The Heiress of the Lake (1)

A dark romantic fantasy. Chapter 1: In the ruins

Chapter 1: In the ruins

All heads turned as the man entered. Drunks and thieves, whores and smugglers, all stared as the well attired man marched through the tavern hall, obviously disgusted by the urine, ale and Snakegrass stench-soaked place, and the many drunk pairs of eyes following his every step. The young man did not stop and nobody dared to stand in the way of his stern footsteps. 

The piercing sight of his dark eyes searched the place while he walked, and once he found his target, the man quickened his stride. A figure of a smaller man flinched at the sight of the intruder, he got up and attempted to move deeper into the shady backrooms of the tavern - but alas! The well-dressed taller man grabbed him, dragged through the tavern with the small one effortlessly fighting back.

“You’re not getting away!” The tall one grunted. The whole public of the tavern stared amused at the spectacle. 

The uproar continued outside. The tall one pulled his prey out of the warm stench of the tavern mercilessly, rain was pouring from the pitch black sky, as it did nearly all the time in the land of Autumna. 

“You couldn’t have gone lower now, could you?” The tall man shook his head, dropping the other into a puddle, “cool down!”

The small one got up without a word and punched his kidnaper in the face. The taller man took the hit with true dignity not making a sound, then grabbed the small one and shoved him into the muddy puddle again, this time face-down. 

“Enough, Auri!” The tall one shouted through the thunder and the pouring rain, “How many times do I have to pull you out of trouble?”

The small figure jumped up spitting out muddy water and taking off the soaked cloak. It was a girl with mud on her face.

“I wasn’t in trouble! I was enjoying my drink!” She squealed.

“Enjoying your drink? Really?” The tall man smirked glancing over the pathetic excuse for a tavern on the very edge of the half-ruined town. Once it was the citadel of Autumna, but for nearly eighteen years now, ever since the attack of Thilians, the town stood in ruins. 

The ruins were notoriously famous for their abundance of low-class taverns, cheap whorehouses and the strongest Snakegrass to be found. 

“Don’t pretend you’ re not coming here for a drink or two! And to the whorehouses! Why can’t I?” The girl came close and yelled in his face. 

“I’m not the heiress of Autumna, like you are!” He replied sighing, while the girl gave an infuriated snort. 

“Besides, a High-born man keeps his pursuits of pleasure to himself and makes sure to stay out of sight when he roams around shady places.” 

“I was keeping out of sight!” she yelled back.

“I found you easily. You were lucky enough those bastards there were too drunk to notice, but soon they would have,” the tall man shook his head, “Come, Frogling! Let’s go home!”

“It’s not home, it’s a prison! I’ m trapped Marci! Father will decide for me! You heard him! Tomorrow he’ll announce the name of my future king. I have no say in it! Then I’ll have to marry some scumbag, sleep with him in front of the court and be a spectacle of their amusement for the rest of my life!” Auri shouted, then broke down crying and yelling her lungs out with unarticulated sounds. Marcian, quite the contrary, stood completely calm. He grabbed the hilt of his sword, because he knew exactly what would follow; the girl jumped up, pulling out her narrow, light-weight sword and attacked him viciously. It’s what she usually did to gain control over her anger. Or more likely - gave into it until she was drained of all strength and fury. She swung the sword, Marci casually fought back, without stepping back, and without attacking. Although she fought well, Auri still was no match for the much taller man. The sounds of clashing metal aligned with the raging thunderstorm and flashes of lightning. 

“Are you done?” he asked indifferently.

The girl had stopped fighting, she bended over attempting to regain her breath. But not for long. With a savage yawp she went at him once more. A couple of men from the tavern had come out to observe the fight.

“Now can we go? Honestly, Frogling! I’m soaked wet!” Marci said annoyed. Indeed, his fine clothes were drenched in rainwater through and through, “Come on!”

Finally, Auri hid her sword and went along with her friend, their splashing footsteps stomping on the muddy road. She held on to him, Marci put his strong arm around her shoulders and finally she felt at peace. A pair of cunning eyes from the shadows of the ruins followed their dark silhouettes dissolve into the night.

Both crept through the dark and empty hallways of the castle to the kitchen and snitched a bottle of booze. Auri arched her brow observing her friend rummaging through the pantry.

“You skipped dinner,” Marci shrugged stacking a tower of pies and scones to take with them. 

“Booze would’ve been enough for me.”

“Sure,” he retorted with his mouth full. 

“Let’s go, guttler! Stop stuffing your face!”

They tip-toed to the Winter garden, looking over their shoulders and behind corners not to be seen; Auri’s father’s court was full of spies. Although neglecting her well-being, Lord Morten always wanted to be informed of her actions and whereabouts. Especially when she reached adulthood two years ago, and was old enough to be wed. Like he ever cared for my virtue, old scum! Ari thought to herself.

Auri and her friend sat amongst the southern plants as they had done all the years before. It was their refuge; father never went to the Winter garden. 

“Eat up, you must be hungry!” he mumbled stuffing half-a-pie in his mouth.

“Very handsome!” she smirked, “I’ll stick to the booze tonight. I can’t swallow a damn thing when I think about tomorrow. That’s why I went to the tavern in the first place; to take my mind off the wretched engagement,” she sighed, ripped the bottle from Marci’s grip and gulped down the booze without a single sign of disgust on her face. It was the strongest booze in the kingdom - Snakeling Strong water. Lord Morten or High King as he called himself for eighteenth year now, robbed the Snakeling folk from everything they had. Their town was a small stretch of land amidst the new kingdom of Autumna, land uncovered by the Lake. It was all Morten’s and he treated the Snakelings worse than slaves. If they would not submit, he could send legions of Autumnian soldiers to wipe the land clear of those pesky creatures. Hideous half-snakes, treacherous fools, High King Morten called them. He would have murdered them many years ago, but then Morten discovered the Snakeling booze. It gave at least some relief from his pain. 

“Don’t overdo it with the Strong water! You’ll regret it in the morning!” Marci warned her, taking out his pipe to smoke Snakegrass, along with a small pouch full of dried Snakegrass flowers.

“I don’t care! It can’t get any worse than it is,” Auri retorted, “your treat?” 

She also found a small pipe in the pocket of the man’s trousers she wore for her disguise.

“Are you all out of ‘Grass already? You bought it two days ago,” Marci pulled the small pouch of rustling plants away from her hand.

“Well I had to pay for the drinks in the tavern! I can’t use the castle’s shiny silver, can I?”

“That would be suspicious indeed. Alright, my treat. But you do smoke too much,” Marci shook his head while the young princess filled her pipe with the dried plant and hurriedly lit it from a burning candle. She took a lengthy smoke and exhaled white fumes, instantly relaxing and reclining on the cushions of the daybed. 

Though only eighteen, both were well accustomed to the bad habits flourishing among the inhabitants of the court. They drank booze without flinching and smoked Snakegrass for years already. Up until now both friends had been protected from fornication - Marci’s mother kept a sharp eye out for him. Though she suspected him visiting brothels in the town, he never engaged in the dirty lifestyle of the court. And he never let Auri take part in the court’s revelry either. 

Auri was his best friend, she was his sister and his soulmate. Marcian’s mother was summoned to the court to nurse the new-born heiress; her own mother Lady Aurora had nearly died after the terrible labour. Marci’s mother was a High-born, allowed to stay in the court and take her own new-born son with her. Since nobody cared for the heiress, Marci’s mother became her mother as well. She even named the girl, because her parents never bothered to do it.

Auriani, the golden one, she called the baby, because her warm, amber-coloured eyes had a golden glow to them. 

Auri and Marci grew up inseparable. Although the court suspected the two sleeping with each other ever since they had reached the age to do so, Marci’s mother Lady Gwen knew both shared a pure friendship and the love of siblings. 

Marci was the closest thing to family the young heiress had ever known. Her father either treated her with indifferent neglectance or scolded her furiously, often in front of his court. There was no in-between. Strangely enough, he was always kind and respectful toward Marcian. 

***

Auri - drunk and intoxicated by Snakegrass, snugged under Marci’s arm and closed her eyes. Although their clothes were wet, she felt warm in the hot, humid air of the Winter garden, and in her friend ‘s protective embrace. 

“Marci?”

“Mm?”

“Will you not let that bastard beat me?”

“Who?”

“The one my father will pick as my husband. He’ll be mean to me, I know,” Auri hid her face in Marci’s armpit. 

“I will protect you any way I can.”

“I love you, Marci! You know it, right?”

“I love you too, Frogling,” Marci replied with a sympathetic smile. Both knew exactly what it meant to them; they shared a bond stronger than any friendship; a golden thread leading from Auri’s heart to Marcian’s, showing the girl a way through the darkest times of her life. 

As Marci predicted, Auri woke up with the worst hangover. She moaned, digging her head into a stack of snow-white pillows. Marci had carried her to bed and called the maid to change the girl’s wet clothes. He could do it himself, Auri trusted him completely. Marci would never take advantage of her being helpless.  

Of course, both had tried kissing at the age of fourteen, when the early urges of lust woke in them, but after one try both were disgusted - indeed the bond between them was of the purest kind. 

A loud knock on the door nearly drove Auri insane, the headache was sheer torture.

“Go away!” She groaned.

“Nothing like a good old breakfast to get rid of hangover,” Marci barged into her chamber with a tray full of food.

“You can eat it yourself!” 

Marci sat down on the side of her bed. He pulled a bottle of booze out of the inner pocket of his jacket and poured some into a beaker of juice. 

“Come out, this will help.”

Auri’s head popped up from underneath the pillows, she chugged down the juice, then took a smoking Snakegrass pipe that Marci had already lit for the princess. After a couple of smokes, she was back to her usual self.

“You’re a life saver, Marci!”

“Your loyal servant, my Lady!” He bowed laughing.

Auri’s smile faded as she remembered what day it was. The engagement feast would take place late in the afternoon.

High King Morten himself shall choose a High-born man to marry his only daughter. The wedding was planned two weeks after the engagement. Father didn’t listen to Auri’s objections. She was to get married, consummate the marriage in front of the court and live to become the next High Queen alongside her King. Morten would not live long, that was clear. He suffered from strange seizures ever since Auri could remember. His howls of pain echoed through the hallways of the castle each night. Nobody said anything, but the High King looked mangled from the pain, a crippled shell of a once handsome, stately man. 

“Help yourself,” Auri gestured at the breakfast tray, she still couldn’t eat.

“Have at least something. For me,” Marci looked at her with a warm smile in his dark eyes, “please!” He laid his head in the girls lap playfully. 

Auri sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Alright!” 

Marci fed her a strawberry, all the while teasing her. Then another one, then he spoon-fed her some breakfast porridge.

“Here comes the dragon, open wide Frogling,” Marci moved the spoon through the air, mimicking his own mother’s voice.

“I hate porridge!” Auri grunted like a stubborn child, but still let Marci feed her. 

“Now I’ll call a maid, and let’s get you all dressed-up and looking lady-like,” he got up.

“What’s the point? I’m not showing my face outside my chamber as long as I can,”

A loud knock on the door crushed her plan to stay out of sight.

“Your Highness is expected in the Great tomb,” a servant stated. 

“Oh no, why is Morten up so early?” The girl moaned.

“I think it’s the anniversary of your mother’s death,” Marcian said seriously.

Auri hated going into the tomb. Her father spent many hours there each day, and he made Auri accompany him once a year. She had to look impeccable, otherwise Morten would embarrass her in front of his court for every slightest imperfection. But even despite her efforts, father would still have one final insult to throw in Auri’s face; she was the reason her mother died. Although Auri had heard - Lady Aurora drowned herself after Morten betrayed her, the High King had his own opinion. 

The maid helped Auri clean up after yesterday’s drinking, and to put on a lovely ankle-length sapphire-blue dress. Marci helped her pick it out - Auri wouldn’t care, but her friend tried to choose a dress which would be least annoying to the High King.

“Don’t bother, he will always find something to hate about me,” Auri shrugged. The maid buttoned up the back of the silk gown. 

Then the maid brushed her thick, dark locks. The hair. Auri hated it. Marci’s hair was long, straight, shiny and black, always perfectly brushed, slicked back and braided on the sides, not to fall in his handsome face. He was the neatest young Autumnian in the court, Auri envied his ability to look near perfect most of the time. 

Auri despised her dark, wavy locks of hair. If they were golden, like her mother’s or maybe just straight and long like all the Autumnian’ hair, but oh no! It had to be a blend of two different natures. If not brushed and pinned up, the girl’s hair resembled a messy bird’s nest or a dark cloud. 

“Very pretty!” Marci noted looking at Auri’s reflection in the mirror. The shorter locks would not submit to the maids attempts to tame them, instead they stuck out and framed her pale face beautifully. 

“I wish I was more like mother. With golden hair and blue eyes,” 

“I think you look beautiful just the way you are, Frogling,” Marci gave her a dashing smile.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she tapped him on the shoulder, then sighed with all the heaviness of a rain cloud, “let’s get it over with, the old scum is probably waiting already.”

Both friends rushed to the tomb outside the castle; it was built solely for the late Lady - a handsome building of the finest white marble, inlaid with golden ornaments. 

The two of them stepped inside. Auri hated the place whole-heartedly; it was always cold, the vast empty place had only one purpose - it was made for the High King to worship his deceased wife. In the very centre of the building stood a marble pedestal with glass covering it. Lady Aurora’s body laid inside - perfectly preserved. High King Morten had found a Birdling Sorcerer who provided magic to keep the Lady’s body untouched by death for years. Nobody knew why Morten kept the body, his court presumed that his grief had lingered more than expected. 

Auri’s and Marcian’s lonely footsteps echoed across the tomb. High King Morten and his court stood around the glass coffin observing them. Auri’s steps slowed down. All the sounds she made resounded painfully in the dead silence. The clicking of her heels, the rustling of Auri’s silk gown, even the sound of her heavy breath, all of it disrupted the sacred peace of the tomb. Auri looked at her mother and shivered; the sight of the preserved body was both captivating and haunting. Lady Aurora’s skin was white as snow, her luscious golden locks were carefully arranged on the blood-red cushions, a golden crown of water lilies made of pearls and crystals shimmered in the light. Her lips were red, so was the Lady’s gown. Everything about her appeared to be perfect. Auri could never compare to this beauty. The only resemblence she had to Lady Aurora was her feminine figure.

“Oh, look who finally showed up!” High King Morten said idly, “the princess of the Damned land herself.” 

His voice expressed deep contempt and ridicule. 

“And her loyal guardian. Perfect, as always, Marcian,” High King’s voice changed completely when addressing the latter. 

Both Auri and Marcian bowed to the High King. 

“Look, Auriani! Observe the perfection,” Morten gestured at the dead Lady. He paced around the coffin glancing lovingly at his wife’s body. 

“If you were a half the woman she was, I’d be pleased,” Morten’s eyes suddenly turned toward his daughter, “but all I’m left with are precious memories and… you,”

Auri stood quiet, lowering her sight. What could she possibly say?

“Look at her!” Morten commanded Auri. She hurriedly turned her amber-coloured eyes to the coffin. 

“You cannot compare to this beauty!” He yelled. It appeared today the High King was in a hurry to scold her, without the usual ridicule.

“I know, father,” Auri chirped.

“Did you say something?” He grunted.

“I can’t compare to her,” Auri hung her head. Marci stood by her. Although he didn’t dare to stand up to his King, Auri felt her friend suffering along with her.

“It’s good you know it, indeed,” Morten seemed to calm down. 

“On this day…” he began the usual speech Auri knew well; he held it every year, and she imagined it will end with his usual rampaging. The court stood silent, barely breathing.

“…my dearest Aurora, the fairest of all, died. The Lake took her life. So, I took the Lake. And the land of Autumna has been mourning ever since. And shall mourn until…” Morten’s loud voice resounded in the white marble hall.

“…until…” Morten’s blubbering stopped at the sight of Auri. She wasn’t listening, nervously crumpling the ribbon tied around her waist. 

Morten ran up to her, pulled out his dagger and smacked Auri’s hands with the dagger’s hilt. She moaned and jumped back, behind Marcian’s back. 

“She will pay more attention, my Lord! I promise!” Though Marci’s voice sounded apologetically, he bowed his head only shortly and stood in front of Auri shielding her from Morten’s wrath. 

The latter smirked. 

“Courteous as always! I don’t even know what you’ve found in her, Marcian.” 

Marci didn’t answer, but his sight clashed with Morten’s. Two pairs of dark eyes engaged in an invisible battle. Morten looked away first. His gaze stopped at Auri’s teary eyes peeping behind her friend. 

“She didn’t inherit her mother’s beauty, nor her father’s fire. Her spirit is not cold, nor hot. Always in-between. She’s neither this, nor that. She’s nothing!” Morten said spitefully. 

“But my lovely Aurora! My dearest! We shall meet soon!” The High King glanced over the glass box again. The court stood silent and bewildered. The King was obviously speaking of his own fate - his health was getting worse by the day. 

“You may leave,” Morten dismissed his court, “Auriani, stay!” He commanded. 

The poor girl had almost left the despicable white tomb, when her father’s cold voice cut into the silence. She looked at Marci, frightened. What was Morten up to?

“I’ll be right outside the tomb, don’t worry,” Marci whispered. 

High King Morten slowly paced around Auri. It was only the two of them, a couple of bodyguards stood by the walls, among them a stranger Auri hadn’t seen before - a tall man with silvery hair and a vicious sight in his cold, blue eyes. 

“How I wish she was still alive… it could relieve my suffering. Finally, the burning pain would go away,” Morten spoke to himself. Auri straightened her back; she had always feared father, yet for many years she hoped he’d change. The hope was nearly gone, but a little glimmer of it still remained in her young hear like a silly little star lingering in the ink-black sky. 

“I wish for it too, father! I would give my life for her to live, but I can’t…” Auri’s voice broke down, she went silent facing Morten’s dark eyes. A sinister grin rose on his face.

“Many years ago, I thought you were worthless. But now I know your purpose,”

He marched to the girl and grabbed her hand. The High King raised her open palm and led the razor-sharp blade of his dagger across it. Auri was too shocked to pull it back. She made no sound, watching the captivating sight of blood oozing from the red line on her palm. 

“Regnar! Come here!” Morten called the grey man. He approached, Auri half-noticed him coming; despite the grey hair the man was young. 

Regnar took the dagger Morten gave him.

“Will it do? Is she finally of age?”

Regnar sniffed the blood on the dagger, then, to Auri’s horror, he gave the blood a short lick, and looked at the girl with a hungry stare from his ice-blue eyes.

“She is ready!” Regnar said in a low roaring  voice.

Auri got back to her senses and ripped her palm from Morten’s grip. She ran away without saying a word; it was all too awkward. 

Morten shook his head.

“Such disgusting manners!”

“Will we proceed with the plan?” Regnar asked.

“I’ll speak to Heron. He’ll arrive shortly. I presume we’ll carry out the enchantment after nine months or so,” Morten pondered casually, “I have that much, don’t I Regnar?”

The latter seemed to be listening to something hidden to the ears of common people.

“You have a year,” he replied.

“Excellent! You see, Regnar, I won’t settle for less than perfection. I will have it all.” Morten took back his dagger, looked at Aurora one last time and marched out of the tomb, crouching in pain - the burning seizure began, awakened by his longing for Lady Aurora. 

Auri ran outside sobbing. She fell into Marci’s embrace.

“What happened? I didn’t hear anything!” he exclaimed.

Auri showed him the cut hand and told of the strange man.

“Will it ever stop, Marci?! I wish he would just let me be!” Auri shook crying in his arms, as he led her away from the tomb. Marcian looked back, he saw the High King leave hurriedly and the silver-haired stranger followed.

“Who is that man?” Marci pondered.

“I bet it’s my husband-to-be. Father shall give me to a monster who’ll drink my blood!” Auri howled.

“Hush, Frogling! I doubt it. He’s clearly not an Autumnian. Your father would want to preserve the blood of your kin.”

“I don’t care anymore! Oh, Marci, take me to the Winter garden, I just want to get drunk and forget it all,” Auri said hiccupping. 

“You shouldn’t. The engagement will be held after a couple of hours,” Marci went quiet thinking, “you know what? Let’s go to my mother! She wished to see you.”

Auri nodded, holding to her friend tightly as they went along. 

Lady Gwen wasn’t forced to join the court. She was Auri’s Nanny, and with the girl reaching adulthood, Lady Gwen would leave the court after Auri’s wedding. 

“Oh, dear girl! What did he say this time?!” The Lady embraced Auri. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Alright, settle dear child! I know a perfect distraction; let’s do some fortune telling. With your upcoming engagement you simply must do it. It’s an old Autumnian custom,” Lady Gwen suggested. Indeed, Autumnian girls would often practise simple witchcraft, that mostly involved meddling with Snakegrass and asking the spirits for guidance concerning love-life. 

Auri wouldn’t want to hear a thing about the engagement, but could not refuse Lady Gwen; she was the only mother the girl had ever known.

Marci helped his mother to carry a heavy old cast-iron bowl into the chamber. The Lady filled it up with dried Snakegrass flowers and lit it on fire. 

“Now, you breathe in the smoke while I sing the enchantment. You’ll see the one you’re fated to wed. He may not appear clearly. But whatever the spirits reveal to you, tell us all before it fades,” she explained.

“I shall leave you to it. You would hardly desire a man’s presence in such delicate business,” Marci attempted to escape.

“Stop right there!” Auri grabbed him by the hand, “if I have to do it, so will you! I won’t miss it, not for the world, to find out who is your beloved,” Auri pulled him close and whispered into Marci’s ear, “I hope it’s not one of the whores you’re visiting!”

Marci blushed and tried to pull away.

“Come now, son! Auri’s right. Stay, keep us company! Poor Auri has suffered enough today,” Lady Gwen begged. 

Marcian sat down with a heavy sigh. 

“Auri, you have to breath in the smoke, I’ll sing, and whatever you see - tell us!”

At first it seemed the enchantment did not work on Auri, she inhaled the white smoke, Lady Gwen sang a mysterious tune in the old Autumnian tongue, but the girl did nothing but giggle.

“You children smoke too much Snakegrass! Don’t think I haven’t noticed!” Lady Gwen murmured, shaking her head.

She kept singing, until Auri reclined in the bed with eyes wide open; clearly she saw something the others did not. 

“Tell us what you see!”

“I see… I see… a man. He’s searching for me… in the tavern… he saved me from the wolf…” Auri whispered, barely awake, intoxicated by the fumes. Lady Gwen’s Snakegrass was much stronger than the one Auri usually smoked.

“Tell us more! What does he look like?” Lady Gwen asked.

“He has… dark hair… he’s bound to be a ruler,” Auri’s eyes closed, she dozed off. 

“That wasn’t much,” Marcian shrugged, “can I go now?”

“Now it’s your turn, son! Come!”

Auri opened her eyes again.

“He doesn’t have the courage, does he?” She teased Marci. 

Without saying a word, he sat down to inhale the smoke. After a while his limbs grew heavy, Marci laid down beside Auri.

Lady Gwen didn’t need to ask him, Marci spoke:

“I see lit candles, hundreds and thousands in the darkened hall. They bring in the bed… I am led to my bride. There she lays waiting… My queen with the dark waves of her hair, her eyes of…” Marci didn’t finish, he fell asleep snoring loudly.

“That sounded like…. No, it cannot be!” Lady Gwen pondered frowning. 

Auri wasn’t listening at all, she also had drifted off into sleep. Lady Gwen stood up looking at the two lying next to each other, inhaling and exhaling in the same rhythm.

“So, it shall be! A great future awaits for you, my son!” She said, straightening her back and breathing deeply. 

Lady Gwen put out the smoking herbs and opened the window to let in some fresh air. The clouds poured rain, it seemed the dark sky was mourning for years, because it rained most of the time in the land of Autumna.

“Did I tell you something?” Marci woke up.

“You don’t remember?!”

“Vaguely. Just blurred images,” he sat up. Marci saw his friend laying near him.

“Look at her! Sleeping peacefully like a baby,” he smiled.

Lady Gwen was about to tell him what the spirits revealed, but she was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. A maid was searching for princess Auriani; it was high time for the Heiress to get ready for her engagement feast.

Marci shook her shoulder to wake the girl up. Still half-asleep heavyheartedly Auri followed the maid to be prepared for the dreaded feast.

Auri had to wear a heavy silver gown of the finest velvet and silk, embroidered with amethysts, pearls and diamonds. The Heiress stood by the mirror,  a miserable puppet on strings, pulled by her father - she would be engaged to whomever the High King decided. Auri wished to get drunk and forget her pathetic state, but the time had come for the princess to enter the festive hall. Auri wanted for Marcian to hold her hand, at least to feel him near, but he was nowhere around her.

The servants led the Heiress into the hall. All eyes on her - the court with their vain, judging stares, the guests admiring her gown, and the High King on his Throne with the Ceremony master standing nearby, awaiting for the name of the next High King called out loud, to join his hands with the Heiress. 

Auri felt nauseous, her knees trembled, every step the girl took felt impossibly heavy. Where was Marci, her only relief? Finally, she spotted the young Autumnian, he stood among other men near the High King’s throne. That grey-haired bloodsucker of a man also stood there, devouring the sight of Auri with his ice-blue eyes. Auri shivered; was that her fate? She did remember seeing these eyes in her vision - the eyes of the wolf, who attacked her…

If such was her fate, Auri could not escape it. With all eyes observing her every step, the girl stopped at her father’s feet; the High King sat on his heightened throne. The seat was carved in Blackwood, inlaid with amethysts and silver ornaments. The colours of Autumna kingdom - black, violet and silver. High King’s silk clothes shimmered in the dim candle light; as the sunlight rarely touched the land of Autumna, the candles were lit already in the afternoon. Thunder rumbled in the stormy skies outside. 

Auri bowed to her father as gracefully as she could, yet there was no sign of acknowledgement in Morten’s eyes. Only Marci gave the princess a tiny smile, a small relief; Marci would save Auri from the harsh fate bestowed upon her. 

The High King got up and began his speech. Auri held her breath; her father would announce the name of her future husband within the next minutes.

“…the chosen one shall be the High King of Autumna, therefore I’m expecting nothing less than perfection from the candidate. As you all may know, I have always longed for a son, a man equal to me in wisdom and good taste. Luckily, there is such a man. I saw him grow up before my eyes…”

Auri’s heart was beating faster than ever. A dark cloud of suspicion covered her mind; could it be?!

“…therefore, my heir and the husband of princess Auriani shall be our own beloved Marcian. Step closer and take your bride’s hand, dear boy!”

Auri’s heart sank. It could not be true! What kind of a merciless trick was this? Was it a cruel joke?

Marcial came near Auri, he was pale as snow. Auri could clearly see fear, shock and denial in his eyes, because she had the same look in hers. He attempted to hide his hand shaking as Marci held Auri’s sweaty palm. 

“What a charming couple! I believe you are pleased now, princess Auriani? Since your togetherness has not been a well-kept secret all these years, I had the pleasure of finally making it official. Though I doubt it would improve your reputation, too late for that, I’m afraid…”

A wave of laughter roller over the hallway. Auri coloured up like never before.

“A blushing bride, indeed…” Morten smirked, indulging in his own inventive ridicule. 

The poor girl wished to disappear, to run away and never look back. But she could not; Auri was the heiress of Autumna, nothing would change that. She was trapped and her only remedy had become a curse. Marcian was to wed her.

The feast went on with the High King making malicious remarks on the engaged couple, Auri in particular. Several times in his toasts Morten had the audacity to demand a grandchild from the engaged, and as soon as they could. The amused guests laughed the night away. 

Auri and Marci sat beside each other estranged; they couldn’t look in the other’s eyes. The girl finished one glass of wine after another. When the crown seemed drunk enough, Auri begged to excuse her from the table. The heiress nearly ran out of the hall.

“Auri, wait!” Marcian had followed and caught up to her.

“What are we to do, Marci? How shall we escape this? He wants to destroy everything good in my life! Everything will be ruined and tainted!” Auri screamed her lungs out into the darkened hallway. 

“Wait! Maybe it’s not so bad. Listen, now you’ll be protected from some scumbag Morten could’ve chosen for you. Maybe we should just go along with it,” he said cautiously.

“You are not thinking…? No, Marci! This shall ruin us! I despise the very thought of me and you…” the girl couldn’t go on.

“But we could try to trick him. Let’s pretend!”

“And the consummation in front of the court? They’re not dumb, they’ll see!” The girl kept shouting.

“Hush, Frogling! We can think of something. Please!” Marci led Auri into her chamber.

She looked into her friend’s eyes.

“Have you been seduced by power? Do you honestly want to be the High King?”

Marcian looked away.

“You do… and you are willing to sacrifice our friendship for it. To sacrifice me. Then… then….” Auri’s eyes widened in pure horror. Then they narrowed with disgust and spite.

“Then what are you wating for?! Come and take me, if you want! Why wait?!” Auri yelled in his face, ripping of her heavy gown.

“No, Auri, we’ll wait until the wedding! I… stop…” Marci stammered and lowered his sight ashamed. He ran out of the chamber as Auri took off the last piece of her underwear. The heiress broke down crying, ripping the gown to shreds in her anger.

Auri could not settle; the dark castle walls laid heavy on her heart; the wretched castle had suffocated the girl all her life. She needed to get out, be free to make her own choice. This night might be the last chance she gets to enjoy her freedom. With the upcoming wedding every minute of her life would be planned during the next weeks. 

Auri found the man’s clothes she wore to disguise herself. She put them on along with boots and a dark cloak. She took her sword. As soon as the heiress got out of the backdoor, she disappeared into the darkness and didn’t look back. 

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Chapter 2