her before the dressing table and grabbed a silver comb from its surface.

Just as she brought her fingers to her hair, she lowly exclaimed.

"It's so long and thick, although so soft on touch. Incredible."

Issia subtly chuckled. Her former hairdresser also never stopped wondering about it. Neither did she herself.

When Aline was done styling Issia's hair, her long locks were falling over her back. Two braids starting from above her forehead met at the centre of her head to create a crown. And from above her forehead to the temples was rimming the hairline a golden head-chain, continuing to spread just below the crown. From the chain's eyes fell many other thin chains adorned with beads, reaching till the middle of her hair-length.

The hairstyle was so unlike any other she used to wear before. Her mother wasn't a votary of simplicity. Although she was generous and kind, funding every project she realized. And the jewellery she never saw before, was sure wasn't from Mawyr. Most likely imported from Southeast where, as she was told, the culture was so different. The piece was simple yet so intricate and she adored it.

She looked extraordinary, exotic and beautiful. For the first time since the proclamation she felt like a princess. She was a duchess, just a step below from the royalty, yet she never felt this majestic. It was for the head-piece she felt more like herself.

After adding small golden earrings in the shape of a flower to trim her ears, Issia eventually left her chambers.

She realised she hadn't mapped the space and soon would get lost. Fortunately, a servant passing by showed her the way. He left her in front of a huge wooden door.

She didn't like the feeling of entering on her own. But there was no one else and she had no other choice.

When she unconfidently cupped the handle in her fingers, she unawares heard footsteps from behind, heading her way. She turned her head to find Kydean standing behind her.

He wore only a mere white shirt, pants and a very regal garment, embroidered pastel green silk robe covering his shoulders and arms; something that did not match together. Even his hair was a little straggly.

When she first saw him, he was perfectly trim. In comparison to his current appearance, he looked like a completely different person back then. He also stank from sweat now. Issia realised she hadn't seen him for only a couple of hours and see, what he accomplished in the meantime.

"Hesitant, are we?" he asked. Issia met his gaze and shook her head lightly, not willing to acknowledge it. The beads on long chains swung. "Then why are you still looking at me?" His tone suddenly changed from concerned to harsh, "You are blocking the way and I am hungry."

Issia believed he was caring for a moment, then apprehended he was only toying with her. Nonetheless, she certainly was not letting him manipulate her. She was playing against him and had all the advantage of surprise. Now, it was time to change the strategy.

Issia bowed low and purred, "I am immensely sorry to make you waste one minute of your valuable time by something so excessive as waiting, due to my incapability to open the door for Your Patient Greatness."

He chuckled and a grin spread across his face. "Come in, finally."

With a smirk of satisfaction hanging on her lips, she pressed down the handle.

The door opened and Issia saw a large room illuminated with golden chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling and the latest daylight penetrating to the room through large glass windows. In the room lay dozens of long tables covered with white tablecloth, but only one was set. Kydean's parents and a girl, approximately of Issia's age, were already seated and waiting for them to join.

The King was sitting at the head of the table with the Queen and later also Kydean, when he took his seat, by his sides. Issia sat down next to him; that was the only place left to sit. From across the table, the bright face of Princess Yvette smiled at her.

"It's so nice to finally meet you."

Finally. Issia wondered whether Princess Yvette was truly that eagerly looking forward to her. She clearly looked delighted to see her.

Honestly, Issia did not think much about Princess Yvette until this moment. But now, when she was getting to know her, she liked her and her cheerfulness. With the warmest smile she could manage, feeling barely half as joyful as Princess Yvette's, she replied, "The pleasure is mine.'

The Princess was pleased. "You won't believe how much I wanted to have a friend here," she confided.

Issia rejoined to her words with another smile. Then the words hit her. Had she felt lonely? In the castle inhabited by hundreds of people?

Yvette suddenly sniffed. Then sighed and her attention turned to her sibling. "My dearest brother," she addressed him in a sweet voice, a foretaste of affectionate nagging. "You reek of sweat and I'm asking myself if your excessive time spent in the exercise room isn't an obsession." Yvette wrinkled her nose. "Couldn't you wash yourself before coming down here? Smelling your odour is a torment."

Issia was still debating about what she said. He stunk of sweat, yes, clearly refining his skills in martial arts or keeping his body in shape. But was it his obsession?

Kydean frowned.

Yvette smirked.

"I didn't have time to take a bath, as well as for proper training. I am not going to change my habits only because my fiancée is here," he defended himself with slight annoyance in his voice.

"Then I'm glad to give you one more reason: you are soon becoming a king and there will be no time for you to swing your sword. Your priority will be finding a solution to prevent the war. Better get used to it."

"Why don't you take hold of some of my duties as my upcoming regent since you have so much spare time?"

"It's time for you to learn to take responsibility."

Kydean sighed, looking at his parents. "Why cannot Yvette take the throne? She would make a better ruler than I would ever be."

"You know it cannot happen," his mother joined the conversation.

Kydean seemed really upset. His fist connected with the table, "Damn the prophecy." Everything on top of it shook. Then the whole room was buried in silence.

"So you do not care about it anymore?" Yvette asked.

"Of course I do. It just troubles me."

"You never asked for help."

"Why are you contradicting yourself?"

"As I know you, if I offered my help, you would pile me with everything you want to get rid of."

He stated at nowhere and in a quiet voice Issia would never imagine to belong to him, he emitted, "You never imagined I might not be ready to let the world depend on me."

"But you-"

"I just matured." He turned to his father and there was no sign of vulnerability when he voiced loudly, angrily, "Moreover, it is all your doing, Father. Why can't you fix what you wronged?"

His voice as cold as his sons. "That wasn't a mistake. That you don't approve doesn't mean that my decision is wrong. I explained it to you already many times."

Kydean expressively waved a hand toward her. "She is still a kid."

Issia met Yvette's eyes, who addressed her with a heartening look, saying, 'Don't mind him, everything is fine'. She tried to believe her.

At least someone realised her presence and that she might have not been feeling comfortable.

"Meet me after dinner," the King ordered him. Kydean groaned.

The rest of the dinner was carried in peace. And silence. Every time the cutlery contacted with a plate, the fact hit her again and again. That she had witnessed a family argument she was somehow related to, although didn't understand a word of it. A part of it, the most painful one, she did. She was young, as well in her eyes too young for marriage, but it gave Kydean no right to treat her deficiently.

After everyone finished their food, Yvette stopped Issia before leaving. "I need to talk to you for a moment. Go with me to my rooms."

Issia wasn't sure how to borrow some time and not to seem suspicious. Because for the sake of her sanity, what she has in mind needed to be done. "Can it wait for a while? I need to take care of something."

Yvette raised her eyebrows, the corners of her lips following. "Sure. Afterwards, come there right away."

Issia believed she already knew, but it didn't stop her. So she nodded and left.

Inconspicuously she followed the king and his son, always from behind a corner. Surprisingly they did not say much on their way, and what they did, they said so quietly she didn't hear it.

She lost them behind a corner, as she heard the sound of slamming a door.

As she reached the corridor, for a moment she was anxious if she would find the right door. She had no idea what room was behind each of them; if she knew, it would be a lot easier to find where they hid. But it wasn't difficult, after all. As she walked along the corridor, she found a door from where behind it rang out loud, angry voices. She stood close to it, did not even need to press her ear against the wood to hear what they were talking about.

"…you could have let her die! Sacrifice one person for the thousands that will die in this war. There was no need saving her."

The other voice stood calm, trying to explain the reasons as if multiple time already. "Issia is too precious not to live. That's why she is going to become the queen. She might solve this."

Issia scented the conversation would have something to do with her, that is why she followed them here. At first, she was confused about whom Kydean mentioned, and now, when the king cleared it was her, it frightened her. What did they plan to do with her? And why did Kydean mention her dying? She knew he wasn't fond of her, but she wasn't aware his despise for her reached the point where he wished her dead. At had she done that he found her hateful?

Kydean's voice rose in tension. "And what if she doesn't?! Then all your doing is in vain. People, not only our people, are going to be massacred!"

"He would have invaded these lands even so. She is a weapon we wield against him."

Who is this he?

"Neither of us two wants to be in this position. And this marriage. She is still a child. How do you expect her to be a military strategist and commander? While moreover, she knows nothing about war. If she were a princess, I'd let it be, but noble women are worthless."

Such hater was spoken out of his mouth. She felt tears garnering in her eyes and knew that if she hears any more critics from him, she would surely yield into them.

"Not every victory in a war needs to be fought out in a killing field. She is smart and loves this land, why don't you give her a chance?"

"Why don't we just give her to him, so we can finally make peace among us?"

"What a naïve you are. His desire to rule the world cannot be sated. He is a brute. If she gets in his hands, he would use her, harm her, torment her to withdraw every piece of information he needs to create a plan how to stab us in the guts the mightiest way possible."

"She doesn't know anything."

"He possibly believes she does. While he'd use all the violent methods to get to know from her what he needs, she could be crying in agony, but he would never let her die. This is what people like him do. How they treasure those, who have a value for them. And you wish for her to experience it?"

There was silence. And then quiet "no".

"I wish I wasn't related to this thing at all," Kydean said more silently, "neither to her. She complicates everything."

She ceased to be aware of what they were talking about. Her head became misty and the only thing she paid attention to was not to tear up. She soon realised he didn't care much about her, moreover, after what she heard now, it seemed his feelings for her were close to the hater. And the way they thought of her as if they owned her...

A while later, she wasn't cognizant of the time passing, a voice rang out in her ears as if coming from a distance.

"Issia, here you are. I assumed you—" Yvette came closer and took an immersed look at her. "As a daughter of my father I should have scolded you for listening to his private business, but since I know your motives which I fully comprehend, I cannot do otherwise but after seeing your upset, ask what is wrong? Did you hear something disturbing?"

Hurt resounded when she spoke, "Why do I learn all this after seventeen years of my life? Why my mother could not tell me anything?"

"Come with me." Yvette wrapped an arm around Issia's shoulders in a sister-like gesture and led her out of there.

After the first few steps, the door behind them swung open.

Issia froze in shame. When she gathered her courage, she dared look back, just to see both Kydean's emotionless and the King's shocked faces. She was certain they inferred what she had done.

She lowered her head and avoided their gazes. They both already saw her red eyes and wet cheeks. It added to her humiliation.

"Have you learnt what you came here for," Kydean's unyielding voice resounded.

She lifted her chin. "Not at all."

"She has the right to know what part she takes in in this regal issues," Yvette upheld her. "With your permission, I am going to explain her everything. From the very beginning."

The king eventually approved it.

Thus Yvette led her to her chambers.

Issia took a brief look at her furnishing and found it looking very similar to hers.

In her living room, Yvette rounded an upholstered sofa and patted the backrest from behind. "Have a seat."

Issia thankfully sank into the cushions.

"I'm going to order a tea; I think you need it."

Yvette passed by, reaching out for a rope hanging from the ceiling. Throughout the room resounded ringing of a bell attached to it.

The Princess settled herself on an armchair.

A moment later a servant entered the room, carrying a tray in her hands. She placed it on a low-lying table positioned between them, made a courtesy and left the room inconspicuously.

Yvette grabbed the teapot from the table and poured two cups. She passed one to Issia.

Both raised the cups to their lips. While Yvette only took a sip and subsequently set it back at the table, Issia gulped the whole cup at once to calm her nerves.

During the time Issia drank, Yvette left the room and returned with a scroll.

"This story is about you. It holds the information you have been seeking your whole life, so make yourself comfortable, because the truth is going to be revealed."

Issia took a deep breath. She held out for this knowledge for years, and now, when it was at her fingertips, a part of her feared to hear it.

"Before you start, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she agreed.

"Your brother seems not to like me much. What–?"

Yvette shook her head lightly. "I can assure you that you have done nothing wrong. With certainty I can even say he likes you a little; when you entered the dining room together, he looked quite contented. I know him. If your presence made him angry, his mood would have been much worse. You are just someone who adds to his troubles and duties and he wishes to be free from them all.

"I know my brother is hard to deal with and these last occurrences are certainly not something you would imagine to happen. I am sure Kydean is not somebody you would marry from your own will. He may be mean sometimes and is completely inexperienced in the matter of courting, but once he lets someone closer, he is nice. Just give him some time. I hope you get along. And now listen to what I have to say."

Issia took a deep breath.

"Many years ago, the relationship among all kingdoms was nice. They traded with each other and helped each other to a better economy. However, with the accession of the current King of Cybric to the throne, everything worsened. He took it in his head to conquer all the kingdoms on the continent." She untied the string that held the scroll rolled and spread the paper on the wooden surface. It was a map. "Here," she pointed at a place on a small continent overseas, which she knew well from her geography lessons, "is a town where you come from. You're considered something special in Ammarot." Her homeland. "I did not get exactly what, but your people valued you much.

"When you were born, big celebrations broke out and many people from your country gathered to celebrate. Although it was in Ammarot only, it wasn't possible not to get known of you. The King of Cybric figured to get you. It wasn't known what he aimed to do with you, but he is notorious. In the intention to save you, my father came to hide you in Mawyr before the King of Cybric could kidnap you. Nobody understood Father's action. For our people, it was a foolish act that enraged the King of Cybric. For people from Ammarot, it was only an abduction, for whatever reason he stated. They couldn't understand that somebody could harm you. Since then, they never allowed anybody foreign on their lands. Bellair the same. The King of Cybric didn't give up upon finding you. When my father refused to hand you to him, he declared the war. However, he would have done it no matter if you were or were not in his power.

"Your people believe you are blessed by the gods themselves, and with all your given power, you can be used as the mightiest weapon to win this war."

The truth was finally out. She should have been upset about all the new information she learned, however, she was distracted by one single word. Weapon! She wished for a peaceful life, not even imagining she could once become a military weapon.

She realised the King, whom she despised believing he was responsible for the suffering of thousands, was the man to whom she owed her life.