It is the season for love and murder in the court of Ravaeryn.
After a chance encounter one winter night, Lady Catarina de Fontaine had fallen hopelessly in love with Julian, the Crown Prince. However, upon discovering his untruthfulness, she immedi...
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1712, Aethiel Palace, Kestramore City
Demitria stood aghast by her study table, stunned by the contents of the letter. It was a simple letter, three sentences in all, written on a piece of blue-tinted paper that somehow smelled like the ocean. Those three sentences that came from the tip of Maximilian's quill, were enough to throw her world into a state of chaos.
"Demi, have you seen Pouf? Ursula said that she saw him near your room-"
Marcus's words came to a stop when he noticed how red his sister's face was, and then he saw the piece of paper in her grasp, which was clenched so tightly that he thought it would just disintegrate into nothingness.
"Sister, are you alright?" he asked cautiously.
Still in disbelief, Demitria turned to face her youngest brother, and shakily, she said, "I believe that the king of Amaris intends to ask for my hand in marriage."
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Never in her life had the prospect of being married come so close to her. As a child, she was told by her mother that she would someday marry Prince Dominique of Phoenicia, and so, she spent all her childhood days learning the customs and language of the kingdom.
"Na vi et voleur mer," was one of the phrases that Demitria remembered best. What does it mean, you might ask? I like to eat shellfish. Well, to be fair, Demitria did fancy herself some clams and scallops.
Then, out of the blue, when the wedding arrangements were being made, Dominique went ahead and eloped with a Lecarrian duchess, claiming that it was love at first sight, and that an arranged marriage will only bring pain to all parties involved. Which is true. Demitria respected their courage. Hell, she even found it admirable. But what she did not find pleasant was being seen as the other woman, the foreign princess who was abandoned despite her family's great expanse of wealth. To further add fire to the flame, the Lecarrian duchess in question was raised in destitution, and despite her lack of expensive brocade and jewellery, Prince Dominique was struck dumb by her beauty.
Again, fairytale material. For months, Demitria would stare at the mirror for hours on end, wondering if there was something wrong with her face. Of course, she found nothing wrong, only an abundance of beauty, but that is another story. To tell the truth, Demitria had not been so keen on marrying Prince Dominique. She had seen his portraits and corresponded with him, and he did seem like a decent man. However, she did not love him, and he did not love her. It was a marriage of convenience, and he had the courage to pursue his true love whereas she did not.
