Chapter one Escaping the magic
My stepmother had always been, for lack of a better word, wicked. Not as Queen Jane's of Keyll had been, but wicked in a magical sort of way. I sensed it on her very first visit to the castle, when she was just a noble women paying her respects to the recently deceased wife of King Charlie.
Of course admitting to sensing magic itself would have been an act of treason. For all use of magic has been outlawed in Tíogar for the last eighteen years. In fact the law was passed the day after I was born. The King's- my father's reason being that magic was too powerful of a weapon to be wielded by just anyone. Many neighboring countries had already been scourged by the draidora for years and when the troubles started reaching our borders my father decided enough was enough. He proclaimed that any draidora, magic users, would be imprisoned and if they repeated the offence, put to death.
Being my father's first and only heir, I am next in line to the throne. Meaning I've been subjected to rigorous training and tutoring to be a capable leader for our people. No lesson thus far had ever left quite as big of an impression on me as the one where I learned that magic had been banned. For it was the first time I disagreed with my father's decision. I didn't understand why the use of magic had to be completely illegal. Surely there were ways to just curb the power of the draidora, to have them on our side? They couldn't all be evil, for they were still humans, containing equal capacities to good and evil.
I couldn't understand why my father didn't see the possibilities of draidora in court, they could help with the crops, with sickness and disease. There were so many ways our countrymen could have benefited if we had tried to accept the draidora when they first came into our lands. Our neighboring countries that had been attacked true, but those countries had attacked the draidora first. Hoping to steal their powers or merely killing them out of fear. Tíogar had done no such thing, so becoming allies could have still been a possibility.
Naturally I couldn't voice my opinions to my father, not only would he become enraged but he wouldn't take my views into account anyway. Our relationship wasn't close enough for that. My father has always been a closed-off man and he never showed any outwardly affection towards me, though I knew he loved me. My mother, the late Queen Renée, always said he just wasn't capable of showing it.
After my mother's death my father became even more distant and I only saw him during formal occasions such as festivals or when foreign dignitaries came to visit. I think the nature of my mother's death was the reason, and because I was her mirror image. People always used to say I looked just like her. Same ivory skin, white as freshly fallen snow. Same wavy, chestnut brown hair and golden brown eyes. The same blood-red lips. Yes it had been painfully obvious that I was my mother's daughter. Which made grieving after her death all the more difficult, for each time I saw myself I was reminded of her.
The way my mother died is still a mystery, one day she had been perfectly healthy singing me my favorite song. And then suddenly she fell, fainted without warning. Of course we employed all the best physicians and alchemists but to no avail. Just three days later, my mother was dead.
Anyhow back to my stepmother, Queen of Tíogar, or as I call her Esme.
It was quite a surprise to me to see my father get remarried. His grief after my mother's death had been so raw, I thought he would never get over it. Many of the people speculated he would die from a broken heart.
So when one day, nine months after Renée's death he announced that he would marry Lady Esme, to say the court was shocked would be an understatement.
In the beginning I tried to be friendly towards her, though I sensed her magic. But all of my efforts were rebuffed. It was obvious she did not want any contact with me at all. I was angered by this and wary of her, though I still feigned politeness at court gatherings.
But after a few weeks I settled down, she was my father's new wife after all and there wasn't anything I could do to change that. Besides she left me well enough alone, and nothing really changed for me.
Until that day.
Six months after my father's marriage I went up to Esme's chambers, the hunter she had commissioned had arrived and was waiting for her in the throne room. I was about to knock on the door when I heard a male voice talking to my stepmother.
"Now Esme, you know she can't be left alive. I see more than you, the daughter knows. The only reason she hasn't accused you is because she has no proof! But one day, one day she will have her proof and then it will be all over for you. For us! But especially for him. And you don't want that now do you, daarrrling." The man purred.
'No! Please! But surely she wouldn't, I mean how can she possibly prove anything without ousting herself?" Esme replied, her voice quivering.
"Are you prepared to take that risk? To risk his life in that way?" The man said savagely.
Esme sighed and it took a while before she answered: " If there is no other way," she breathed in deeply, "then it must be done."
I slowly backed away from the door, the truth of what I had just heard not quite sinking in. Esme and this-this man she was conversing with were planning to kill me! For what other daughter could they possibly be referring to?
I knew I needed to escape. I knew I needed to flee before she got the chance to fulfill her evil plans. The only thing I didn't know was how to man could have possibly know I sensed Esme's magic. Who was he? How had he slipped into the palace without anyone knowing?
These thoughts filled my head as I rushed to my chambers, flinging my saddlebag onto my bed. I quickly grabbed the essentials: riding trousers, shirts, hair ribbons, some coins and a short, sharp dagger. Finally I wrote a quick note placing it on my bed. It read:
Dear father,
Though it pains me to leave you, I've been having too difficult of a time following mother's death. I fear that court life has only amplified my grief. To properly lament mother's death I feel I have no other choice than to retire to our home in the countryside. I will be back as soon as I am able.
Much love,
Your daughter Bella
Hoping my father's distance would be enough for him not to verify my story, I slipped out to the stables. The stable master wasn't there, luck being on my side for once, and I was able to saddle my horse and ride off without anyone seeing me.
I rode hard and fast, my horse Gray understanding me as always, ran as hard as she could sensing my urgency. I just wished I had taken the time to look back, for if I had I would have seen the hunter tailing after me.
