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.
23. The Prince is Coming!
The Prince is coming!
~
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
A great carriage was followed by rows of horses, bearing the Chiefs of warfare, the closest associates of the Crown Prince. The streets were flooded by people who did not dare step near the path of the entourage.
Excitement was crisp in the air, murmurs and squeals rising from the common folks gathered about.
Then, the carriage halted before the manor of the Duke of Walterus, and the door was opened. Silence fell over the people as they were rapt and watched their coming Ruler step down from his mount.
Slick, dark hair cascaded down, disciplined by being tied at the nape of his neck; green eyes that looked intense, yet gentle; strong physique testifying that he had made the frontline of wars for their kingdom and rigorous training since the days of his youth; dressed in the suit of royalty: the Prince had the airs of a man of both absolute authority and kindness.
His butler, Weston, came to his side and placed upon his shoulder, a cape that was plated with fur one end and was clasped to the other by fobs of chains across his chest. Prince Rayzenn gave his man a gracious nod and a smile towards the people, before he strode down the path of stone towards the Estate.
The four Chiefs of War: Aaron, Nate, Zebedee and Reid, who had followed his carriage on horseback, dismounted their stallions and came to escort behind him, two men on either sides.
The Prince looked up to see that Head Knight Erion's men were assembled along the path, in the order of disciplined rows facing the pathway, poised and saluting. And at the foot of the stairway leading ahead into the manor, Duke Walterus was standing, in warm invitation.
The dark haired Prince met the man of the estate with a smile and a nod, receiving the same is response.
"It is an honour to have your presence here with us this morning, Your Grace", the wealthy Duke bowed.
"Much obliged", the tall, young man nodded.
"Would you be kind enough to stay for our lunch table?" the man of the manor asked, leading the royal into his courts.
"I beg your pardon, but I shall not overstay my duties today. I have much awaiting me at the Imperial Castle. Perhaps another time?" Prince Rayzenn smiled, making his way inside.
"Of course, sire, of course", the Duke nodded several times and hurried to lead his dynastic guest and the escort of Generals up the stairway leading to his office chamber.
The prince cast a gaze over his shoulder and the chiefs of war that made his company stood still, at the door, beyond which they would not pass. Then, only the Duke, the black haired heir to the throne and his butler Weston walked into the office for private discussion.
"Thank you again for paying your visit to my humble abode", the host smiled, and the prince nodded, observing the deepening of the man's wrinkles beside his eyes. "The pleasure is mine", he nodded.
The man of the household gestured towards the chair across the table and after Prince Rayzenn was seated, he settled himself. Only Bulter Weston was standing, behind the young man he was attending to.
"Had it been in your agendum to meet me here since last night?" the Duke asked, with an uncomfortable chuckle.
A hand swept over the dark hair spilling over his forehead, when the Prince answered, "Pardon me, but it was this morning that the Queen made mention of my coming here."
There was a shade of downcast disposition in Duke Walterus' eyes, which he quickly masked. "Of course, of course, she was the one to send me word of your coming", he hastened to say.
Prince Rayzenn knew that the man had held high hopes of the Prince's personal interest in his daughter, but marriage was the last thing he wished to commit to, let alone one with a woman he scarcely knew.
"Have the people left from about the estate?" he asked, looking over the window.
"Yes, Sire, the common folks are gone; the streets are clear now", the Duke said, before withdrawing his gaze from the outside.
"Wonderful. I have brought with me the favours mete for your forbearance of mentioning the vigilantism in your news. It is imperative, given the circumstance that the people cannot be unsettled by word of our Knights being slack", the Prince said, resting elbows on the table and knitting his fingers.
"Ah", the Duke chuckled, "You needn't ever go such a far way and bring me these gifts, Your Majesty. It is an honour to be of service to you, regardless. I am patriotic and would not suffer to publish a word at adversity with you!"
"Yes, but it is my duty to grace those that are in my favour", the Prince smiled graciously, before turning to Weston. The butler, in response bowed, as if he was about to take his leave from the chamber, saying, "I will take the presents from the carriage and have them submitted with the household while you continue with your meeting."
"My dear daughter Charlene shall receive them from you and then join our conversation", the Duke said.
Once the butler had left, the man of the house turned to his royal guest and said, "Sire, the Head Knight is here at the manor as well. Would you like to meet him now?"
~