Chapter 1
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The road was smooth under the carriage wheels which Isilla was glad of. She had so many questions and it was worlds easier to write them when the ride wasn't making her chalk bounce across the board. Her nerves had begun to make her thoughts race. The chalk dust clumped into a gray paste on her palms, damp with sweat. She wiped it on her skirts.
Haribit tsked at her from the seat and snatched the hand holding the chalk. Isilla frowned as the handmaid used a cloth to wipe it off, stealing the damp stump of chalk and replacing it with a fresh piece. Across from her, the other two girls giggled.
Isilla went back to the board and wrote quickly, This isn't funny!
The girls laughed again and one of them, the younger one, Gazta, pointed at her skirts, "You're meeting your husband covered in chalk paste and dust!"
She felt her frown deepen and a hot blush rise to her cheeks.
"Gazta! That's enough!" Haribit snapped from beside her. The girl was the closest she had to a friend. She had been assigned to the castle for over a year, usually the Handmaids only stayed a few months but Haribit's land was poor and her father thought being closer to court would land her a good marriage. Unfortunately for him, Isilla, the princess she was tasked with did not live inside the castle walls. "Don't let her get to you Isilla, you know the southerners have no class."
Gazta made a dismissive noise in her throat and looked out the window, the girl next to her laughed quietly behind her sleeve. Isilla lifted her chalk to apologize for Haribit but then decided not to. Gazta would be gone in a few weeks anyway.
The girl mumbled outside to no one in particular, "Some princess, can't even do simple magic."
Isilla crinkled her nose but decided to ignore the jab. Gatza was right, she couldn't do magic but she was a princess and she was on her way to marry her prince.
What do you think he's like? she asked showing the board to Haribit.
The girl pulled closer to her, letting their legs touch. Inside the bubble of Isilla's silence the other girls wouldn't be able to hear. "You've already asked that," she said rolling her eyes.
Isilla wiped the board with her sleeve, I know, just tell me again.
"I'm sure he's very nice. You're the one that has been writing to him. How did he seem? He was very handsome in his portrait."
She let out a breath remembering the portrait that he had sent. His dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, his eyes, ice blue over a perfect nose. He was very handsome. A true Prince. The best marriage she could hope for given her affliction.
She tugged at a stray curl of hair. He had responded favorably to her portrait but it had been a picture of her at what could be her best. Her honey colored skin was clear and free of the chalk dust that followed her like a cloud. Her hair had been pulled into a pleasing array of braids and beads just for the sitting. Now after weeks of travel her hair was in its normal state of curly red puff. The girls had tried to tame it with braids but it seemed dedicated to unwinding itself. I'm a mess. He's going to hate me, she wrote on the board.
Haribit fussed at her, "Hush, after your wedding night you two will be able to get to know each other better."
She pushed her hand down to fix Isilla's hair. She tucked the flyaway strands behind her ear and pulled the swiftly coming undone mess into a braid. "Well, it may not look very Princess like but it's better than nothing. I'm sure we'll have time get you changed and cleaned up before you meet anyone important."
There was a knock on the side of the carriage. One of the guards was leaning over from his horse, a creature that delighted Isilla, she had never seen one before their arrival in the Dark Kingdom. His face filled the window "We'll be at the palace within the hour," catching sight of Isilla he frowned, "The Prince has asked that you make sure his sister is presentable."
Isilla nodded running her hands over her hair and dress.
"You're getting chalk all over everything," Gazta pointed out.
She stopped and folded her hands in her lap, over the board. Haribit wiped at her hair and dress, attempting to clean it up but they all knew it was no use. The third girl giggled again but after a look from Haribit they all went to work on her, using delicate squares of silk to clean her off as best they could.
"Well, I think that's as best as we can do. We'll get the rest when we get to the palace," Haribit said settling back in her seat.
Gazta snorted, "I don't know why you bother. She's not a proper princess anyway. She can't do any magic."
Isilla looked down at herself letting the insult slide. The girl was right. That's probably why Father was so eager to be rid of me. Cursed to silence, no magic. I can't even keep my clothes presentable, she thought. The streaks of chalk were still there on the orange and gold gown but they were far less noticeable. She stopped her hands from reaching up to fiddle with her hair.
I'll have time to change, she scrawled on the board.
Haribit, smiling, nodded in agreement.
The clean-up effort had taken longer than expected, the carriage was slowing to a stop. She could feel butterflies in her stomach. This place will be my new home, she thought to herself feeling her nerves spike, the butterflies turning into nervous aches. It was cold but she felt hot, sweat poured from her. I'm going to meet my husband today, she reminded herself as she attempted to sooth her nerves by shifting her focus to the kindness of his letters.
The girls were chattering among themselves, this was everyone's first trip to the Dark Kingdom. The lands had been forbidden during the war but that was over now. The Prince's letters had described the kingdom to her. He wrote in meticulous detail about the lands, its charms, enough so she could imagine it but she had never seen it.
His words had not captured what it was like once they passed through the chasm between the Kingdoms. A land twisted by Nightmares, it was darker and colder than her own desert lands, the Light Realm. The plants were deep colors and everything was cast in shadow. Unlike her homeland, the buildings were all of stone and metal, the people were paler as was the sun itself. But Isilla had found a sort of beauty. At night, the flowers sparkled and some glowed. The stones and metal gleamed under the moon. Not home, but maybe she could get used to it. She would have to.
The door swung open, her brother's smiling face met hers. He looked nothing like her, where she was messy he was perfect. Where she was gaudy he was refined. His hair was a deep auburn over smooth face. He frowned for a moment then sighed. Holding out his hand he whispered, "Come on, Chalky. I suppose we can get you cleaned up in the palace."
She frowned and took his hand, letting him lead her out of the carriage. The look of dismay was quickly replaced as she set eyes upon the towering dark spires of the palace. The castle was made from smoke stone, the dark material glittered in places, like glass. It stretched impossibly high against the dingy blue of the sky. She knew from the Prince's letters that inside it twisted like a maze, the halls lined with false windows that showed a world outside where none existed or suddenly ended in large untended gardens. Ceilings and floors dropped away suddenly, without warning. This is it, she thought starting up at the castle, this is my new life.
She looked, her eyes passing over the crowd to catch glimpses of the outside world that would soon be closed to her. She was thankful for the long trip to the palace, she hardly felt ready to face things even after it.
"Welcome to the Dark Kingdom, dear sister," her brother whispered to her, his voice cruel in her ear.
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The road was smooth under the carriage wheels which Isilla was glad of. She had so many questions and it was worlds easier to write them when the ride wasn't making her chalk bounce across the board. Her nerves had begun to make her thoughts race. The chalk dust clumped into a gray paste on her palms, damp with sweat. She wiped it on her skirts.
Haribit tsked at her from the seat and snatched the hand holding the chalk. Isilla frowned as the handmaid used a cloth to wipe it off, stealing the damp stump of chalk and replacing it with a fresh piece. Across from her, the other two girls giggled.
Isilla went back to the board and wrote quickly, This isn't funny!
The girls laughed again and one of them, the younger one, Gazta, pointed at her skirts, "You're meeting your husband covered in chalk paste and dust!"
She felt her frown deepen and a hot blush rise to her cheeks.
"Gazta! That's enough!" Haribit snapped from beside her. The girl was the closest she had to a friend. She had been assigned to the castle for over a year, usually the Handmaids only stayed a few months but Haribit's land was poor and her father thought being closer to court would land her a good marriage. Unfortunately for him, Isilla, the princess she was tasked with did not live inside the castle walls. "Don't let her get to you Isilla, you know the southerners have no class."
Gazta made a dismissive noise in her throat and looked out the window, the girl next to her laughed quietly behind her sleeve. Isilla lifted her chalk to apologize for Haribit but then decided not to. Gazta would be gone in a few weeks anyway.
The girl mumbled outside to no one in particular, "Some princess, can't even do simple magic."
Isilla crinkled her nose but decided to ignore the jab. Gatza was right, she couldn't do magic but she was a princess and she was on her way to marry her prince.
What do you think he's like? she asked showing the board to Haribit.
The girl pulled closer to her, letting their legs touch. Inside the bubble of Isilla's silence the other girls wouldn't be able to hear. "You've already asked that," she said rolling her eyes.
Isilla wiped the board with her sleeve, I know, just tell me again.
"I'm sure he's very nice. You're the one that has been writing to him. How did he seem? He was very handsome in his portrait."
She let out a breath remembering the portrait that he had sent. His dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, his eyes, ice blue over a perfect nose. He was very handsome. A true Prince. The best marriage she could hope for given her affliction.
She tugged at a stray curl of hair. He had responded favorably to her portrait but it had been a picture of her at what could be her best. Her honey colored skin was clear and free of the chalk dust that followed her like a cloud. Her hair had been pulled into a pleasing array of braids and beads just for the sitting. Now after weeks of travel her hair was in its normal state of curly red puff. The girls had tried to tame it with braids but it seemed dedicated to unwinding itself. I'm a mess. He's going to hate me, she wrote on the board.
Haribit fussed at her, "Hush, after your wedding night you two will be able to get to know each other better."
She pushed her hand down to fix Isilla's hair. She tucked the flyaway strands behind her ear and pulled the swiftly coming undone mess into a braid. "Well, it may not look very Princess like but it's better than nothing. I'm sure we'll have time get you changed and cleaned up before you meet anyone important."
There was a knock on the side of the carriage. One of the guards was leaning over from his horse, a creature that delighted Isilla, she had never seen one before their arrival in the Dark Kingdom. His face filled the window "We'll be at the palace within the hour," catching sight of Isilla he frowned, "The Prince has asked that you make sure his sister is presentable."
Isilla nodded running her hands over her hair and dress.
"You're getting chalk all over everything," Gazta pointed out.
She stopped and folded her hands in her lap, over the board. Haribit wiped at her hair and dress, attempting to clean it up but they all knew it was no use. The third girl giggled again but after a look from Haribit they all went to work on her, using delicate squares of silk to clean her off as best they could.
"Well, I think that's as best as we can do. We'll get the rest when we get to the palace," Haribit said settling back in her seat.
Gazta snorted, "I don't know why you bother. She's not a proper princess anyway. She can't do any magic."
Isilla looked down at herself letting the insult slide. The girl was right. That's probably why Father was so eager to be rid of me. Cursed to silence, no magic. I can't even keep my clothes presentable, she thought. The streaks of chalk were still there on the orange and gold gown but they were far less noticeable. She stopped her hands from reaching up to fiddle with her hair.
I'll have time to change, she scrawled on the board.
Haribit, smiling, nodded in agreement.
The clean-up effort had taken longer than expected, the carriage was slowing to a stop. She could feel butterflies in her stomach. This place will be my new home, she thought to herself feeling her nerves spike, the butterflies turning into nervous aches. It was cold but she felt hot, sweat poured from her. I'm going to meet my husband today, she reminded herself as she attempted to sooth her nerves by shifting her focus to the kindness of his letters.
The girls were chattering among themselves, this was everyone's first trip to the Dark Kingdom. The lands had been forbidden during the war but that was over now. The Prince's letters had described the kingdom to her. He wrote in meticulous detail about the lands, its charms, enough so she could imagine it but she had never seen it.
His words had not captured what it was like once they passed through the chasm between the Kingdoms. A land twisted by Nightmares, it was darker and colder than her own desert lands, the Light Realm. The plants were deep colors and everything was cast in shadow. Unlike her homeland, the buildings were all of stone and metal, the people were paler as was the sun itself. But Isilla had found a sort of beauty. At night, the flowers sparkled and some glowed. The stones and metal gleamed under the moon. Not home, but maybe she could get used to it. She would have to.
The door swung open, her brother's smiling face met hers. He looked nothing like her, where she was messy he was perfect. Where she was gaudy he was refined. His hair was a deep auburn over smooth face. He frowned for a moment then sighed. Holding out his hand he whispered, "Come on, Chalky. I suppose we can get you cleaned up in the palace."
She frowned and took his hand, letting him lead her out of the carriage. The look of dismay was quickly replaced as she set eyes upon the towering dark spires of the palace. The castle was made from smoke stone, the dark material glittered in places, like glass. It stretched impossibly high against the dingy blue of the sky. She knew from the Prince's letters that inside it twisted like a maze, the halls lined with false windows that showed a world outside where none existed or suddenly ended in large untended gardens. Ceilings and floors dropped away suddenly, without warning. This is it, she thought starting up at the castle, this is my new life.
She looked, her eyes passing over the crowd to catch glimpses of the outside world that would soon be closed to her. She was thankful for the long trip to the palace, she hardly felt ready to face things even after it.
"Welcome to the Dark Kingdom, dear sister," her brother whispered to her, his voice cruel in her ear.
The road was smooth under the carriage wheels which Isilla was glad of. She had so many questions and it was worlds easier to write them when the ride wasn't making her chalk bounce across the board. Her nerves had begun to make her thoughts race. The chalk dust clumped into a gray paste on her palms, damp with sweat. She wiped it on her skirts.Haribit tsked at her from the seat and snatched the hand holding the chalk. Isilla frowned as the handmaid used a cloth to wipe it off, stealing the damp stump of chalk and replacing it with a fresh piece. Across from her, the other two girls giggled.Isilla went back to the board and wrote quickly, This isn't funny!The girls laughed again and one of them, the younger one, Gazta, pointed at her skirts, "You're meeting your husband covered in chalk paste and dust!"She felt her frown deepen and a hot blush rise to her cheeks."Gazta! That's enough!" Haribit snapped from beside her. The girl was the closest she had to a friend. She had been assigned to the castle for over a year, usually the Handmaids only stayed a few months but Haribit's land was poor and her father thought being closer to court would land her a good marriage. Unfortunately for him, Isilla, the princess she was tasked with did not live inside the castle walls. "Don't let her get to you Isilla, you know the southerners have no class."Gazta made a dismissive noise in her throat and looked out the window, the girl next to her laughed quietly behind her sleeve. Isilla lifted her chalk to apologize for Haribit but then decided not to. Gazta would be gone in a few weeks anyway.The girl mumbled outside to no one in particular, "Some princess, can't even do simple magic."Isilla crinkled her nose but decided to ignore the jab. Gatza was right, she couldn't do magic but she was a princess and she was on her way to marry her prince.What do you think he's like? she asked showing the board to Haribit.The girl pulled closer to her, letting their legs touch. Inside the bubble of Isilla's silence the other girls wouldn't be able to hear. "You've already asked that," she said rolling her eyes.Isilla wiped the board with her sleeve, I know, just tell me again."I'm sure he's very nice. You're the one that has been writing to him. How did he seem? He was very handsome in his portrait."She let out a breath remembering the portrait that he had sent. His dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, his eyes, ice blue over a perfect nose. He was very handsome. A true Prince. The best marriage she could hope for given her affliction.She tugged at a stray curl of hair. He had responded favorably to her portrait but it had been a picture of her at what could be her best. Her honey colored skin was clear and free of the chalk dust that followed her like a cloud. Her hair had been pulled into a pleasing array of braids and beads just for the sitting. Now after weeks of travel her hair was in its normal state of curly red puff. The girls had tried to tame it with braids but it seemed dedicated to unwinding itself. I'm a mess. He's going to hate me, she wrote on the board.Haribit fussed at her, "Hush, after your wedding night you two will be able to get to know each other better."She pushed her hand down to fix Isilla's hair. She tucked the flyaway strands behind her ear and pulled the swiftly coming undone mess into a braid. "Well, it may not look very Princess like but it's better than nothing. I'm sure we'll have time get you changed and cleaned up before you meet anyone important."There was a knock on the side of the carriage. One of the guards was leaning over from his horse, a creature that delighted Isilla, she had never seen one before their arrival in the Dark Kingdom. His face filled the window "We'll be at the palace within the hour," catching sight of Isilla he frowned, "The Prince has asked that you make sure his sister is presentable."Isilla nodded running her hands over her hair and dress."You're getting chalk all over everything," Gazta pointed out.She stopped and folded her hands in her lap, over the board. Haribit wiped at her hair and dress, attempting to clean it up but they all knew it was no use. The third girl giggled again but after a look from Haribit they all went to work on her, using delicate squares of silk to clean her off as best they could."Well, I think that's as best as we can do. We'll get the rest when we get to the palace," Haribit said settling back in her seat.Gazta snorted, "I don't know why you bother. She's not a proper princess anyway. She can't do any magic."Isilla looked down at herself letting the insult slide. The girl was right. That's probably why Father was so eager to be rid of me. Cursed to silence, no magic. I can't even keep my clothes presentable, she thought. The streaks of chalk were still there on the orange and gold gown but they were far less noticeable. She stopped her hands from reaching up to fiddle with her hair.I'll have time to change, she scrawled on the board.Haribit, smiling, nodded in agreement.The clean-up effort had taken longer than expected, the carriage was slowing to a stop. She could feel butterflies in her stomach. This place will be my new home, she thought to herself feeling her nerves spike, the butterflies turning into nervous aches. It was cold but she felt hot, sweat poured from her. I'm going to meet my husband today, she reminded herself as she attempted to sooth her nerves by shifting her focus to the kindness of his letters.The girls were chattering among themselves, this was everyone's first trip to the Dark Kingdom. The lands had been forbidden during the war but that was over now. The Prince's letters had described the kingdom to her. He wrote in meticulous detail about the lands, its charms, enough so she could imagine it but she had never seen it.His words had not captured what it was like once they passed through the chasm between the Kingdoms. A land twisted by Nightmares, it was darker and colder than her own desert lands, the Light Realm. The plants were deep colors and everything was cast in shadow. Unlike her homeland, the buildings were all of stone and metal, the people were paler as was the sun itself. But Isilla had found a sort of beauty. At night, the flowers sparkled and some glowed. The stones and metal gleamed under the moon. Not home, but maybe she could get used to it. She would have to.The door swung open, her brother's smiling face met hers. He looked nothing like her, where she was messy he was perfect. Where she was gaudy he was refined. His hair was a deep auburn over smooth face. He frowned for a moment then sighed. Holding out his hand he whispered, "Come on, Chalky. I suppose we can get you cleaned up in the palace."She frowned and took his hand, letting him lead her out of the carriage. The look of dismay was quickly replaced as she set eyes upon the towering dark spires of the palace. The castle was made from smoke stone, the dark material glittered in places, like glass. It stretched impossibly high against the dingy blue of the sky. She knew from the Prince's letters that inside it twisted like a maze, the halls lined with false windows that showed a world outside where none existed or suddenly ended in large untended gardens. Ceilings and floors dropped away suddenly, without warning. This is it, she thought starting up at the castle, this is my new life.She looked, her eyes passing over the crowd to catch glimpses of the outside world that would soon be closed to her. She was thankful for the long trip to the palace, she hardly felt ready to face things even after it."Welcome to the Dark Kingdom, dear sister," her brother whispered to her, his voice cruel in her ear.
