Sapphire Bones & Carnelian Blood

Chapter One

The scarlet chiffon hung loosely off the hips, sighing as it swept the floor with every slow, calculated step. The bodice clung to the curve of my breasts, showing just enough skin to tantalize the senses. The fabric gathered just below the navel, falling gracefully around modest heels with strappy, tan leather that crisscrossed up thin, muscular calves. They were only ever visible as I raised my skirts to descend the grand marble staircase on the northside of the manor.

Four pairs of eyes turned their attention to me as I entered the formal dining room. With a fake smile plastered on my face, I politely bowed my head towards this evening's guests. I was unsure how many more of my mother's insufferable dinner parties I could take; it seemed that every week brought new guests to the table. This week they harbored a noble pairing from the river district.

"Lord and Lady Beaumont," I said by way of greeting, sliding into the empty chair beside my mother. My father was seated next to Lord Beumont, and both men smiled up at me - although perhaps with differing intentions.

The lord inclined his head in my general direction, unwilling to break conversation with the king in order to say a proper hello. The queen turned to me, disdainfully taking in the low neckline of my chosen dinner attire. Fortunately, Lady Beaumont spoke before she was able to spit out a passive aggressive comment that I would be unable to retort in polite company.

"Seraphina, how have your studies been coming on?"

"Fine." I began picking at my food, pushing it around with no clear intent of actually eating. "Ms. Caldwell is a talented tutor."

My mother, always eager to interject when she felt she was losing control of the conversation, slowly batted her long lashes across the table at us. "Although, as of yet, she has not shown any signs of her gift, or any magical affinity for that matter."

I scowled down at my plate, unwilling to let my mother see that her words had landed their mark. Lady Beaumont- as eager as ever to avoid the drama her friend was so keen on causing- said something she hoped would be comforting, beginning an anecdote about a cousin of hers who didn't show signs of his gift until he was in his forties.

The gift she spoke of was one that most children of nobility begin to acquire around the time they turn 13. Even if all you can see of it at that age is a spark of this or a touch of that. At 23, I, as the princess of the Carnelian kingdom, had not even discovered the smallest inkling of magic within me, despite the long hours spent studying and training with Ms. Caldwell. In Cyllesia, magic was as common place a thing to learn as reading and writing. Even those without a specific affinity can learn basic magic like wards or summoning. However to be a child of nobility and not develop an affinity for the stronger types of magic tied to their kingdom would be seen as a disgrace and a plague upon the family name. The shame would be twofold considering I was born to two of the most powerful mages in the last century. Magic should come as naturally as breathing to someone of my lineage. The Queen had the power of mental manipulation, able to bend others to her will. The King was a master of illusions, able to seemingly change the environment around him to show others exactly what he wanted them to see.

Since the day of my birth was announced, the eyes of the kingdom have been set on me. They expected me to become this strong, capable leader with an immense pool of magic in my blood, able to rule my future kingdom with a strong hand. As the years went by, most began to wonder if their future Queen would be nothing more than a doormat, unable to properly command a kingdom on my own. In spite of the fact that I trained with every ounce of energy I could muster and had all but mastered the basic magic of the Carnelian court, able to throw up a mental shield strong enough to keep even my mother out, it was not enough. My tiny victories shadowed in comparison to the alcove of magic my mother and father could wield.