Chapter 3 — **Chapter 2**
Vaelina
*Crack!*
*Four more days. Just four more days.*
I chanted the words in my mind as my knuckles pulsed with pain from the yardstick Thalyn had struck me with during yet another endless lesson. It wasn’t the worst punishment she’d devised in her quest to mold me into a proper lady. Compared to the sharp slaps of her hand or the nights I went hungry, this was bearable. Thalyn would never mar my skin—never leave a visible scar to taint my appearance—but she knew countless ways to inflict pain that left no trace.
“Pay attention, Vaelina. I won’t have you falter now!” Her voice cut through my thoughts, edged with frustration but tinged with something softer, a flicker of concern. The yardstick came down again on my other hand.
*Crack!*
I swallowed the whimper clawing at my throat, a knot tightening in my stomach as I straightened in the chair. Shoulders back, chin up, core tight and centered, just as she’d drilled into me. My gaze returned to Thalyn, the beautiful yet severe High Fae, as she pointed the same offending stick at the board before us. She did this out of duty, her role in shaping me for the people of Argyll. Just as it was my duty to become the best version of myself, to be wed to a stranger for the sake of an alliance. Thalyn’s methods were harsh, but I sensed a buried softness in her, a care for me and for the importance of this union to our kingdom.
Her piercing eyes narrowed. “Vaelina, list the qualities a wife fit for the Crown Prince must possess.”
“Yes, my lady,” I replied, forcing sweetness into my tone. “She must always be presentable in appearance and manner, well-educated and well-read, never question her husband’s judgment, speak only when addressed, and never defy him.”
“Precisely. Though that last bit applies especially to you,” Thalyn said, tossing her golden hair back with a sharp laugh. Her expression sobered instantly. “You must be flawless, agreeable. This marriage will forge a new alliance between our nations, a step toward restoring peace to our continent. If it fails, our people will bear the cost, and all we’ve strived for will crumble.”
I flinched at her words, the weight of them pressing down. “Yes, my lady. I will fulfill my duty for Argyll.” For a people I’d never met, a land I’d never explored beyond this fortress’s courtyard. I was endlessly told of my importance to this alliance, to this kingdom, yet my voice, my questions, were rarely heeded.
Thalyn sighed, her tone more resigned than disappointed. Her task had been near impossible from the start—transforming a lowly human, pulled from the ruins of a fallen kingdom, into a lady worthy of a High Fae royal. She’d raised me since I was five, shaped me over eighteen years, yet I couldn’t silence the longing to be more than a pawn in their intricate game of power. A fleeting memory surfaced: her worried face hovering over me as I writhed in my sheets during a nightmare, her voice soothing my sobs, praying to Bomris, God of Nightmares, for my peace. Those prayers, like so many others, went unanswered.
Rubbing my aching knuckles, I stared at my fragile human hands, marked by calluses from forbidden exertions. I clenched them into fists, jaw tight. *This* was my purpose. I could do this. I had to. If sacrificing my freedom could unite fae and humankind under a reign of peace, it would be worth the cost.
“Now, back to our lesson,” Thalyn said, pointing at the board. “Let’s revisit the history of Gambriel, the greatest ruling kingdom of our continent, and the customs you must master for this union—how a wife honors her lord at court, for instance, with gestures as ancient as our treaties.” Her words wove the past into my present burden, reminding me that Gambriel and Argyll had once saved Theralis from ruin, and now I must help make them greater still.
I nodded, feigning attentiveness as she droned on. The fortress walls seemed to close in, their enchanted stones casting faint, otherworldly glimmers—a constant reminder of the fae world I was meant to join, so alien to my human roots. *Four more days.* Just four, and I’d trade this prison for another cage.
After supper, I hurried up the stairs two at a time, eager to reach the sanctuary of my room. I needed to ensure no trace of last night’s forbidden venture remained. My knife belt was still tucked beneath the floorboard, black training garb stuffed in the laundry bin, boots hidden behind stacks of books. Thank the Gods. Finding more clothes suitable for stealth was a chore I didn’t relish. Dresses and heeled shoes were my mandated attire, another mold to fit into. I didn’t despise the finery—nor was I ungrateful—but I yearned for the freedom to choose, to move unhindered. Instead, I resorted to pilfering castoffs from guards or staff.
Easing the pins from my hair, I sank onto the stool before my vanity, massaging my scalp where they’d dug in all day. As I unbound the tight knot, a sigh escaped me. “Finally.” Brushing through my dark brown locks, my gaze caught on a small, worn book atop the stack by my bed—a tale of daring knights and distant lands, a portal to freedom I could only dream of. That longing gnawed at me, sharp and persistent. Would I meet the Crown Prince first? What would Eldrath, his court, be like? Would this marriage truly mend a war spanning decades? My mind raced with questions I couldn’t answer.
Shaking them off, I set the brush down. These things would happen, ready or not. In three days, I’d depart for Gambriel to begin my duty for Argyll. I fanned my face against the late summer heat and the anxiety coiling in my chest. I needed air.
Clutching the book to my chest—my one allowed luxury, as a good wife must be well-read, per Thalyn—I descended the tower stairs to the courtyard garden. Books were my escape when physical flight was impossible. Settling on my usual bench, I traced the rough grain of the wood beneath my fingers, noticing a wilting violet nearby, its petals curling inward as if mirroring Theralis’s slow decay. Before I could lose myself in the story, the clash of steel against steel shattered the quiet.
Through a narrow gap in the hedge, I glimpsed fae warriors training in the yard. Their movements were precise, lethal—a deadly dance of lithe, muscular forms weaving across the square with unearthly grace. I held my breath, captivated. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d never believe such swift power existed. I memorized their steps, their strikes, until the summer sun dipped over the water and they dispersed.
Returning to my chambers, a sharp *smack* echoed from the small dining room where Thalyn and I took meals. My curiosity piqued, I crept closer on the balls of my feet, pressing against the cool stone wall to remain unseen. Hushed, angry voices leaked through the door.
“You witless fool!” Another slap rang out, followed by a gasp. My heart quickened. It was Thalyn, berating a lower fae staff member. Her voice sliced through again, venomous. “Three days, and you dare ruin it now?”
“I-I’m sorry, my lady,” the fae stammered. My mind spun. Three days—my departure. What had gone wrong? Why did Thalyn sound almost relieved at the prospect of my leaving?
“Get out of my sight!” she barked, followed by the shattering of glass. I bolted up the stairs to my room before she could catch me eavesdropping. My pulse raced from the rush, but a deeper ache bloomed in my chest. After all these years under her care, the nights she’d sat by me, banishing my nightmares with whispered prayers—had I been nothing more than a burden? I sank onto my bed, the memory of her hand on my fevered brow clashing with her cold words. The betrayal stung, raw and bitter.
Later, braced against my trembling thighs, I shut my eyes, steadying my breath. I couldn’t be weak. I wouldn’t be defenseless, not like my parents. Eighteen years had passed since they were taken—slaughtered by the demons that still haunted my dreams, along with most of Valmyrien’s people. I’d hidden beneath castle floorboards, a mere child of five, while thousands perished in the Great Siege. Argyll’s warriors, led by my adopted aunt and uncle, saved the few survivors, including me.
I barely recalled that day, my mind shielding me from the worst. Only fragments remained—fear, despair, horror—and a fading portrait on my nightstand, the sole tether to my parents. My mother’s green eyes, like mine, her fiery red hair, her sunlit smile. My father’s warm skin, strong nose, dark hair. I clutched the frame now, tracing their faces as grief tightened my chest. What I wouldn’t give to see them again.
My Aunt Maerra Lennox had pulled me from the ashes, given me purpose as her tool to unite fae and humans. She and Uncle Arron, King of Argyll, had answered Valmyrien’s desperate call, yet I couldn’t forget they were fae, kin to those who’d oppressed my kind. How could one marriage erase decades of bloodshed? Still, if it could lessen that suffering, grant humans a taste of freedom, I’d bear the cost.
Gravel crunched under boots nearby, snapping me from my thoughts. Male laughter pierced the night air, growing louder from the hedges. I stifled a curse, sprinting to the training yard’s edge and crouching behind a stand of wooden practice swords. The scent of sweat and worn timber filled my nose, dirt rough beneath my palms.
Their voices drifted closer. “Graham’s a blithering idiot.”
“How does a male that clever lose his damned boots?” The other barked a laugh. I glanced at my leather-clad feet, biting my lip to suppress a smirk. *Thank you, Graham.*
Peeking through the stand’s gaps, I saw two fae males—one with long red hair, the other with cropped blond—bantering as they neared. My body stiffened, palms slick with sweat. Were they coming for me? Did they know I was here?
*No chance. Not now.*
I wiped my hands on my stolen trousers, breath held tight, lungs burning. They moved as if in slow torment, each step agonizing. Red stopped by my discarded bow, whistling. “Commander’s going to flay someone for leaving this out.”
Blondie edged closer to the stand, my hiding spot. “What’re you on about?” My fingers twitched toward the dagger at my waist, though I had no notion of what I’d do against a trained warrior.
“Someone left a bow and quiver. Right on the ground.” Red waved it in the air. My chest screamed for air, panic surging. *Don’t see me. Please, Bomris, don’t let them see me.*
“Leave it,” Blondie scoffed, snatching a metal sword from the shelf inches from me. “Let the Commander deal with the fool who did it.” My heart thundered, drowning out all but its frantic beat. I’d seen the Commander’s punishments—blood and bruises even on fae who healed swiftly. What would he do to a human like me?
Red dropped the bow with a clatter, and they sauntered off, still chattering. I crawled out, brushing off dirt, whispering thanks to the unresponsive Gods. “That was too close,” I muttered, snatching up the bow. Guilt flickered—another broken vow to curb my curses—but it faded into dread. What would Thalyn say if she found me like this, clad in stolen garb, daggers at my waist? Worse, what would Aunt Maerra think, her hope for human dignity, seeing me defy every expectation? I pictured her black eyes, sharp with disappointment.
Yet I owed her everything for saving me, for this life, no matter the price. As Royal Consort to Argyll’s king, she wielded influence, not a crown—Theralis honored only male bloodlines for rule. My role would mirror hers: the perfect wife to a future king, bearing heirs until my mortal years waned. Not the worst fate for a human with no kin, but far from my heart’s desire.
I sank to the hard ground, stretching aching muscles from my secret training, letting moonlight caress my face. I lingered, gazing at the lone moon gilding the starlit sky, listening to waves crash against the boulders below. I thought of what I’d lost, what I might still gain. For my people, for this continent, I’d surrender my freedom, my choices—whatever it took for a better future.
