a Pledge of Union E-Book

Fia Helleberg

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Caladon series
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 492

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

A romantic fantasy adventure full of magic, creatures, and passion Virion is a powerful fae lord from the country of Caladon, who has come to the human realm in order to form an alliance with great house. Ariana is the outcast in the family, the only one born without magical abilities. She does not thrive within the confines of convention, and as Virion begins to spend more of his time with her, things get complicated. § When Ariana finds herself in the mythical land of Caladon, filled with magic and terrifying creatures, she realizes that there is more to things than she'd realized. When the creatures start to behave strangely, and rumors of attacks from her homeland reaches her, Ariana suddenly finds herself in the eye of the storm. Things escalate, and she struggles with the mysteries as her relationship with Virion becomes deeper and more complicated. Part 1 of the Caladon series

Leseprobe

PRONOUNCIATION GUIDE

CHARACTERS

Ariana Gaelreos – Ahr-eeh-ah-nah Geyl-reh-uhs

Virion – Veer-eeon

Kaylenna – Kay-len-uh

Renna – Reh-nuh

Caelan – Kay-lahn

Taranth – Ta-rant

Dominik – Dom-eeh-nik

Tristan – Tris-tahn

Eldrin – Ell-drin

Aerith – Ay-rith

LOCATIONS

Anarosa – Ah-nah-rou-sah

Eriga – Er-ee-guh

Croide – Kroy-duh

Caladon – Kall-ah-duhn

Aeros – Ay-ros

Aerona – Ay-rouh-na

Niva – Nee-vuh

Essari – Ess-ah-ree

Camar – Caa-mar

Aviva – Ah-vee-vah

Vorese – Vor-ees

Vianòr – Vee-ah-nor

Ennetèa – Enn-eh-tey-ah

Athrea – Aah-threy-uh

Naelar – Nay-lahr

Morana – Mo-rha-nah

CREATURES

Bruxa – Bru-ksah

Striga – Stree-gah

Vikram – Vee-kram

Harpy – Har-pee

Hanako – Hah-na-kouh

Quasin – Kwaa-sin

Illinit – Eell-een-eet

Sprigga – Spri-ggah

Nixa – Neeh-ksa

Kappa – Kah-ppuh

GODS

Krea – Kreh-ya

Nyfos – Nee-fos

Agyn – Ay-ghyn

Odea – Ouh-de-ya

Rhami – Rhaa-mee

OTHER

Ennèan – Enn-ey-uhn

Aeronian – Ay-rouh-nee-uhn

To my middle school teacher, who said I was morbid and weird. To Thord, who loved me for it. I made it.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 1

“You know Mother will cut your head off if you show up to tea like that.”

Ariana snorted and frowned at her younger sister. Lucille sat at her dressing table, perfectly powdered and without a hair out of place in her beautiful updo. Her chocolate-brown hair shone in the intricate braids pinned into a complicated hairstyle, and she scanned her appearance in the mirror. The usual sparkling red gem hung around her creamy white neck.

Lucille was five years younger than her, but more beautiful than she could ever dream of being. Ariana turned to her mirror and glowered at her reflection. She wasn't ugly, far from it. But her unruly, copper hair never wanted to behave and it hung down her shoulders in a curly, tangled mass. Her clothes, simple after the morning's ride, were wrinkled and stained, unlike Lucille's neat and smooth afternoon dress.

“If not that, I'm sure Mother will find another reason to do so,” Ariana muttered, attempting to braid her thick hair at least.

Lucille did not answer but powdered her nose before getting up and smoothing the already smooth dress.

“You’re not making it any better you know,” her sister said. “Come on, let’s not keep Mother waiting.”

Ariana reluctantly got up and followed her sister out of their shared bedroom.

They walked through the winding house, past servants who nodded, down all the stairs and on towards the drawing room. Voices were heard from within the room as they approached and Ariana almost groaned when she realized that her mother was not alone. Lucille walked into the parlor and Ariana followed her with slouching shoulders.

“Oh, Lucille dear, I'm so glad you came!” the Duchess; their mother said, standing up and waving her colorful fan. The older woman's dress was impeccable, tight, and flattering over the tightly laced waist, buttoned up to the neck with precious silver buttons, and with flowing heavy skirts.

“Mother,” Lucille greeted and walked to one of the sofas to sit opposite her mother's two friends, each with a cup of tea.

Ariana waited while her mother turned to her and, as always, pursed her lips.

“For the sake of the gods, girl,” the Duchess hissed. “Can't I even expect you to look decent when I have visitors? Has your deterioration gone thus far?”

Ariana straightened, ignoring the usual stab of hurt and looked defiantly at her mother while she curtsied.

”I dress as the situation deserves, Mother,” she said and went to the small table where the tea was waiting.

”What would the Duke say if he were here?”

Ariana had no idea, as her father was very rarely at home. More often than not he was in Eriga, together with the other members of the Anarosa Senate. Running the country was, and had always been, far more important than staying at home with his wife and children. Her mother sighed loudly, but Ariana did her best to ignore everyone present and poured herself a cup of tea, before turning to sit in an armchair nearby.

She looked out of one of the huge windows that illuminated the airy and feminine salon while her mother resumed her seat and continued to gossip with her friends, now with Lucille's participation. Outside the sun was shining, and Ariana thought about the morning's ride. She had ridden far, further than usual, and the hot summer sun had burned at her back. She smiled to herself. Her horse, Totilas, was a lively stallion with a strong will and temper. He was a free spirit, a feisty and cheerful companion, and she wished that someday she could be as free as him as they flew across fields, through forests and across roads. But just as she always had to return to convention, Totilas too had to return to cramped stables and small pastures.

“...I heard that the boy Paenar has been betrothed, apparently to a southern girl,” said one of the hat-wearing ladies, and Ariana stiffened as she turned to face them.

“Really?” her mother said with no small amount of disapproval, and Lucille shot a spiteful glance at Ariana.

“What kind of girl is it? Who is her family? Does she have any powers?”

“Lowborn,” the other woman said. “I've heard she's quite broadly talented, but that's probably an exaggeration.”

The gathered women laughed derisively in chorus and drank the lukewarm tea.

It had been a long time ago, and even though Ariana's feelings for Patryck had died years ago it still stung. Mostly out of envy, mostly out of anger. Talented... Her own talents had never appeared; her greatest failure. Not a single tiny flame of fire could she conjure, not a single gust of wind.

“Lucille, dear, it's a bit stuffy,” her mother said as if she had heard Ariana’s thoughts. “If you would be so kind?”

“Of course, Mother,” Lucille smiled, making a discreet but elegant gesture with one hand. The breeze that swept through the room, blowing away the stifling heat, made the two ladies exchange impressed looks, and the Duchess puffed with pride like a pompous hen.

“Does she have a wide range of abilities?” one of the ladies asked, and the Duchess nodded.

“She has. She has great talent but has shown a particularly great aptitude for the elements,” their mother said and Lucille sat up straight and proud, smiling at the praise. “Lucille is already sought after in the marriage market, and we hope for a very special offer in the near future,” she continued, and her companions leaned forward to hear more but Ariana stopped listening.

She had no interest in talk of marriage and relationships, knew that none of it would ever concern her. She was not beautiful and serene like Lucille, had no powers like Lucille, nor was she virtuous and unspoiled like Lucille. Or any of her older sisters, for that matter, who had already managed to marry both influential and powerful. She was simply trash, and her prospects were thus rather bleak. But that didn't matter to her, she had no interest in power, status or dynasties. She wanted nothing more than to live in her own little world, to be outdoors in the forest or sing, paint and read whenever the mood struck her. Perhaps that could be the case one day, when her mother saw Lucille, the last unmarried child, secured in an influential marriage that would bring status and wealth to the family. Maybe when Ariana was the only one left, the Duchess would give up once and for all and start pretending she didn't exist.

“Your ladyship?” A servant entered the parlor with a letter on a silver tray, and the ladies interrupted their gossip. The Duchess reached for the letter and gasped as she looked at the unbroken seal. Ariana's eyes narrowed as she watched her mother break the seal with a trembling hand and open the letter. She read it while everyone in the room held their breath, anxious to find out what it contained. Finally, the Duchess made a sound of relief and placed a hand over her chest.

“Well, it's about time,” she said with a breathy laugh.

“What does it say, Mother?” Lucille asked and their mother smiled.

“This is the message we have been waiting for. He is coming.”

Lucille gasped and her cheeks flushed. “Is it true, Mother? Has he asked for my hand?”

“Not yet,” the Duchess replied, her smile victorious. “But it's just a formality at this point. He is coming to see you, my dear. The marriage is as good as done.”

Lucille sobbed, and Ariana rolled her eyes.

“Who, dear?” one of the friends asked, looking like she was about to burst with excitement.

The Duchess’s smile widened. “Lord Virion, of Aeros.”

§

“A high fae?” Miranda said in amazement. “How did your mother manage that?”

Ariana shrugged as they walked through the lush forest.

“No idea. But mother is proud on the edge of bursting, and Lucille has been crying with happiness all afternoon.”

“I can actually understand that,” Miranda admitted. “It wasn't that long ago that another girl was shipped off to Caladon, or am I misremembering?”

“Sophia Valeria,” Ariana nodded. “She was betrothed to a fae merchant about a year ago.”

They continued in silence and Ariana crossed her arms. It was not uncommon for fine human families to marry off their sons or daughters to the rich and influential fae. The humans gained valuable contacts in Caladon, the status of having family ties to the land, and the fae were rumored to be very generous with their dowries. The fae, in turn, secured their bloodline because, despite their superhuman abilities, they were trumped by humans in one aspect. Perhaps it was their punishment for never dying of old age, their mockery of mortality itself, but it was common knowledge that fae had far more difficulty reproducing than humans. Therefore they would marry humans, buy them as breeding stock as Ariana chose to see it. Fae used to pick the women who had shown extraordinary magical powers, probably to inherit that power in their bloodline.

But this was not just a high fae but a Lord at that. Not just a Lord, but the Lord of Aeros, the largest territory in Caladon after the northern regions of Niva. Not just a powerful Lord, but a powerful conjurer if the rumors were true. She sighed. It wasn't that she begrudged her sister such an incredible match, but now she would never stop hearing about it, never stop being compared to her sister. It would last for the rest of her life.

“I wonder if she is afraid?” Miranda said as a soft wind blew through the treetops.

“Afraid? Of what?” Ariana asked.

“To leave home, to leave Anarosa, and settle in the fae kingdom? That's no small change and from what I've heard, it's dangerous over there. Beautiful fae, certainly, but full of monsters and creatures that can crush a puny human as easily as they would a twig.”

“Who knows, it might not be that bad,” Ariana mused. “Maybe it's just an exaggeration? I don't know anyone who's been to Caladon, everything I've heard comes from my governess.”

“My grandfather was in Caladon as a young man,” Miranda said with a grave expression. “He said that what we have been told here on the continent seems like bedtime stories compared to reality.”

Anxiety washed over Ariana. “Really?”

Miranda nodded. “He said there are beings and creatures so horrible that many people have lost their minds. A beautiful country, but dangerous.”

“Then it's a good thing none of us have to move there,” Ariana said, nudging her friend. “And Lucille will have her fae Lord to protect her.”

Miranda laughed. Ahead of them the line of trees began to thin, and they could hear the mundane sounds of life in the city towards which they were heading.

“When is he arriving?” Miranda asked.

“In two weeks’ time,” Ariana replied. ”He will stay for a month, at the end of which I suppose he will kneel before Lucille and ask for her hand.”

“I hope I get a glimpse of him. I've never seen a fae up close, especially a Lord. I wonder if they are as handsome as they say?”

Ariana chuckled. “I guess that remains to be seen. I'll make sure you get a chance to take a closer look.”

Miranda gave her a thoughtful glance. “How do you feel about Patryck?”

Ariana gritted her teeth. The news that Patryck was now engaged had gotten to her more than she would have expected. She had thought that the years had healed the wounds his betrayal had torn open in her, but it had hurt to hear it.

“I... don't know,” she sighed.

“He's a bastard,” Miranda said, unusually harsh. “I hope he treats that poor girl better than he did you. Otherwise, you'd better pray she makes his life a living hell.”

Well, one can hope, Ariana thought. Patryck had once claimed to love her, had done everything to meet with her and be in her company. He had flattered, supported, and taken an interest in her and she had fallen like a log. She had given him exactly what he wanted: her body. He had used her for months before finally pulling the rug out from under her feet, and sneeringly telling her that someone like him could never be interested in marrying someone like her.

“I think sin will eventually punish itself,” she said, and Miranda grinned wickedly in response.

As they entered the bustling city, the market was in full swing and Ariana and Miranda strolled, laughing and chatting as they always did. There were merchants everywhere, mostly native to the country but some travelers from the south, east and west could be seen. An occasional fae could be glimpsed in the crowd but the wealthiest traders stuck to the larger cities, to Eriga or Croide. Miranda pointed excitedly to a tall, imperial merchant in exotic clothing and with distinctive pointed ears. The fae male looked serious and stern, and his clothes were made of fabrics and materials that looked almost alive, so different from the crisp and stiff brocades and silks of humans. Ariana looked at him with a newfound curiosity. Was this what the Lord that Lucille was to marry might look like? The fae, the merchant, had shoulder-length, golden blond hair and was presumably a hand taller than the tallest men. He was truly beautiful with clean, chiseled features and angular, slightly slanted eyes. She wondered what he traded? The fae had many goods to offer, for a lot of money of course. Exclusive fabrics, magical decoctions, natural resources, and unique plants. They had artifacts and objects loaded with magic that humans craved above all else. Humans in turn had fewer things to offer. Metals, minerals, and gemstones were apparently the only things that could not be productively extracted in Caladon, and so they were imported from human lands. That, and their fertile women of course.

Ariana tore her gaze from the male and walked with Miranda to one of the open pavilions where a dark-skinned woman in bright, colorful clothes was selling paintbrushes, exclusive paints and canvases of all sizes and formats. Ariana fingered at the accessories. She already had plenty but would love to add to her colors. However, her mother had increasingly cut her allowance, and she no longer had much to work with.

“Are you buying anything?” Miranda asked, but Ariana shook her head.

“I can't afford it, unfortunately,” she said, and Miranda nodded in understanding.

She felt a pang of guilt. Miranda, the daughter of a kitchen maid who worked with the farm animals, had never had money for pleasures and suddenly her own worries seemed palpably trivial.

“We can buy saffron pastries at least,” Miranda said, pulling her out of the pavilion. “That we can afford.”

Ariana's face split into a wide smile and they began to walk through the brimming and noisy crowd towards the town's confectioner.

The saffron pastries were delicious, as they always were, and they ate them giggling where they stood as people moved around them.

“...There has been another attack, on the southwest coast.”

Ariana pricked up her ears and turned around. Two women were talking as they felt and smelled the fresh fruit laid out on a wide, rough wooden table.

“Another one?” the other asked her companion, who nodded.

“The same marks as last time. My husband was talking about it with the bailiff, I overheard them in the study the other night.”

“It's terrible. I hope they catch the perpetrators soon.”

“Indeed. It's probably some band of thieves trying to make a name for themselves. It's only a matter of time before they end up behind bars.”

The women moved on, and Ariana turned to Miranda. Her friend didn't seem to have been listening but licked her fingers and sighed in satisfaction.

“I have to go back,” she said. “I'll get a beating if I'm late feeding the horses again.”

Ariana brushed her hands off on her skirt and nodded.

“Let's go,” she said, hugging her friend before they headed back home.

Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Ariana sat next to her sister in the main salon. Lucille was dressed and powdered as never before; her dark hair pulled back in tight curls high on her head. Her dress was perfect, a soft blue creation with a high collar and airy sleeves that were neatly buttoned at the wrists. The wide skirts rustled as she moved, and she was so tightly laced that Ariana wondered how she even managed to breathe. Her own dark green dress was stiff and tight across her body, and the corset made it difficult to move. She usually ignored the restrictive garment but today her mother had left no room for compromise, and she sat stiffly, breathing in short bursts. Her unruly hair was up in a tight knot, nowhere near as elaborate as her sister's updo, but this was not her day to shine. It was Lucille's, who sat next to her and trembled with anticipation.

The Duchess too was neatly dressed in burgundy duchesse and sat opposite them on the small sofa, her back straight as a rod. The large clock was ticking and even the servants seemed to be holding their breath. The air was hot and sticky, and Ariana was sweating in her heavy, unwieldy clothes. She had no idea what she was doing here at all. Surely it was Lucille that this Lord was here to see, not her? She might as well have been out in the forest with Totilas so that her sister could have been courted in peace.

The clock ticked on, before it finally struck. Midday. The sun was high in the sky and the Lord should be here any minute. Ariana squirmed, and her mother frowned at her. Then the big doors suddenly opened, and their butler stepped in and cleared his throat.

“His Grace Virion of House Linelle, Lord of Aeros.”

The Duchess and Lucille stood quickly and Ariana did the same, looking curiously at the door where the butler stepped aside.

Virion, Lord of Aeros, walked into the room as if he owned it. He sucked up everyone's energy, was too big for the room. Not only was he physically large, taller than any man she had ever met, but he exuded power, strength, and life. Lucille made a quivering sound. The Lord was handsome, incredibly handsome. His shoulder-length, soft brown hair was shiny and hung in soft waves, and his clothes were not of this world. They were figure-hugging, made to accentuate his well-built body but looked mobile and practical at the same time. They were made of a soft, billowing material that almost shone yet there was no wrinkle, nothing out of place. The pants were black, and the subtly embellished tunic was dark blue. The shiny boots seemed polished, and his deep blue eyes were steady as he looked at Lucille and the Duchess.

“Ladies,” he said in a deep, melodic voice. “It is an honor to be a guest in your home. I am grateful.” He bowed, infinitely elegant, and the Duchess actually blushed.

“The honor is ours, my Lord,” she said and sank into a deep curtsy, quickly followed by Lucille. The Lord straightened and his gaze fell on Ariana, who hastily and rather clumsily curtsied as well. His elegant eyebrows rose before his eyes returned to the Duchess and Lucille, who had risen.

“May I present my youngest daughter, the lady Lucille,” the Duchess said and Lucille took a step forward, her cheeks delightfully flushed and her eyes sparkling. The Lord stepped forward, towering over her. He took her hand and kissed it, before looking deeply into her eyes.

“My lady. Your mother's letters, descriptive as they were, have not done your beauty justice. You are like a sunrise.”

Lucille blushed even more and curtsied again, and Ariana had to stifle the snort that came out of her automatically. The Duchess seemed not to have heard anything, but the Lord turned to her again.

“And this is...?” he asked. His face was like granite, no emotion crossed it. Just heavy seriousness.

”This is Ariana, Lucille's older sister,” the Duchess said. ”She will...be present in the house during your stay.”

The Lord stepped up to Ariana but did not take her hand or kiss it, just looked at her. She returned his stare, meeting his clear but expressionless gaze.

“I understand,” he said. “An honor, of course. Will your husband also be joining us?”

Her mother laughed nervously, and Ariana felt the defiance like a jolt inside her.

“I'm not married,” she said, raising her chin. Something glittered in the Lords blue eyes but his features did not move.

“I understand,” he said again and nodded. ”An honor, my lady.”

Ariana didn't answer, and out of the corner of her eye she could see her mother's face go from nervous to murderous. She made a threatening gesture towards her and Ariana pursed her lips.

“Likewise,” she said, almost rudely, and her mother made a half-suffocated sound. One would have thought she was having a heart attack. But the Lord blinked, and the corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly before he turned back to the Duchess and Lucille. Ariana sagged slightly, her knees trembling. She needed to get out of here.

“Some tea, Your Grace?” the Duchess chirped, inviting him to sit. He nodded and settled into one of the armchairs while Lucille sat on the sofa and turned to face him.

The Duchess served him and Lucille, while Ariana stood forgotten in the middle of the room.

“How was the journey, sire?” the Duchess asked, also sitting down.

“Very good, my lady,” he replied. ”The winds were kind to us, and we enjoyed good weather all the way.”

The Duchess answered, but Ariana stopped listening. She had done her part and was no longer needed by either her mother or Lucille. She quickly nodded to no one in particular and then began to walk out of the room. No one stopped her.

§

After five days, Ariana feared she would go insane. She had endured endless walks in the large, landscaped park on the estate. She had endured boring lunches, dinners, and tea parties in the drawing room. The Lord was correct, polite, and said exactly what he was supposed to say, praising Lucille's beauty and paying compliments that made her swoon. He did not make a single mistake but moved and spoke with unbreakable elegance and composure. He made Ariana's skin crawl. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but he was so... empty. Five days, and not a single genuine smile. Not a single laugh. He was just as serious and morose as he had been on the first day of his visit, and it didn't seem to get any better than this. Lucille, of course, was already head over heels in love and in the evenings, when Ariana finally got away from the Lords incredibly boring company, she was forced to listen to Lucille recount every single conversation they'd had during the day.

Lucille in turn did everything that was expected of her. She was sweet and polite and only ever asked about him or Caladon. Their mother took every opportunity to describe all of Lucille's talents and had already made her youngest daughter give several demonstrations. Lucille had conjured up beautiful dancing flames, water horses and stone sculptures. She had moved furniture, changed the color of her dress, and made a dying plant bloom again. She had conjured up wind that had danced in the dry Lords hair, who hadn't moved a muscle but politely applauded each display. Ariana wanted to vomit. She would lose her mind if she had to continue this without a single moment to herself. She needed air, she needed out.

She looked out of her bedroom window, watching the Lord’s servants and the well-groomed, armor-clad guards posted around the courtyard. It was already late at night, but the guards stood motionless like statues as they had for the entire time they had been here. If they rotated their schedules, switched with other guards, it was nothing she had seen or heard. They conducted themselves with the same unnatural stillness as their Lord, so unlike the restless guards that were part of her own household. Their armor was a shiny silver, so bright that she wondered if it was some other, unknown metal. It looked thin and light compared to the heavy but well-polished plate of the human guards. Yet she had no doubt that the beautiful, streamlined armor was hard as stone, as diamond.

Ariana sighed and ran her hand through her hair. Her scalp ached from days of tightly twisted updos and she just wanted this miserable courtship to end, for the Lord to propose to Lucille and get it over with. It was basically decided anyway. She sighed again. Tomorrow would be filled with more walks and boring lunches, and so would the next day. In a week's time they would make a trip to the nearby town to show the Lord around, and at the end of his stay there would be a big and long-awaited ball. But otherwise, nothing but monotonous conversations about the weather, clothing, and the climate of Caladon awaited her.

Annoyed, she blew out the candle and went to bed. Tomorrow she would get up at dawn and go for a ride, she didn't care what her mother would say. Maybe she would lock her up, and even that would be better than this horrible arrangement.

Chapter 3

The feel of the wind in her loose hair was almost intoxicating. Ariana laughed loudly and urged Totilas to go even faster, who eagerly increased the speed. The trees blurred around her, but she knew these paths as well as the horse and they flew over logs and rocks without hesitation. Totilas jumped over a fallen oak tree and Ariana enjoyed herself to the fullest, enticed by the feeling of the strong horse beneath her.

They galloped for a while longer, then slowed to a trot and finally a walk. Totilas gleamed with sweat and was panting but he held his head high with pricked ears, ready at any moment for the next gallop. Ariana stroked the sweaty neck, murmuring softly to the animal who gave a satisfied snort. She let go of the reins and looked around the lush forest. She loved being out here, it gave her peace and quiet and she couldn't think of a better way to start her day.

They had gone as far as the big pond, and as they approached the water she dismounted and let Totilas drink his fill. She took an apple out of the small saddle bag, sat down on the ground beside the horse and took a bite as she looked out over the black water. The sun shone through the canopy, creating golden pillars that danced across the surface of the water. She marveled at the beauty, at the beauty of the world and ate the apple at a leisurely pace. Although it was still early in the morning, she was convinced that her absence was already noted, but she didn't care. This was worth a scolding. She gave the apple crisp to Totilas who gratefully ate it before she laid down on her back and closed her eyes. She started humming on an old song about love that she couldn't relate to, but it was beautiful and she loved to sing. Since she had been born without any magical abilities, she had been forced to find other ways to express what she thought and felt, and singing had become one of her escapisms.

“You sing?”

She almost howled, sat up and turned around. Totilas continued grazing and did not seem at all bothered by the Lord walking towards her. How on earth could he have snuck up on her? She had not heard a sound.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, and he raised an eyebrow.

“I went for a ride,” he said, stopping a few feet in front of her. “As did you, it seems. I heard your song and didn't want to scare you.”

“You did anyway,” she muttered and stood. He watched her with the same expressionless gaze as before, yet something in it was different.

“You have a beautiful voice,” he said, and she squirmed a little.

“I didn't mean for anyone to hear.”

The Lord looked surprised, and it was the first time she had seen him change expression.

“Why not?”

“Because,” she said, the defiance like salt in her voice. She sounded like a child; she heard it herself but couldn't help it. She had ridden here to get away from him, not to spend more time with him. To her great surprise, the Lord began to smile.

“You are impertinent,” he remarked, amused. ”Why, if I may ask?”

She sighed and looked away. ”I wanted to be left alone. I came here because I wanted to get away.”

“Ah. Is this your refuge?”

She nodded reluctantly.

“What are you running from?”

She eyed him with suspicion, but he still smiled vaguely and looked at her with encouragement. She hesitated but then raised her chin, smoothed out her wrinkled skirt and went to take Totilas reins.

“I must be home before lunch,” she said and mounted the horse. A bit further from them she could see a handful of the Lords guards and several horses.

“Of course,” he said, still steadily watching her. “May I escort you?”

She shook her head and shortened the reins.

“I prefer to ride alone,” she said, unforgivably rude, and put her heels to the horse’s sides. Totilas, who she never had to ask twice, lunged and she almost lost her balance. But she recovered quickly and pushed further, trying to get away from the fae who was still standing by the pond behind her.

§

Ariana had been right, the scolding that awaited her was something else. She endured a good fifteen minutes of her mother's ranting and raving about how she was bringing dishonor to the family, before Ariana was ordered to wash and make herself presentable. Now her hair was once again in a tight knot, and she was wearing a bulky, dark gray dress. She wondered if it was deliberate that her sister was dressed in pastels and bright colors while she was stuffed in dull, drab clothes. But she didn't really care. They could use her shortcomings to enhance Lucille's delicate beauty; after all, it was her sister who was getting married.

Ariana, her sister, and mother had already sat down to lunch when the Lord came in, and he looked... different. Nothing tangible really, but his stone mask seemed a little less definitive. He bowed and then sat down at his assigned seat.

“Has your morning been pleasant, sire?” the Duchess asked as the servants served them a simple lunch of cold cuts, crisp vegetables, and fresh fruit.

“Very,” he nodded. “I went for a ride and explored the land. Your country is incredibly beautiful.”

”How nice,” her mother said and Ariana looked down at her plate, fixing her stare at the slice of ham and the chilled, herb-spiced potatoes.

Cutlery rattled and everyone began to eat in silence. Ariana picked at her food and drank the crisp wine whilst trying to wish herself away, out of this room.

”Did you find your way back home?”

She flinched and looked up. The Lord observed her with an almost invisible smile, and she felt her face heat.

“Yes, thank you,” she said quickly and put a grape in her mouth.

“But Ariana, you didn't mention that you met Lord Virion during your ride,” Lucille chimed, but Ariana heard the ice underneath the soft words.

“It was just a coincidence,” she said, avoiding her sister's gaze.

“The lady Ariana has a lovely singing voice,” the Lord continued, and Ariana wished she could slap him.

“Yes, she compensates for her shortcomings with other talents,” her mother said, and Ariana felt her face turn an even deeper shade of red.

“Shortcomings?” the Lord repeated and Ariana interrupted her eating to scowl at him.

“Our dear Ariana is the only one in the family born without... abilities,” her mother explained with a smile. “She has spent her entire life finding other amusements.”

If there had ever been a time when Ariana wanted to sink through the floor, this was it.

“I see,” the Lord said, sipping his wine. “That explains the lovely singing.”

She looked up at him but there was no sarcasm in his face, no malice. He put the cup down and continued eating. The Duchess smile was nervous and she fiddled with her cutlery, but the conversation seemed exhausted and they continued eating in silence.

§

“You just met him by coincidence?” Lucille hissed as they entered their rooms the same evening. “If it was so briefly, how could he have learned so much about your amazing singing voice?”

Her sister looked murderous and Ariana rolled her eyes.

“He was just teasing. It really was a coincidence. When he got there, I rode home. That's all it was.”

“If you jeopardize this for me, Ariana...” The words were almost a snarl, and Ariana watched as the flames in the large fireplace flared and grew.

“I will not,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “Whatever you may think, Lucille, I hope as much as you do that your Lord will propose, the sooner the better. You're perfect for each other, and there's nothing I'd rather see than you sailing off to Caladon with your Prince Charming.”

Lucille continued to glare at her, clearly not trusting her words, and Ariana threw her hands up in defeat.

“Believe what you want,” she muttered and headed for the door.

“Where are you going now?” Lucille spat from behind her, but Ariana ignored her sister and hurried out into the hall. She paced through the long corridor, turned towards one of the servants' stairs and hurried down. She slipped past the large scullery and the servants' dining room before making her way to the courtyard, and on towards the stables.

The household had begun to shut down for the evening, and the stables were empty and dark. She walked through the airy building to Totilas stall, which she entered. She stroked the beautiful animal's dark coat and breathed deeply, trying to shake off the unpleasantness of the day.

The summer evening was stiflingly hot, and filled with a sudden irritability she undid the countless buttons that held the tight bodice together, got out of the garment and felt her skin finally breathe. She just stood there for a moment, in the rustling, wide skirts, corset and chemise. She let the night, the darkness and the calm cool her down. She remained in Totilas stall for quite a while, seeking support and closeness from her silent companion before she unwillingly started walking out of the stables, towards the house again.

In the courtyard it was almost completely dark, only a few torches still burned in the night. The household guards were mixed with that of the Lords, and she crossed her arms and started walking towards the servant's entrance again.

“Are you still awake?”

She jumped so high that she almost fell to the ground, cursing as she tried to regain her balance. The Lord came walking out of the shadows and her anger flared.

“What do you want now?” she snapped. “Discuss my shortcomings in further detail?”

He held up his hands in an apologetic gesture.

“I apologize,” he said, stopping in front of her. “It was not my intention to put you in trouble. I assumed the Duchess knew of our meeting.”

“You assumed wrong,” she said, and made an effort to walk past him.

He interrupted her with a soft voice. “For what it's worth, I find your mother's comments about your... shortcomings to be distasteful. I have no desire to make you feel diminished.”

She stopped again, slightly taken aback. He looked at her with an unreadable expression and she stared back, feeling rather stupid.

He smiled, ever so slightly. “And I meant what I said. You have a lovely singing voice.”

She just kept staring at him, unsure of what to say. He laughed, and she thought she would fall to the ground out of pure shock.

“Good evening, lady Ariana,” he said, bowing before he left her.

She stood there, uncertain for a moment. Then shuddered as she realized with horror that she had been talking to him half dressed only in her underwear. She almost groaned and hurried back into the house.

“What's wrong with me,” she muttered to herself as she hurried back to her room.

Chapter 4

Ariana did not go for any rides the coming week but endured the boredom of the Lord’s courtship in silence. He didn't talk to her much in the days that followed, instead he focused his attention on Lucille. As did her mother, and Ariana didn't mind fading into the background. However, she saw no more of his rare smiles, heard no more laughter. He was the perfect courtier, polite and unreadable as a brick wall. No emotions ever showed, never a hint of anything other than proper, refined courtesy. Lucille seemed to be in paradise.

When the day came for their excursion to the city, Ariana was dressed beyond absurdity in large, ruffled skirts, a tight jacket, and an impractical hat attached to her hair. The day was smothering hot, and she felt like she was dying just by walking out the doors. Lucille, dressed in a similar way, seemed completely unbothered and walked towards the spectacular carriage while chatting with the Lord. Their mother entered first, and the Lord politely took Lucille's hand and helped her into the carriage. She beamed at him. Ariana waited for him to enter the carriage as well, but he remained standing and turned to her with a questioning look on his face.

“Is there anything missing?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No, not at all, I just...” she mumbled, feeling like an idiot. But he just held out his hand to her, offering her the same polite help as he had done Lucille. She walked towards him, took his hand and got into the carriage. His hand was large and surprisingly calloused, as if he had actually worked in his life. Or handled weapons.

She sat down next to her mother, and the Lord stepped in and sat next to Lucille before they set off. Ariana fanned herself almost desperately, sweat pouring in her too tight and warm clothes. Lucille and her mother giggled and gossiped, and the Lord took part in the conversation with nods and follow-up questions at just the right places.

“The Duke and our sons have promised to return home for our ball,” the Duchess said with a satisfied smile.

“I look forward to meeting them, it will be a pleasure,” the Lord said, and the Duchess beamed.

“The ball will be the greatest event of the whole season, if not the year! I have many friends who are very eager to make your acquaintance, Lord Virion, many friends indeed!” The older woman laughed, and Lucille nodded in agreement.

“My friends are almost dying of curiosity!”

“Have your acquaintances no relations with others of my people?” the Lord asked, and the Duchess waved her hand.

“Of course they do, just as we have contacts with others... from Caladon. Trading partners and the like, but a man of your stature... it's only natural that you would attract such interest.”

The Lord gave their mother a smile. A moderately stiff one, Ariana thought as she continued to fan herself frantically.

“Are you all right, my lady?” the Lord asked suddenly, turning towards her. Ariana straightened with surprise and put the fan down.

“I'm fine,” she said. Her mother gave her a long glance and she added: “Thank you for your concern.”

“It's a warm day,” the Lord noted, holding her gaze. “It is easy to get overheated. You must take care of yourself.”

“There's nothing wrong with Ariana, she's just being dramatic,” the Duchess laughed, and for a moment Ariana thought she caught a glimpse of annoyance on the Lord’s stern face, but it was gone a moment later.

“How is the climate in Caladon?” Lucille asked as the carriage rumbled on. “Is it true that it is very cold?”

“Not at all, my lady,” the Lord replied, turning to Arianas sister. “Anarosa is indeed further south than the realms of fae, thus fall and winter are very mild here. In Caladon we experience a more dramatic version of the seasons, but there is beauty in all of them. Autumn is colorful and mild, and the winter sparkles like diamonds. In spring the forests come alive again, and the discomfort that may come with colder temperatures is worth the sacrifice.”

“I hope it's not too cold in the winter,” Lucille said with a shy smile. “I don't know if I could stand being so cold.”

“There are many ways to keep warm,” the Lord replied. “And there is no shortage of fireplaces in my domains.”

Their mother chuckled, and Ariana looked out the carriage window, at the surroundings she had never seen covered with even a small amount of frost.

“I have never seen snow,” she said without thinking, and the Lord turned back to her.

“Would you like to see it?” he asked, and Ariana felt everyone's eyes on her.

“I... It looks so beautiful in paintings I've seen,” she said, and to her chagrin she felt herself blushing. “I wouldn't mind seeing snow sometime in my life.”

“Hopefully you will have opportunities to visit Caladon,” the Lord replied. “Winter would certainly impress you, and in the southern domains it is milder than if you are in Niva.”

“Hopefully we will all have occasion to visit you in Caladon, Lord Virion,” the Duchess said with a coy smile and the Lord once again turned his attention away from Ariana, who was sweltering in the oppressive heat.

“Indeed,” he agreed.

She felt sick, she needed to get out of the cramped carriage, needed air and water. She picked up the fan again and began whisking it in the air as the journey continued with further small talk.

The city was bustling despite the heavy heat, and they walked around for hours showing the Lord all the sights. The people around them stared wide-eyed and whispering at the foreign male, the fae Lord, and Ariana couldn't really blame them. He was like a lion in a pack of cats. Everything about him, from his grace, the way he moved, to his elegant and luxurious clothes exuded authority and power. His magnificent figure towered over people, and wherever he went people stepped out of his way. The Duchess and Lucille oozed with pride, at the prestige of having such a prominent guest in their company. Ariana walked behind them, dragging her feet, while Lucille pointed out museums and theatres, studios and shops. The Lord watched the surroundings with interest, constantly asking about the history of the city and the buildings, the economy, and the culture. Lucille had even dared to take his arm in her grip, and it was clear to everyone where this courtship was heading.

Ariana swallowed against the nausea, but her mouth was dry. She was soaked with sweat underneath the heavy clothes, and her head ached. It was too hot, and she needed to return home and tear off her dress, sit for an hour or two in the cook's cold room. But her mother and sister just chattered on as if they didn't have a care in the world.

Ariana stopped walking. Well, she didn't stop, her feet stopped moving by themselves and she stood in the middle of the street, panting and swallowing, and blinking against the dizziness and the headache.

“I have to go home,” she mumbled to herself and turned back, not bothering to announce her departure. If she could get to the carriage at least, where she could unbutton her dress, whose collar was high and tight around her neck.

“Lady Ariana? Wait!”

She heard the Lord call to her, but there was a flash of pain in her head and she ignored him. She pushed through the crowd rather unceremoniously in order to get back to the carriage, which was on the outskirts of town. She gasped, not caring about the offended exclamations that were uttered as she shuffled along, thinking only of getting far enough away to throw decency and decorum aside, all to cool off.

“Lady Ariana!”

She felt his big hand on her shoulder but tried to shake it off and continue walking towards the city wall, which was getting closer.

“Just ignore me,” she said breathlessly. ”I just need to rest a bit, by the carriage.”

Suddenly the Lord was before her, and his face was grim. “You are as pale as a ghost. I will escort you.”

She was about to protest, but he took her arm and led her firmly forward, towards the carriage. It was much more efficient, as everyone was making way for him without blinking. Ariana staggered alongside him, trying with all her might not to vomit. He held her arm in a firm grip and she kept going, not even bothering to think about where Lucille was. Once at the carriage, she slumped ungracefully like a sack of potatoes on the ground, and the Lord knelt before her. His brown hair shone in thousands of warm shades in the sun, and if she hadn't been so close to throwing up or fainting, she would have taken a second to admire it.

“You're overheated,” he said.

“Really?” she gasped. “What gave me away?”

The Lord snorted and placed a large, cool hand on her forehead. She tried to turn her head away, but his hand remained.

“You need water, and shade,” he said. “And you need to stop dressing in those ridiculous costumes. Don't you have the sense to dress for the season?”

His tone was almost harsh, and she pushed his hand away.

“I've been trying to say that for years, but nobody listens to me.”

The Lord shook his head, and in one of his hands there was suddenly a cup that had not been there before, and a pouring sound indicated that it was being filled with water from within. She looked at it with relief, and when he handed her the cup she drank in large gulps without protest. She looked down into the empty cup as it filled up again.

“Drink,” he ordered, and she obeyed. It took three large cups to quench her immediate thirst.

“Better?” he asked and she nodded, slightly dazed.

“Ariana, what are you doing?” The angry voice of the Duchess came closer as she and her sister emerged from the distant crowd. Lucille looked flustered and upset, and Ariana made an effort to get up.

“Not yet,” the Lord demanded, and his very tone made her comply.

Carefully, he undid the top buttons of her collar, letting her out of the stiff bodice just a little, before placing a hand on her shoulder and looking at her with an expression she could not read. The wave of cold that suddenly washed through her was probably the closest she had come to a religious experience. The coolness was everywhere, under her clothes, under her skin, and the relief was so great that she sagged a little more. The nausea disappeared, and the headache eased. Her dry mouth gave way and the dizziness left her when his hand did.

“How...?” Ariana asked, looking into those bottomless blue eyes.

“Magic,” he replied, and she frowned at him. He smiled softly, then rose and turned to her mother.

“I think lady Ariana needs to return home,” he said, and the Duchess nodded, albeit reluctantly. The Lord turned back to Ariana, gave her his hand and she stood with a stiff movement. Her mother's eyes were cold as ice and so was Lucille’s. Arianas shoulders slumped. She was only making things worse, whatever she did.

Chapter 5

The punishment had hurt. It had been a long time since her mother had beaten her, but her misdemeanor during the visit to the city had resulted in an anger so violent that she had actually been beaten. Her back ached, even though she knew it could have been far worse. When she was younger, her brothers had been thoroughly whipped by her father, and their backs had sometimes been streaked and bloody. A few red marks were nothing in comparison.

However, she had been forbidden to participate further in the Lord’s courtship of Lucille, and that was a relief. Her only order to follow for the rest of his stay was to stay out of the way, and that was a skill she had refined to perfection over the years. Ariana was relieved to escape the meals, walks and tea parties.

She had only seen their guest in passing over the past few days, and that was just as well. She caught occasional glimpses of him and Lucille from a distance, and the courtship seemed to be going just as it should. She wondered what Lucille would be like in Caladon? Would she fit in; would she perhaps be afraid? Would there be danger nearby or was her Lord strong and powerful enough to protect her at all hours of the day and night? That remained to be seen. Ariana tried to imagine what it might be like in Caladon, tried to envision the seasons as the Lord had described them, but it was difficult.

The crisp morning was blessedly cool as she tacked Totilas. No one else in the household was awake yet, only the gravel-eyed guards and the Lords straight-backed soldiers moved across the courtyard. Totilas chewed his hay while she prepared him for the ride. As she packed the simple food into her saddlebags, however, the calm was disturbed by the opening of the stable doors and the sound of soft footsteps. She peered over the stall door and held back a groan as the Lord came walking down the aisle.

“Good morning, my lady,” he said with a nod, and she reluctantly bowed her head.

“Good morning.”

“Have you recovered from your heat stroke?” he continued, examining her closely.

“Yes,” she replied, turning her back to him to put the bridle on the horse.

“I would love to join you on your ride,” he said behind her and she froze, turned, and glared at him.

“Mother would disapprove,” she objected.

“I shall make it clear that I gave you no choice,” he said, face stern.

She did not reply, but he didn’t break his stare.

“I won't be any trouble,” he added, and she shrugged in defeat.

“As you wish, but hurry up.”

Ten minutes later they trotted out of the gates of the great courtyard and Ariana steered the horse west, towards the vast forest that many miles later met the coast. The Lord kept a good pace, and his posture, his soft hands, conveyed that he was an excellent rider with many, many years of experience. They trotted for quite a while in silence, and without bothering to warn him she put Totilas into a gallop. However, he seemed to have quick reflexes, because before she had even landed in the first leap, he too had changed his gait and was keeping pace beside her. She increased her speed, and he did the same. She dodged trees, boulders and jumped over fallen logs, and he followed without difficulty. When Totilas finally gasped with exertion she slowed down, letting him catch his breath and the Lord did the same beside her.

”You are a talented rider,” he said, stroking the white horse he had borrowed across its neck, giving her free rein. Ariana only nodded in response. He said nothing more, and after a few minutes the silence became awkward, and she squirmed.

“Why don't you have any guards with you?” she asked and he turned his bright eyes to her.

“Pardon?”

“That day in the forest,” she continued. “You had several guards with you. Why aren't they here today?”

“I don't need any guards. Whatever would appear here, in your country... I don't need any help to defend myself. I had guards with me that day mostly by tradition, because it is expected of me.”

“Really?” she said with no small amount of skepticism. “So if a band of thirty robbers were to attack us, you could fight them all?”

“Yes,” he replied and she swallowed, wondering if it was arrogance or if he was actually that powerful.

“Why don't you have guards with you?” he asked, looking at her with something similar to curiosity.

“Because I don't want to. And because my mother doesn't think it's necessary.”

“Is your country that safe?”

“Not really,” she smiled, her voice taking on a bitter tone. “Lucille would never have been allowed to leave without guards, but I... I guess mother gave up or stopped caring years ago.”

“That sounds tragic,” the Lord said.

“Not very.” She shrugged. ”I can do what I want, and no one bothers me. I like being alone, it's nice and quiet and I don’t mind it at all.”

The Lord did not answer, and they rode on through the forest. It was not quite as hot as it had been last week, and the cool shirt and skirt she wore were simple and comfortable. They continued as the sun rose higher in the sky, and after an hour or so they came to a breezy clearing, where she stopped.

“I haven't eaten yet,” she explained when the Lord also stopped and gave her an inquiring look. “I always take a packed breakfast out with me.”

“I see,” he nodded, and gracefully dismounted his horse.

Ariana was actually quite agile on horseback, but compared to him she felt as clumsy as a wooden dresser as she swung her legs and skirts over the horse and dismounted. She pulled out the bread, ham and cheese from her saddle bag and then sat down on the grassy ground. Totilas, as usual, began to graze quietly and the Lord came around his horse, and sat down on the ground opposite her at a respectable distance. She glanced down at her food, having only brought enough for herself, but it seemed rude even by her standards not to share.

“I've already eaten,” the Lord said in a soft voice, as if he could hear her thoughts. She pursed her lips slightly, realizing how incredibly transparent she must appear to him, but began to eat. He looked around, observing the surroundings as she picked at her breakfast. He said nothing, letting her eat in peace and quiet until the small bag of food was gone.

“Do you like my sister?” Ariana asked after a while, and the Lord continued to gaze out into the rolling forest.

“Your sister is everything a young woman should be,” he said after a moment's consideration, and she snorted.

“That's not what I asked.”

“She is polite and well-mannered, just the sort of woman who would suit someone of my... position. Whether I like her or not is hard to say because I don't know her yet. But she has made a very good first impression.”

“How can you not know her yet?” Ariana asked, somewhat bewildered. “You have done nothing but walk, dine and drink tea together since you arrived.”

He smiled wryly and looked at her with amusement. ”How well do you get to know a person during organized walks?”

She could understand what he meant. The Duchess’s constant participation as a chaperone surely didn't help matters much.

“Aren't you...” she hesitated, not really knowing how to phrase the question without being rude. “Aren't you worried about marrying a human?”

“In what way?”

She fumbled for words. “If you... have children. Won't it be half-fae? Won't it be... mortal?”

He smiled. “In all the cases where the fae have joined houses with humans, the fae heritage seems to remain dominant in the offspring, so no. It's not something I worry about.”

Ariana nodded, fiddling with the grass.

“Do you think she will like it in your country?” she asked after a while, and his face hardened.

“My country will probably seem frightening to her. There is indescribable beauty there, but also dangers that many of you humans have never faced, that you need never even imagine. She will be safe in my home, on my lands, but beyond my borders... She will be protected, of course, but there are things I think your sister would rather not face.”

A shiver went down Arianas spine, but she couldn't help it, she wanted to know more.