Prologue

A man, curse to wear the face of his crimes, a young woman, enchanted from birth; these two thrown together by a war of good versus evil. Can true love overcome enchantments and end a war that has been waged for a hundred years? Only time will tell...

Chapter 1

~Once Upon A Time~

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful young woman named RoseBelle. She was blessed with a heart full of compassion, a talent for the arts, and an enchantment unlike any other. She was the daughter of an enchantress and therefore endowed at birth with special powers. It was prophesied that she would be the key to ending the war that has ravaged the lands of Arturia and BlackHeathe, and the whole of the Land of Astoria, for hundreds of years. However, if she is to give up herself to love a man, she must give up her life as well. But little does anyone know what magic True Love can overcome. In order that she might live when her mother died, she was given to Melodie Castlebarre, Crown Princess of Arturia, who lives at the edge of the Black Forest called Englewood, as her mother died at the feet of the princess. Melodie ordered a monument be erected in the family cemetery so that the enchantress might be remembered. RoseBelle grew in grace and beauty and became beloved by everyone who knew her, except perhaps by her sisters who were fiercely jealous of her beauty and powers...

As she sat in the parlor reading, RoseBelle became bored with her sisters as they went through the tonnage of fabric their father had brought back from the far east. They were concerned with nothing but themselves and she was sick of it. She rose to leave the parlor, the central hub of the household.

"And just where do you think you're going?" said the eldest Felicitie.

"Riding, that's where," Rose said over her shoulder, not bothering to look back. She kissed her mother's cheek and pranced out of the parlor.

"Ungrateful wretch. Her father brings her things from the east and she's nonplussed to even look at them," Michelle added.

"She is grateful in her own way. Her father brought her that horse per her request and that's enough for her," Melodie tutted, not looking up from her embroidery. She knew her youngest daughter well. Despite her vast difference to her other children and the fact she wasn't of her own blood, she loved RoseBelle the most because she was like half of herself and half of her husband put together. Felicitie and Michelle huffed and went back to examining the fabrics and making their orders for the dressmakers. Neither of the girls liked their youngest sister much, not because she was adopted, but because she was so very different from them. Not only was she the most beautiful, but her character was completely their opposite. She never met a stranger, she held compassion for everyone and never thought of things for herself, but for others. And then of course were her powers. She had an enchanted voice that could calm anyone and everything. Animals loved her, the servants loved her, even strangers loved her; and for that her sisters could barely stand her. Now Rose's twin brothers were the complete opposites of their sisters. They had been raised by their father to have compassion for all and enmity for none. They doted on their little sister and protected her fiercely. Jean-Rene worked with their father in the merchant trade, while Henrie trained in the King's guard. They were home whenever they could be to spend time with RoseBelle and their father. The four of them were inseparable and it was quite a sight for the servants to see four grown men doting over Rose. They often smiled to themselves and chuckled at how silly the men looked hoisting Rose up on their shoulders and playing chicken. Rose's father Jeffrey was in his study with his good friend John Hart and couldn't be coaxed out, so Rose had come out to the stable yard to find Jean-Rene and Henrie locked in a battle for champion of the bulls-eye.

"Hold!" Rose cried as she ran across the grass between her brothers and their targets.

"Rose! For heaven's sake, we could have shot you, little rabbit!" Henrie admonished, dropping his bow.

"Well, I wasn't going to wait for you to be finished! I want to ride my new horse, silly man!" Rose laughed heading into the stables. The brothers ran after her.

"Would you like us to ride with you?" Jean-Rene asked. Taking the pretty gold saddle from her and lifting it onto the champagne mare's back.

"Not today. I think I want to be alone. It's a beautiful day and I want to listen to nature instead of your incessant prating on. Besides, I'm twenty-four now. I think I can ride on my own," she said, taking the tack from her brother. She let it float from her hand and attach itself to the horse on it's own. She never tired of teasing her brothers with her powers.

"Come on Jean, I can see we're not wanted here!" Henrie said, rolling his eyes and teasing right back. Rose caught their arms,

"Another time perhaps, My Dears," she kissed them each on the cheek and they beamed back at her. "Go on and get back to your games, now..." They whooped and ran back to the grassy area that was beginning to turn white with the first light snow of the season. Rose finished saddling her horse, mounted and trotted off towards her favorite woodland path. The snow was being filtered down through the forest by the trees and it was almost magical as two red winter birds lit on her horses head, tweeted their hellos, then flew on. Rose smiled as she watched the animals in their winter preparations, hiding their last few acorns, lining nests with the last few leaves. Then something caught her eye. A silvery white streak passed across her path. She could just make out the form of a wolf. Wolves had long since left these woods and the whole for Arturia for that matter. They'd been forced to move to the mountain areas because of over-hunting. What was a lone wolf doing in these parts,

"Whadayou suppose?" she wondered aloud to herself.

King Ludovic sat shrouded in a black cloak in the middle of the clearing, waiting for his guest to arrive. He was late. Ludovic heard a noise off to his left and turned to see his guest standing there with folded arms, his own black cloak wrapped around him. His hood was up, but through two holes in the top curved a set of horns, slender and curved like those of a buffalo, only they had been etched into with strange symbols. Ludovic smiled an oily smile at the man.

"Ah, Adrian, so good of you to come-"

"Dispense with the pleasantries. It is not good, and I was forced to come, or have you forgotten?"

"I see time has not changed your snippy attitude, my son..."

"I am not your son and you are not my father!" Adrian roared, seeming to fly instantly to loom over the king. The king made a small motion with his hand and Adrian flew backwards into a tree, hitting hard with a great thud. Ludovic waited a moment and let Adrian regain his breath. The cloak hood had fallen back to reveal Adrian's long, dark, gently curling hair and a second set of horns nestled at the base of the others, this pair fat and curved into themselves like the horns of a ram. Adrian's face was dark, a full beard hiding the lower portion of his face except for the edge of his upper lip which was curved like that of a great lion. Above is beard he wore an inky, beautifully damasked mask that covered the upper entirety of his face. His steel blue eyes shot daggers at the king who smirked at him. He hadn't realized the man had become to powerful and it slightly scared him.

"Now, if you've finished with your temper tantrum we shall get down to business. I have called you here to offer you a deal. If you agree to it, it shall absolve you of all of your past crimes and you will be allowed back into BlackHeathe and it's surrounding lands. In fact you would be welcomed back into our kingdom as the Crown Prince you were meant to be," Ludovic said, picking at his glove. Adrian stood and brushed himself off,

"And what must I do to be so greatly rewarded?" he inquired, a heavy layer of sarcasm frosting his words.

"Bring me something that I need. It doesn't matter how you get it, just bring it to me and all will be forgiven." For a brief fraction of a second, Adrian was tempted by this proposition,

"You must tell me exactly what it is you need, so that I may know better how to acquire it,"

"I must tell you nothing. But I will tell you that it is a girl, the youngest daughter of the Crown Princess and her husband. I don't care what you have to do to get her, just bring her to me and you'll have your reward. She is the key to-" but Adrian cut him off.

"I don't care what you need her for, I won't do it. She doesn't deserve to be ripped from her family. I don't know your plans, but I don't need to because I know you. I know your evil and I will have no part of it. The girl should not be witness to such depravity and my kingdom isn't worth it!" he said, nearly through his teeth.

"Your kingdom?! Your kingdom? BlackHeath is mine, you forfeit your ownership of it when you took your sisters and fled upon your mother's death. BlackHeathe and all the lands of Astoria will be mine whether you help me or not. In fact I rather hope you do try to stop me, then I'll have no more excuses not to kill you. If I were you, I'd run very far away, you seem rather adept at doing that. Leave Astoria for if I see you again I will surely kill you where you stand," he said rising and moving off. He fell silent as he reached the tree line and slunk off into the darkness. Adrian was left on his own, rubbing his tender back. It would heal quickly, he knew, as most injuries did, but it didn't stop it from hurting. He was disgusted at what the man had asked of him. He had promised his mother the day she died that he would change. He would strive to right the wrongs he'd done whatever way he could, and he'd done some of that. Stealing from the Black Knights to repay the people he'd caused the most harm to. He knew money wouldn't bring them back their loved ones, nor would it heal the injuries they suffered, but he did what he could until he had been run out every village and town in BlackHeathe and the Black Cliffs entirely. If Ludovic was going to go after this girl, Adrian would do what he could to stop him. He whistled and Zephyr, his silver-white wolf came to his side. He whispered to it and sent it on it's way.

Rose had gently kicked her horse on to follow the wolf, who snaked through the forest. Rose had already lost track of where she was and had unknowingly gone from Englewood, the familiar woods, into the Black Forest, a darker, denser wood that was foreign to her. She'd never been in this part of the woodlands before, not even with her father or brothers, she knew, yet she followed the wolf's path until it came to a small stream. It followed it's edge until the stream emptied out into a wide, yet fairly shallow river. In the middle of the wide river there was a large island covered in tall green grass. The area was rather breathtaking with his crystal clear, green-blue hued water, the stately evergreens that shone in the sun a deep emerald green, but Rose didn't really notice it, she was far too preoccupied by the solitary figure astride a magnificent horse. Both rider and horse were swathed in black. The rider had great horns emanating from his helmet she supposed, and he looked imposing on the great black beast that was his horse. They stood almost frozen out on the island, the horse grazing as it's rider sat atop him, still and quiet. Even from as far away as she was, Rose could see that he was a fearsome sight to behold in his dark finery accented by a black mask. His deep purple scarf gently moved in the light breeze and snowfall. While he might have been frightening to some, he appeared rather melancholy to Rose. She could feel a sadness emanating from him, but before she had a chance to ride forward several knights on horseback emerged from the edge of the forest dressed in dark crimson armour. They came from the far end of the island where it was closest to the forest's edge and they rode hard, quickly overtaking and surrounding the man in black who remained still. The blood knights drew their sabers, forcing the man in black to draw his own in defense. Without a word the knights laid into him. Not a fair fight in the least, Rose thought. She sensed that the man was in no way the evil of those gathered there, added to the fact that he was severely outnumbered, Rose used her powers to create a distraction. A thick mist rose from the river, and around the skirmish came sounds of ferocious animals. She even went so far as to create the illusion of some dark creature pulling one man from his horse and dragging him to the river. A trumpet sounded and as swiftly as they'd come, the knights fell back to where they had emerged and returned from whence they had come. Rose followed their retreat with her eyes. The man was nowhere to be seen. He must have fallen from his dark horse, out of her site in the tall grasses. Crossing this side of the river on which she had watched from the edge of the trees, Rose saw that the man on the ground and thought he must be gravely injured. Rose rushed forward to find him, dressed in strange raiment, wounded and lying on the ground barely breathing. She rushed to his side and tried to help him. He was quickly aroused but pushed her away, keeping his face from her view, though she already had seen he wore a mask. The minute he laid eyes on her, he knew who she was and knew that she was not safe there.

"I don't need your help, my lady. These woods are not safe. Gypsies and pirates from Blackheathe and the Black Cliffs tarry around these waters. A lady of your status should not be here unaccompanied."

"But sir, you are injured, please return with me to my home and I shall arrange for your needs to be tended," Rose insisted. She'd realized that his horns were not on a helmet but where a part of his skull, yet it didn't frighten her in the least.

"No, thank you, my lady. It is only superficial and I heal quickly, by enchantment. My home is not far as the wolf runs. Please, return to your home where you shall be safe, you are in grave danger here." and he took her dainty hand in his large black leather clad one and kissed it, his tone turning from reassuring to insistent, "Go now." With these words he suddenly and rather nimbly swung up into the ornate saddle and rode off, his cloak billowing in the breeze behind him. He swiftly galloped to the end of the island, across the river, and disappeared through the dark trees. Realizing that the white wolf had also disappeared, Rose looked after him in a moment, then made her way back to her home by means of a location spell. A mournful lone wolf cry followed her as she left the river.

The sun was just about to set when RoseBelle arrived back at her family's estate Castlebarre Manor. Immediately she sensed something was strangely wrong. There were no servants to meet her at the gate, no one working in the fields, and no footman at the stable. She tied up her horse and with no thought for her own safety she rushed into the rear atrium. She was shocked beyond belief to find bloody footprints in the hall and blood smears across the walls, a few servants lying pale, dead from whatever struggle there had been. She followed the blood trails and footprints which led her to the family's private sitting room on the second level. Inside her parents and siblings bodies were strewn across the room; each had been brutally murdered, their bodies desecrated in the most horrendous fashion. There were signs that her mother and sisters had been raped, and her father and brothers brutally beaten before their entrails were strewn across the floor. She had no time for tears for she heard a noise back downstairs. Cautiously she crept out onto the landing to see what it might be. Through the great window she could see figures, dressed in the same crimson armour, the same crimson sash, as the knights she had seen attack the mysterious man in the mask. They had two servants on their knees and were holding them by the collars, demanding information from them. A few knights were making their way from the front of the main hall towards the staircase, fanning out around the mansion to make sure there was no one left alive. They had remnants of drying blood on their armour. These men must have somehow doubled back after attacking the man at the great river, or perhaps one or the other had been a scouting party. Rose rushed to her father's side, grabbing he and Henrie's swords from the floor where thy had fallen. She readied herself to fight to the death. Her father and brother's had trained her well in the art of swordplay, but she was unsure if she could match these devils who essayed against her family since they'd been overcome themselves. She went back to the landing and stood ready. The one who appeared to be the leader of the blood knights mounted the staircase, a low growl in his throat as his dark eyes fell upon her, piercing her heart with frozen fear from beneath the blood red cloak hood that doubled as a mask. He laughed at her holding the swords and with a wave of his hand the sword flew out of her hand and beyond her reach. Rose stood solidly, unable to move, unable to use her powers as the man approached. Her eyes were locked with his as he grabbed her arms and flung her to the ground, just as he had the sword.

Suddenly there was a sound like the ferocious roar or a bear or lion and a figure in black pounced on the man in the blood red cloak, sending him flailing to the ground floor. Somehow Rose recognized the mysterious man from the river underneath the blackness of his robes. Her eyes darted from the man in black, to the man in red, to the window. Black streaks swirled around the men outside as they fell to the ground. Their dying screams echoed in Rose's ears as she turned her gaze back to the two men on the ground. She cautiously crept down the staircase, eyes always on the men as they struggled. The man in black rose and with a swirl of his cape hurled himself into the midst of four of the blood knights who had entered the mansion from the rear of the estate. Rose's eyes fell upon the white face of their leader in the blood red cloak. His features were distorted in a freakish grin and his eyes wide with insane fear, blood covered his lower jowls, his neck, and the front of his cloak and armour. A hand touched hers and she shrunk from it, turning quickly to face her attacker. She found only a dark and beautiful woman in luxurious black fur standing there. She put a perfectly manicured finger to her lips, her long nails gleaming against her blood red lips, and bade Rose come with her. She nodded, sensing a familiarity in the woman's dark eyes. The two women, one blonde, one raven-haired, exited the front of the mansion, stepping over pale faced men in blood stained armour. Another woman, red-haired, dressed in the same luxurious fur as her sisters joined them once they were outside. Silently, stealthily they made their way around to the stables. Their brother staggered out of the rear entrance of the house,

"Bring her with us, she is no longer safe here anymore," he said in a strained yet gentle voice. The sisters nodded and were about to take her by the arms, when their brother stumbled and nearly collapsed. Rose broke free of the women's grasp and hastened to her rescuer's side and helped to support him. He allowed her help him this time, putting his arm around her shoulders; in a flash, they were suddenly transported to the entrance of a dark Gothic mass of intricately carved stone. It loomed over their heads, framed with an ethereal light cast by a clouded moon. It stood out against the black, yet starry sky like a shadow of a thorny giant, it's spires and buttresses jutting out like tendrils or horns. Before Rose knew it they were inside the castle, standing in the middle of a huge lavishly decorated baroque great room. The sisters had removed her wet cloak and wrapped her in fur, sitting her down in front of the hearth. A fire burned there, and it's light cast dancing shadows across the walls and draperies of the room. The silvery white wolf she had seen earlier curled up next to the chair that his master had collapsed in.

"My sisters will see you to your room."

"My room?"

"You shall stay here in safety for as long as you need."

"Thank you, my lord. You are most kind, but I should go to my kinsman. They will be worried for me. I have high connections in the royal house of Arturia, and they can..."

"They may have been responsible for the massacre at your home, Princess. Let me warn you, I have seen with these very eyes, atrocities committed by the closest of kin. There are rumors of treachery in King Anton's court," he knew Ludovic had to have gotten his information from somewhere in Arturia's royal halls. "You shall remain here, I will protect you, but only if you remain within the grounds of the castle... " he paused "...I am not kind, my lady, I do this only because of the help you offered me at the great river; I never leave a gentle offering unrequited, nor a wronged spirit dissolute. I only ask in return that you would offer your gifts and companionship to my sisters, I ask nothing but a small request for me. I have heard tales of your artistic gifts and I wish to know then for myself." The sisters returned to the room and the golden haired sister, Varitie offered Rose a chalice of warm mulled wine while the raven-haired sister, Illyria began to dress her brother's wounds.

"Ask whatever you will of me, my lord. I will gladly give it you," she paused and took a sip from the warm chalice, "I would like to thank you for saving my life, only you know more about me, than I do about you. Pray what is your name?" Rose asked as she sat on the floor, stroking the wolf's soft fur. The dark lord would have loved nothing more than to tell her who he really was, but his past had made him an outcast, a monster in the eyes of the Arturians, especially the royal family.

"I am a disgrace to my kin, a monster," he winced, something akin to a growl forming deep in his throat, "That hurt, witch!" he bellowed as Illyria backed away, teeth bared, hissing like a cat. "My own sister, out to maim me as well," he muttered to no one in particular. Rose had already noticed the gleaming silvery white fangs bore by the lord and his sisters. She had only heard stories of their kind, but never seen them in person.

"Perhaps you'd like to do it yourself, My Prince?!" Illyria spat back caustically, throwing the damp rag in his face.

"Insolent, foolish-"

"Allow me," Rose said quietly, setting her chalice aside and taking the damp cloth from him.

"You don't have to..." The look in Rose's eyes stopped him from speaking any further. The fact that she even met his eyes was enough to surprise him.

"I want to." She placed the cloth in the bowl and wrung it out, placing it lightly on his arm, without so much as flinching at his marred appearance. The heat of the pain vanished at her cooling touch, a soothing sensation beginning to move through his arm and shoulder, deep into his muscles. Her powers were far beyond what even the related tales could have told, and the dark lord was quite astonished. It relaxed him as she hummed a beautifully haunting tune, cleaning his wounds as the sensation rushed over his body. The tune was strangely familiar to him, yet he was so relaxed he couldn't focus to think where he'd heard it before. Rose studied the marks on his fore arm, bicep & shoulder. There were strange symbols, words, and pictures scarred and inked into his skin. Some were darker than others and many were quite frightful to behold, yet she never wavered in the flow of her powers of healing and soothing.

The dark lord and his sisters were creatures of the night, Night Walkers some called them, but some lands to the far north and east called them Vampyres. Either name would be enough to strike fear into anyone's heart. But Rose was not anyone. Even as a small child, everyone in the kingdom knew her as the princess who never met a stranger, a true "People's Princess." Through her eyelashes she gazed at the man's masked face. From beneath it's smooth covering she could see the same strange marks beneath his close cropped beard. His lip had a slight cleft that led to his nose almost like that of a lion. But his eyes were what caught her attention most. They were of a silvery blue that she'd never seen before and they studied her with cold calculating precision. Yet somehow they seemed to warm to her and the corners of his lips to turn up as she sang the last verse of her song. His arm was well cleaned and bandaged and Varitie took the bowl and cloth from her, carrying it back to the kitchen as Bianca, the ginger-haired sister, brought out some steaming meat pies for Rose. She laid a gold napkin across her lap and set the plate next to the chalice.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry...I feel a little ill, actually..." she said, setting the napkin aside and rising. She took a step and wobbled, gripping the arm of the sofa to steady herself as her knees began to give out. Adrian was there in a flash and had picked her up, carrying her up the stairs as Illyria led the way to a lovely room fit for any princess. Adrian laid her on the bed and showed her a bell.

"Ring this if you need anything. Rest now, you are safe here."

"Thank you," Rose said a little weakly, the room beginning to spin. Adrian squinted at her behind his mask as Illyria felt her forehead with the back of her hand.

"A slight fever. I'll make some tea for her. She'll rest quietly then," she whispered to her brother to reassure him. He nodded and turned to follow her, but Rose caught his sleeve,

"What am I to call you? The Black Prince who saved my life?" she asked with a slight smile. The corners of his mouth twitched, but he did not smile.

"Adrian will do just fine, Princess. Now rest. You are safe here," he said. Taking her hand and placing it beneath the fur blanket. Rose nodded weakly. She drank the tea that Illyria gave her then fell fast asleep. She woke in the night crying, memories of her attack and grief for her family surfacing in uncontrollable sobbing fits. Illyria and Varitie sat with her, letting her cry her grief out for as long as she needed.

Adrian tried to sleep, but the sobbing wouldn't allow him to. It wasn't that it was loud or irritating, but that it was beyond pitiful, like the crying of a kitten who lost it's mother. He tried to drown the sound out with the pillows, but it ate at him, like a cold finger down his spine, chilling him all the way through. He finally got up and locked himself in his workshop, but he could still hear her sobs. He left his workshop and went to the bedroom that housed the enchanted wardrobe. There he placed his hands on the handles, made a wish, then opened it. A small clockwork orchestra began to play music and it seemed to momentarily sooth him as he carried them back to his workshop and began to work. If she stayed, he would show her the wardrobe and allow her to use it, should she want to. For the time being the music covered most of RoseBelle's piteous sobs and he could work in peace.