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.
8. The Calm before the Storm
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM
~
The avenues about the Town square,
The Town of Crimsonton,
Kingdom of Velicia,
Early hours of the morning,
The Eighth Day of the Month of November,
Thirty Third Year of the Reign of King Jesse Crestings
~
There was something about a mysterious team of men discomfiting gigantic, ravenous monsters in the dead of the night and taking off before dawn that tickled the fancies of every woman in the Kingdom. It was their daring and the evasion of praise that called their fascinated curiosity.
And, of course, it was inevitable that every lady wished a fantasy of enticing romance in their imaginations with this unknown entity.
"The vigilantes protect us better than you!" a man taunted from the crowd around Amelia, earning the attention of the knights.
Head Knight Erion spared a glance to their direction, only briefly, before proceeding away silent and unbothered, raking a hand through his dark hair. That single electric moment, however, had invoked an inference in the young damsel of long chestnut coloured hair:
His eyes were blue, as fair as the vigilante's. And he was in the regime of knights, dressed in similar garments.
Amelia Lunadynn stood there in mesmerised shock, hope rapidly building in her heart regarding the identity of her secret rescuer passing before her very eyes. She could barely hear the rushing sounds of the tides of people all around her.
Just then, she jolted at the touch of someone's tap on her shoulder. The maiden looked up to see Mister Frevour giving her a smile. "Don't worry, he's far too composed to let a little bit of taunting get to him", the man winked.
A slow blush heated her cheeks as she stuttered, "I wasn't so worried about his feelings-"
The blacksmith clicked his tongue. "Of course, child. I know that look in your eyes", he chuckled.
"No~", she whined, covering her face. "It's not what you think!"
There was a boisterous laugh in response, before the man returned his senses to business. "I have all of Lady Hildeth's orders smithed. I cannot allow you to carry them in entirely at a go, so I will have my lad take them there for you", he said, casting the material he had forged into a large box.
"Thank you very much, Mister Frevour", Amelia smiled, eyes turning to see Roger, the blacksmith's seventeen year old son, striding into the place, unassuming of the burdens that were about to be dumped upon him.
"Take these to the Hildeth Boutique, son", Mister Frevous said to the young man, before making his way off to the furnace side and proceeding with his pending orders of forging weapons and materials.
Amelia took a share of the burden and Roger took the greater portion. "Let's go", he smiled at her and the two made their way down the street towards their destination.
"It must be a lot of tension Knight Erion is harbouring with the talk of vigilantism sweeping the whole Kingdom, since he's the officer of our province", the damsel mused to her companion.
The lad shrugged in response. "Well, he should be careful on duty. It isn't easy when there are these vigilante forces beyond the law that are competing with their work. He's usually far too composed to allow such news to bother his poise. But then, I believe he is as agitated as he is this morning because he is heading to Duke Walterus' place."
Amelia frowned in response. She knew that the Duke's main business had to do with the Hall of Publications, handling all the news that was to be broadcasted. But it was odd that he was to meet the knights there.
"What business does he have at the Duke's? To report on the details of the vigilantism so it can be cast in the paper?" she asked.
Roger shrugged. "I don't know, maybe he's just going there to meet the Duke's daughter. He always seems to be lingering around that company of people with any excuse to be there."
The damsel of long, brown hair nodded slow, feeling a heavy weight rest in her chest.
The daughter and sole heir of Duke Walterus, Charlene, was known across the kingdom for being the most elegant and beautiful dame of the country. She would inherit all her father's wealth and company and was the alluring object of any available bachelor's admiration and desire.
At the age of ten, her father had arranged for her to be betrothed to another high standing noble's son. Ever since she had turned sixteen, she had begun seeing him officially and was being courted.
However, about a month ago, the whole kingdom was blazing with the news that he had broken the engagement with her. Although there was much sympathy and consolation for the beautiful young lady, this incident had rendered the lovely Charlene available for fresh prospects of marriage.
Thus, Amelia knew that there was no chance that Head Knight Erion would not be one amongst the interested for her delicate hand.
Amelia did not know why it afflicted her for a moment's worth that someone she was had fancied for a single night of rescue was given to love another.
"They must all be quite close", Amelia nodded, slow and pensively. "Why is he agitated to be there though?"
"I think there was news that the Prince may be visiting our town. He will be at the Duke's place. So perhaps the Head Knight will have to present himself before the Prince for answers about the vigilantism? Confrontation? I'm not sure", the young lad shrugged his shoulders.
"I see", Amelia nodded.
By the end of the conversation, the two had reached Lady Hildeth's Boutique. Roger placed the box of items by the porch, before rising to his full height and flexing.
"Thank you for the service~", Amelia whined, knowing that the load was going to be heavy and hard to carry indoors.
"A pleasure", the lad tipped his chin. "I think I should be leaving. Good bye, now!" he smiled.
"Good bye! Have a wonderful day!" the damsel of auburn hair called, waving as the dark haired young man sprinted off.
Then, she mustered what little strength she had to lift the box up in her arms and pushed her way into the Boutique, innocent of all the tempest that was brewing indoors.
~
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