Wars of the Heart
Amelia Luna-dynn is a young damsel of unassuming character. However, there is a deadly secret she harbors: that she is the daughter of a forbidden race, a tribe despised by the royals of the Kingdom. She is the sole survivor, discreetly living an unseen life as a commoner. But there are scars on her back that betray her origin, requiring her to cleanse herself in order to stay alive and unrecognised. With such reins attached to her race, it is impossible to find someone who would love her despite the dangers of her origin. But one night, when at the verge of being eaten by beasts, she is saved by a mysterious man from the grasp of death. Curiosity drives the damsel to chase love. Despite being downtrodden, she stumbles upon the opportunity meeting with high society by joining a Book Club run by the beautiful daughter of the Duke, Charlene Walterus. Amelia makes friendships with nobles and soon comes close to a romance with a man she suspects to be her secret rescuer, but is hopeless that his heart is far gone in the arms of the duke’s daughter. Will she win a wedding with the man of her dreams? But most importantly, will her fantasies of a perfect marriage come true? Or will she suffer a strained marital relationship, with unrequited feelings, far from the heart of the one she loves? Excerpt: That night, he was exhilarated to have married the woman of his desires. But Charlene had told him a bothersome fact about the origin of his newly wedded wife that he could not shake off his mind, for he knew she would have told him, had it been true. The tall man stepped into Amelia’s chamber and found her seated at the rim of the bed, blushing. The very sight of her innocent disposition had always brought him the insane urge to sweep her up in his arms and protect her. But before they would make love, there was an important question blaring at the edge of his mind. “Y-you’re here”, her soft voice was almost breathless. She rose to her feet, but rested against the wall, shy and nervous. “Amelia”, he tasted her name, drawing close to her. Tenderly placing a finger under her chin and lifting her face to meet his, he gazed into her eyes and asked, “Is it true that you are of the Celeste Clan?” There was silence in response and fear in her eyes. She did not deny it. A strong feeling of hurt enveloped his chest, when he realised that she was no different. Charlene’s words about her were not simply contemptuous lies of jealousy planted to his attention, but the raw truth. ~ Amelia gasped when he rammed his fist against the wall in the absolute pangs of frustration. It was like it burnt his senses to think that she would deliberately hold something as significant as her origin from him, regardless of all things of his secrets that he had shared with her, while they were yet secret lovers. She knew the fault was hers, but she had been too scared to relay, for she had loved him far too much to lose him. “Why did you hide this from me?” he breathed, voice cold and low and deadly, colored by his unpronounced rage. His face was dangerously close to hers, such that she could hear his very breath, seething. Tears began to pierce her eyes, threatening to fall. She had never meant to deceive him. But in that moment, she was afraid. Heart throbbing loud enough to be heard, her lips were quivering and she shivered. When his gaze swept down at her frightened disposition, there was a flicker of tenderness in his eyes. But it lasted not even as long as a moment’s worth. He was cold. He did not confront her for the secrets she was keeping, but silently withdrew himself. There were many things she wished to say in apology, but she could not find her voice. And by the time she could speak, he had left her chambers. Tears flurried down her face. She could not believe that her fears had ruined the very first day of her marriage. It was the day she had wished to divulge her secret to him, but it seemed like it had already been out.
25. Accusation of the Mystery
Accusation of the Mystery
~
The Estate of Duke Walterus,
The Town of Crimsonton,
Kingdom of Velicia,
Fair morning,
The Eighth Day of the Month of November,
Thirty Third Year of the Reign of King Jesse Crestings
Duke Walterus was a silent partaker in the conversation between the Head Knight of the West Wing and the Crown Prince that would soon reign over their province. It was passive and calm for the unassuming beholder, but seething with rage beneath the exterior.
"But is that not precisely why they must be there? To protect the people?" the dark haired Prince was cold.
Just then, there was a soft knock at the door, before the knob turned and opened to allow the entry of a lovely young lady.
The gentlemen looked up in response to see Miss Charlene Walterus step into the chamber, dressed in exquisite garments, long golden hair flowing down her back, needing no decoration of fashioning; the very incarnation of beauty, competent enough to take the beholder's breath away. Her eyes were fair brown and intense, like it would hold one's gaze till they were compelled to submit their heart to her.
The Duke's mood lifted when he his eyes met sight of his dear daughter. A smile spread itself over his face as he rose from his seat and introduced her to the heir of their throne, speaking, "Your Majesty, this is my daughter Charlene."
The golden haired beauty bowed to the dark haired Prince before rising to her poise and extending a hand.
"She will soon be the heir to the Hall of Publications and will reign by my side", the man of the mansion said, his heart swelling with pride and joy.
There was a formal smile on Prince Rayzenn's face and a nod, before he took her hand, "A pleasure to meet."
"As is it to have you here. Thank you for blessing us with your esteemed company", Charlene responded, with a dreamy voice. The duke was well pleased in the spectacular presentation that she was, for it was a very vital impression.
Once they had dropped hands, the young lady took a place in the chamber and was seated comfortably.
The Prince turned his attention to the Head Knight, his face resuming the intense agitation of their previously interrupted conversation. "Well? Have your men not found it in their senses that they must stand against risks to protect the people?" he repeated, voice bearing a mild hint of rage, but cold composure overall.
Erion's hand raked through his lush, curly dark hair, like he was more aware of the people present in the room now that there was added company, before he held a fist to his chest and admitted, "The wrong is laid to my responsibility. I will be in personal attendance, so that this shall not recur. For the time being, I am obliged to say that there have been no casualties. My men and I have ensured that all people are safe in the protection of their abodes."
"But your men taint the duty of Knighthood with their incompetence", the Prince said, resting folded arms on the table. "The security of the people could be at risk if the beasts had made their way into the village. Your hand is not sensed behind this deed."
"I am sorry, Sire, we are facing a severe scarcity of worthy men enrolling to knightship. There are none that can pass the training and very few that qualify to meet the standards. We are still seeking better suited youths for the work of the Kingdom", the blue eyed Head Knight reported.
Duke Walterus took a sip of his sweet tea, whilst the conversation proceeded forth.
"And most of those holding ranks presently are amongst your personal companions?" the dark haired prince asked.
"Only one; all others are duly from their own courses", was the reply.
The Duke silently watched the exchanges. He knew that apart from Knight Roden, all others were men from the towns and villages of their province, who had qualified without recommendation.
They were close accomplices, however, to the Head Knight, for the men oft went to the tavern together. Erion was not a man that maintained formal distance from his subordinate, but there was a chance that the other men were acquainted with him since childhood.
"But that isn't the end of our confrontations" the Prince said. "Is there any news or confirmations you have found regarding the vigilantism being wrought in the wild?"
"Forgive me, Sire, but no. The men posted for patrolling and tracking the vigilantes have failed to fulfil their duties", the Chief Knight replied.
"For fear of the beasts?" Prince Rayzenn raised a brow. Duke Walterus choked on his tea, coughing and holding his linen against his nose and mouth.
"I am afraid so, Your Highness", the Knight replied, regretful. It was evident that his calm was beginning to thin, for Miss Charlene was present there in the chamber, and the man was always most conscious of her view of him. The interrogation was rendering him disgraceful.
"Isn't it unfortunate that your men cannot match up to the standards of these unknown men that can protect the people and still take off before dawn, in order to remain secretive? Do you not feel the burn of knowing that there are men out there, in the wild, more competent that your knights, that you could rather employ to the benefit of our Kingdom's defence? And that your men could scarcely even track their identity, let alone parallel their works. Your incompetence is as unsettling because I have been confronting you in such way for far too many times to even count. And your replies have been the same every time."
With every word that shot out of the Prince's mouth, there was tension finally building on Knight Erion's face, like he was lost for words to apologise or defend himself and his anger was boiling, for his image was tarnished before the daughter of the estate.
Then finally, the dam broke and his response flowed out in a raspy voice, "Have you never considered, Sire, whether my men and I could very well be the vigilantes?"
The Duke coughed, bewildered at the statement and turned to steal a glance at Prince Rayzenn's face, reflecting pure indignation.
~