Chapter 2
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She forced her eyes away from the intimidating architecture and back to the gathered crowd. The members of Dark Kingdom's court were assembled before them. Isilla's eyes swept the crowd. Everyone wore dark colors, greens, purples, and deep blues. All the ladies had perfectly done hair. The Prince was not among them.
An older man stepped from the crowd, his voice high with a thick accent as he spoke in the language of her homeland, "Greetings Prince Argia, Princess Isilla. Welcome to the Dark Kingdom! We are all so pleased to have you with us. I am the Lord Chancellor Harrin. I will take you to the Prince who acts on his father's behalf as you do to finalize the treaty and let your sister," here he paused sneering slightly, "tidy up."
She looked down at her shoes gripping her board tightly. I've already made a fool of myself, she thought.
Argia smiled, "Of course, you'll have to excuse my sister. I'm afraid she hasn't had much sleep and it shows. She's been so excited to meet her husband."
She smiled weakly, agreeing with him.
"Oh of course! Yes, well the Prince is very keen on meeting her as well. Please, let us show you the palace," he said bowing.
The crowd of people parted before her, allowing them entry. From the corners of her eyes she caught the ladies whispering from behind fans as she passed. She forced herself to pass without reacting. Her brother walked on one side of her and behind her she could hear the whisper of her handmaid's skirts as they passed.
Once inside the doors shut, blocking out what little light from the sun there was. The entry hall was dark and lit with candles. A cool draft wafted around them. Isilla shivered pulling her sleeves tighter. Around her she could hear the clicking heels of the court as they walked. The inside was made of the same dark smoke stone as the outside. The glass like grays were twisted with dark shadows that found their way to the ceiling to be lost. Everything was dark and empty.
The Chancellor was pointing out highlights of the palace as they journeyed deeper inside. There portraits of past kings, designs in tapestries. Isilla tried to focus on it but her thoughts raced, is this where I will be spending the rest of my life?
The Chancellor stopped in one of the winding halls before a large door, "The Inner Garden," he announced pushing the doors open. Light spilled out arching through the dark hallway. "A commission that one of our past queens, three centuries ago, had built after a visit to your lands. Princess, please," he said motioning her into the room.
She nodded and slid past her brother into the room blinking the darkness out her eyes. The space was small, the size of a bedroom, bursting with flowers. They were from the Light Kingdom, she recognized them, dropping red blood lilies, the delicate white petals of the winter's fall. She looked at the ceiling expecting to see skylights but found a painted sun. An enchanted space that mimicked the Light Kingdom's sky. Her home.
"I hope this room pleases you princess. You will wait here until the Prince is ready to see you," the Chancellor said briskly bowing. Her handmaids moved to join her but he waved his hand before them, "That will not be necessary. She will be waited on by ladies of our court."
Isilla's eyes widened and she stepped forward holding her hand up. Before she could reach into her chalk pouch to scribble her objections her brother stepped forward.
"Sister," he said grabbing at her hands and forcing them down. He let go a moment later, stepping back, "Of course you're upset but don't worry, change is a natural part of life. You do a great thing here. I'm sure your new maids will be just as capable."
She frowned as he stepped back and left the room. The Chancellor shut the door behind him.
Alone Isilla sat on the stone bench in the center of the room. She laid the board next to her. Gripping her hands tightly in her lap, she started taking deep even breaths to bring the rising panic in her down. The minutes passed slowly building on each other as the tears were building up in her eyes.
The trip had been taxing. She and her handmaids had been moving from inn to inn for a month making their way overland to palace. She was exhausted and now utterly alone. She closed her eyes and tears leaked from beneath the lids.
Oh let them fall, I'm a mess anyway, she thought as the hot tears rolled down her face and splattered onto her hands.
"You shouldn't cry, Princess, it's your wedding day," a deep voice said somewhere to her left. The accent was much lighter than the Chancellor's had been but still there.
She turned quickly wiping her face with her hands, smudging chalk dust onto her cheeks. He was tall, his hair pitch black with loose, short curls. His skin was pale, his eyes a muddy green color. He held his head slightly to the side, examining her before he straightened and brushed his curls back from his forehead.
Scrambling for her board, she wrote, Who are you?
He glanced at it briefly. He smiled without answering and sat next to her. Taking her chin in one large hand he began dabbing at her cheeks gently wiping away the trails of tears and dust with his handkerchief. He stopped, lowering the handkerchief but keeping her face captive, "You've eyes like glass. They're so gray they look clear."
She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and pulled away from him. She held the board up for him again and tapped it gently,
"Why are you crying?" he asked gently.
Why am I crying? she thought to herself looking away from the stranger, fixing her gaze on the blood lilies. Her chalk hovered over the board. I can talk about how I feel or I can use this time.
She wrote quickly, Do you know the Prince?
He read the note and snickered, "Yes, of course."
She turned the board back to herself and erased the last question with her sleeve and held the chalk still for a moment before continuing, He seemed very kind in his letters. Is he kind?
The man's face fell, the easy amusement that had been there before was gone. There was a sort of sadness about him that she couldn't place, "Do not believe the letters. They were," he paused for a moment searching for the right words, "not as they seemed. The Prince is not kind but he will not harm you."
She nodded and erased her question replacing it with, Thank you.
The man thought for a moment, his eyes swept over her features. He reached out and pushed the fly away bits of her hair back, trailing down the side of her face gently. "You don't have to do this," he said softly.
What? the chalk made soft scratches across the board.
"Marry the Prince. You can return home. To your lands. There is nothing here but darkness, Isilla."
Her name on his lips shocked her. His hand still stroked her face, his eyes focused on her face, waiting. Her heart beat quickly, his touch made butterflies in her stomach. She knew that she should push his hand away, but it was nice to be touched. No matter how fleeting. Finally, she shook her head and smiled.
It's my duty to do this, she wrote.
Standing he reached for her hand, "Be well Princess, we will not meet like this again," he said softly before pressing his lips against her knuckles. His lips were soft against her hand and she felt her heart beat quicken in her chest. Releasing her he stepped back, bowing slightly as the shadows of the room reached out and swallowed him. When they cleared, like smoke, he was gone.
A royal! I wonder who that was? It doesn't matter, I'll probably meet him at the wedding, she thought as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
She turned as the door opened revealing the Chancellor.
"My Lady," he bowed, "Please follow me. The treaty has been signed, you are to be married now."
Panic shot through but she calmed herself picking up the board and willing herself to breathe.
Everything will be fine, she thought to herself leaving the warmth of the garden and stepping into the darkness of the hall after the Chancellor.
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She forced her eyes away from the intimidating architecture and back to the gathered crowd. The members of Dark Kingdom's court were assembled before them. Isilla's eyes swept the crowd. Everyone wore dark colors, greens, purples, and deep blues. All the ladies had perfectly done hair. The Prince was not among them.
An older man stepped from the crowd, his voice high with a thick accent as he spoke in the language of her homeland, "Greetings Prince Argia, Princess Isilla. Welcome to the Dark Kingdom! We are all so pleased to have you with us. I am the Lord Chancellor Harrin. I will take you to the Prince who acts on his father's behalf as you do to finalize the treaty and let your sister," here he paused sneering slightly, "tidy up."
She looked down at her shoes gripping her board tightly. I've already made a fool of myself, she thought.
Argia smiled, "Of course, you'll have to excuse my sister. I'm afraid she hasn't had much sleep and it shows. She's been so excited to meet her husband."
She smiled weakly, agreeing with him.
"Oh of course! Yes, well the Prince is very keen on meeting her as well. Please, let us show you the palace," he said bowing.
The crowd of people parted before her, allowing them entry. From the corners of her eyes she caught the ladies whispering from behind fans as she passed. She forced herself to pass without reacting. Her brother walked on one side of her and behind her she could hear the whisper of her handmaid's skirts as they passed.
Once inside the doors shut, blocking out what little light from the sun there was. The entry hall was dark and lit with candles. A cool draft wafted around them. Isilla shivered pulling her sleeves tighter. Around her she could hear the clicking heels of the court as they walked. The inside was made of the same dark smoke stone as the outside. The glass like grays were twisted with dark shadows that found their way to the ceiling to be lost. Everything was dark and empty.
The Chancellor was pointing out highlights of the palace as they journeyed deeper inside. There portraits of past kings, designs in tapestries. Isilla tried to focus on it but her thoughts raced, is this where I will be spending the rest of my life?
The Chancellor stopped in one of the winding halls before a large door, "The Inner Garden," he announced pushing the doors open. Light spilled out arching through the dark hallway. "A commission that one of our past queens, three centuries ago, had built after a visit to your lands. Princess, please," he said motioning her into the room.
She nodded and slid past her brother into the room blinking the darkness out her eyes. The space was small, the size of a bedroom, bursting with flowers. They were from the Light Kingdom, she recognized them, dropping red blood lilies, the delicate white petals of the winter's fall. She looked at the ceiling expecting to see skylights but found a painted sun. An enchanted space that mimicked the Light Kingdom's sky. Her home.
"I hope this room pleases you princess. You will wait here until the Prince is ready to see you," the Chancellor said briskly bowing. Her handmaids moved to join her but he waved his hand before them, "That will not be necessary. She will be waited on by ladies of our court."
Isilla's eyes widened and she stepped forward holding her hand up. Before she could reach into her chalk pouch to scribble her objections her brother stepped forward.
"Sister," he said grabbing at her hands and forcing them down. He let go a moment later, stepping back, "Of course you're upset but don't worry, change is a natural part of life. You do a great thing here. I'm sure your new maids will be just as capable."
She frowned as he stepped back and left the room. The Chancellor shut the door behind him.
Alone Isilla sat on the stone bench in the center of the room. She laid the board next to her. Gripping her hands tightly in her lap, she started taking deep even breaths to bring the rising panic in her down. The minutes passed slowly building on each other as the tears were building up in her eyes.
The trip had been taxing. She and her handmaids had been moving from inn to inn for a month making their way overland to palace. She was exhausted and now utterly alone. She closed her eyes and tears leaked from beneath the lids.
Oh let them fall, I'm a mess anyway, she thought as the hot tears rolled down her face and splattered onto her hands.
"You shouldn't cry, Princess, it's your wedding day," a deep voice said somewhere to her left. The accent was much lighter than the Chancellor's had been but still there.
She turned quickly wiping her face with her hands, smudging chalk dust onto her cheeks. He was tall, his hair pitch black with loose, short curls. His skin was pale, his eyes a muddy green color. He held his head slightly to the side, examining her before he straightened and brushed his curls back from his forehead.
Scrambling for her board, she wrote, Who are you?
He glanced at it briefly. He smiled without answering and sat next to her. Taking her chin in one large hand he began dabbing at her cheeks gently wiping away the trails of tears and dust with his handkerchief. He stopped, lowering the handkerchief but keeping her face captive, "You've eyes like glass. They're so gray they look clear."
She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and pulled away from him. She held the board up for him again and tapped it gently,
"Why are you crying?" he asked gently.
Why am I crying? she thought to herself looking away from the stranger, fixing her gaze on the blood lilies. Her chalk hovered over the board. I can talk about how I feel or I can use this time.
She wrote quickly, Do you know the Prince?
He read the note and snickered, "Yes, of course."
She turned the board back to herself and erased the last question with her sleeve and held the chalk still for a moment before continuing, He seemed very kind in his letters. Is he kind?
The man's face fell, the easy amusement that had been there before was gone. There was a sort of sadness about him that she couldn't place, "Do not believe the letters. They were," he paused for a moment searching for the right words, "not as they seemed. The Prince is not kind but he will not harm you."
She nodded and erased her question replacing it with, Thank you.
The man thought for a moment, his eyes swept over her features. He reached out and pushed the fly away bits of her hair back, trailing down the side of her face gently. "You don't have to do this," he said softly.
What? the chalk made soft scratches across the board.
"Marry the Prince. You can return home. To your lands. There is nothing here but darkness, Isilla."
Her name on his lips shocked her. His hand still stroked her face, his eyes focused on her face, waiting. Her heart beat quickly, his touch made butterflies in her stomach. She knew that she should push his hand away, but it was nice to be touched. No matter how fleeting. Finally, she shook her head and smiled.
It's my duty to do this, she wrote.
Standing he reached for her hand, "Be well Princess, we will not meet like this again," he said softly before pressing his lips against her knuckles. His lips were soft against her hand and she felt her heart beat quicken in her chest. Releasing her he stepped back, bowing slightly as the shadows of the room reached out and swallowed him. When they cleared, like smoke, he was gone.
A royal! I wonder who that was? It doesn't matter, I'll probably meet him at the wedding, she thought as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
She turned as the door opened revealing the Chancellor.
"My Lady," he bowed, "Please follow me. The treaty has been signed, you are to be married now."
Panic shot through but she calmed herself picking up the board and willing herself to breathe.
Everything will be fine, she thought to herself leaving the warmth of the garden and stepping into the darkness of the hall after the Chancellor.
She forced her eyes away from the intimidating architecture and back to the gathered crowd. The members of Dark Kingdom's court were assembled before them. Isilla's eyes swept the crowd. Everyone wore dark colors, greens, purples, and deep blues. All the ladies had perfectly done hair. The Prince was not among them.An older man stepped from the crowd, his voice high with a thick accent as he spoke in the language of her homeland, "Greetings Prince Argia, Princess Isilla. Welcome to the Dark Kingdom! We are all so pleased to have you with us. I am the Lord Chancellor Harrin. I will take you to the Prince who acts on his father's behalf as you do to finalize the treaty and let your sister," here he paused sneering slightly, "tidy up."She looked down at her shoes gripping her board tightly. I've already made a fool of myself, she thought.Argia smiled, "Of course, you'll have to excuse my sister. I'm afraid she hasn't had much sleep and it shows. She's been so excited to meet her husband."She smiled weakly, agreeing with him."Oh of course! Yes, well the Prince is very keen on meeting her as well. Please, let us show you the palace," he said bowing.The crowd of people parted before her, allowing them entry. From the corners of her eyes she caught the ladies whispering from behind fans as she passed. She forced herself to pass without reacting. Her brother walked on one side of her and behind her she could hear the whisper of her handmaid's skirts as they passed.Once inside the doors shut, blocking out what little light from the sun there was. The entry hall was dark and lit with candles. A cool draft wafted around them. Isilla shivered pulling her sleeves tighter. Around her she could hear the clicking heels of the court as they walked. The inside was made of the same dark smoke stone as the outside. The glass like grays were twisted with dark shadows that found their way to the ceiling to be lost. Everything was dark and empty.The Chancellor was pointing out highlights of the palace as they journeyed deeper inside. There portraits of past kings, designs in tapestries. Isilla tried to focus on it but her thoughts raced, is this where I will be spending the rest of my life?The Chancellor stopped in one of the winding halls before a large door, "The Inner Garden," he announced pushing the doors open. Light spilled out arching through the dark hallway. "A commission that one of our past queens, three centuries ago, had built after a visit to your lands. Princess, please," he said motioning her into the room.She nodded and slid past her brother into the room blinking the darkness out her eyes. The space was small, the size of a bedroom, bursting with flowers. They were from the Light Kingdom, she recognized them, dropping red blood lilies, the delicate white petals of the winter's fall. She looked at the ceiling expecting to see skylights but found a painted sun. An enchanted space that mimicked the Light Kingdom's sky. Her home."I hope this room pleases you princess. You will wait here until the Prince is ready to see you," the Chancellor said briskly bowing. Her handmaids moved to join her but he waved his hand before them, "That will not be necessary. She will be waited on by ladies of our court."Isilla's eyes widened and she stepped forward holding her hand up. Before she could reach into her chalk pouch to scribble her objections her brother stepped forward."Sister," he said grabbing at her hands and forcing them down. He let go a moment later, stepping back, "Of course you're upset but don't worry, change is a natural part of life. You do a great thing here. I'm sure your new maids will be just as capable."She frowned as he stepped back and left the room. The Chancellor shut the door behind him.Alone Isilla sat on the stone bench in the center of the room. She laid the board next to her. Gripping her hands tightly in her lap, she started taking deep even breaths to bring the rising panic in her down. The minutes passed slowly building on each other as the tears were building up in her eyes.The trip had been taxing. She and her handmaids had been moving from inn to inn for a month making their way overland to palace. She was exhausted and now utterly alone. She closed her eyes and tears leaked from beneath the lids.Oh let them fall, I'm a mess anyway, she thought as the hot tears rolled down her face and splattered onto her hands."You shouldn't cry, Princess, it's your wedding day," a deep voice said somewhere to her left. The accent was much lighter than the Chancellor's had been but still there.She turned quickly wiping her face with her hands, smudging chalk dust onto her cheeks. He was tall, his hair pitch black with loose, short curls. His skin was pale, his eyes a muddy green color. He held his head slightly to the side, examining her before he straightened and brushed his curls back from his forehead.Scrambling for her board, she wrote, Who are you?He glanced at it briefly. He smiled without answering and sat next to her. Taking her chin in one large hand he began dabbing at her cheeks gently wiping away the trails of tears and dust with his handkerchief. He stopped, lowering the handkerchief but keeping her face captive, "You've eyes like glass. They're so gray they look clear."She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and pulled away from him. She held the board up for him again and tapped it gently,"Why are you crying?" he asked gently.Why am I crying? she thought to herself looking away from the stranger, fixing her gaze on the blood lilies. Her chalk hovered over the board. I can talk about how I feel or I can use this time.She wrote quickly, Do you know the Prince?He read the note and snickered, "Yes, of course."She turned the board back to herself and erased the last question with her sleeve and held the chalk still for a moment before continuing, He seemed very kind in his letters. Is he kind?The man's face fell, the easy amusement that had been there before was gone. There was a sort of sadness about him that she couldn't place, "Do not believe the letters. They were," he paused for a moment searching for the right words, "not as they seemed. The Prince is not kind but he will not harm you."She nodded and erased her question replacing it with, Thank you.The man thought for a moment, his eyes swept over her features. He reached out and pushed the fly away bits of her hair back, trailing down the side of her face gently. "You don't have to do this," he said softly.What? the chalk made soft scratches across the board."Marry the Prince. You can return home. To your lands. There is nothing here but darkness, Isilla."Her name on his lips shocked her. His hand still stroked her face, his eyes focused on her face, waiting. Her heart beat quickly, his touch made butterflies in her stomach. She knew that she should push his hand away, but it was nice to be touched. No matter how fleeting. Finally, she shook her head and smiled.It's my duty to do this, she wrote.Standing he reached for her hand, "Be well Princess, we will not meet like this again," he said softly before pressing his lips against her knuckles. His lips were soft against her hand and she felt her heart beat quicken in her chest. Releasing her he stepped back, bowing slightly as the shadows of the room reached out and swallowed him. When they cleared, like smoke, he was gone.A royal! I wonder who that was? It doesn't matter, I'll probably meet him at the wedding, she thought as she tucked her hair behind her ears.She turned as the door opened revealing the Chancellor."My Lady," he bowed, "Please follow me. The treaty has been signed, you are to be married now."Panic shot through but she calmed herself picking up the board and willing herself to breathe.Everything will be fine, she thought to herself leaving the warmth of the garden and stepping into the darkness of the hall after the Chancellor.
