HEARTS OF CROWS

PRELUDE

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There is electricity in the evening air. The King is hosting a buffet for all the folk within a three mile radius of his castle, including the Bohun family. The King does not discriminate; a lesson he took heed in from past custodians of Halezia. The rich dine beside the poor in his courtyard and he sits on his throne; enshrouded in harmony as he watches his people residing in unity.

Unity, this was his exact proposal—one the Bohun's did not refuse.

The Queen reaches over and places a warm hand on his, her eyes travel to the shadow in the castle walls. The King smiles as he follows her line of sight and beckons for the shadow to join them. A glimmer from the Princesses' gown catches the attention of a few as her shadow shifts from the arched window, disappearing from view.

The King looks over to his wife, a soft expression on his face. "It's time," he breathes, adjusting his garments and standing from his throne. He holds a hand out for his Queen, Reverie of Grihaia, and she takes his side with the sort of grace that can only mastered by royalty.

A gradual silence falls over the rows of people as they notice their monarchs are ready to speak. All eyes set upon the ruling pair, but this short spell is broken when Devereux Bohun is summoned by the King.

The broad-shouldered man emerges from a sheltered corner of the room. He strides to the King as though the only gaze on his body is that of his mother's—he is at ease. Devereux is a man of both power and pride, a tongue of charm and a mind as sharp as the dagger hidden in the folds of his clothes. Above all else, he is most admired by the King and Queen.

At least, that's what it seems.

They have already granted him the position of a Vassal, one which is held by all the living male Bohuns in Halezia. They collectively rule one sixth of the kingdom under the trust of King Eemeli himself. This particular Bohun's position is about to be heightened.

It's only when Devereux bows before the King that he feels the weight of a thousand pairs of eyes.

Through the silence, the click of a door travels upon each ear. The Princess Lena de Clare glides across the room to take her stand before the congregation with her parents, but not before she presses a kiss to their right cheeks. The Princess continues her search of the crowd from her new position. It's been a year since she last saw her love and the foolishness of her heart has led her to believe he would be at the banquet this evening.

The Queen delicately rests a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Princess Lena sighs to herself, giving up her search.

The King takes a mighty step forward and thrusts out his chest, he has news to entertain the guests. "We are here on this beautiful night to celebrate the engagement of my daughter, Princess Lena de Clare with Vassal Devereux Bohun. Enjoy the feast my people," laughs the King, spreading his arms, "the celebrations have only just begun."

Conversation sets the previous silence in flames and the King turns to his daughter, only to realise that she has gone.

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