EDIT: Thank you so much for your feedback! I've gone through and fixed a few things you reviewers pointed out that I didn't notice before. Thank you! I look forward to writing again!
From a Mother's Eyes
Cedric was not a nice guy. He didn't look out for others, he didn't respect authority, he didn't smile often, he didn't join big events for fun or dance and laugh with the other palace workers. Cedric was in fact the exact opposite of a nice guy—the man was a snake. Cedric was a plotter, a lurker, a betrayer.
Cedric was a villain.
So why, Queen Miranda asked herself, did their youngest daughter show such a liking to the bitter man? Why did Princess Sofia the First of Enchancia, an inquisitive girl with a bright future, relentlessly cling to Cedric the "Sensational," royal sorcerer of Enchancia? It seemed a rather huge flaw on an otherwise perfect young Princess.
When Sofia was new to the life of a royal, back when King Roland II had just asked Miranda to be his wife, Miranda had figured that her daughter had never seen magic up close before, and thus that was the reason for the then eight-year-old's fascination with the slim sorcerer. Cedric was less than delighted to be the object of young Sofia's attention, though he dealt with it as best a grumpy loner could.
The years seemed to drag on, and to Miranda's shock and dismay, Cedric never did seem to be able to shake Sofia off of him. Miranda did question the man a few times, when she'd see him staring greedily towards Sofia's chest. At first it repulsed the woman—what a perverse creature he was!—until she realized where Cedric's eyes were really pointed at.
Ah, the amulet of Avalor. The exquisite purple jewel hung right in the dip of Sofia's collarbone, and had since Roland had gifted it to her so long ago. Cedric seemed to glance at it more and more often towards Sofia's ninth and tenth years, and though he only stole fleeting looks, Miranda caught on.
It was always in the back of the graceful Queen's mind, but she was aware of two things that ultimately stopped her from informing her husband of the possible problem—one, Roland was harsh towards Cedric, and would no doubt have a noose around the slender sorcerer's neck upon hearing his intentions. Second, Miranda doubted that Cedric would ever grow competent enough to actually steal Sofia's amulet. It was sad to think, but the gangly man was rather pathetic, if you looked past his constant scowl and dark aura. He was a failure of a sorcerer, to put it as Roland had said many times before, and Miranda knew that.
However, the Queen kept an eye on Cedric. She saw even his subtlest attempts at getting the amulet, and watched each one slowly crash and burn. It was somewhat saddening, seeing the way he would kick the cement when he thought no one else was looking, and the exasperated look wrought upon his face when Sofia turned away. You could almost taste the frustration and longing wound deep within the man's soul, radiating from every pore, every open-mouthed gape and cavernous sigh.
It was true, that Cedric lacked any confidence. He was perhaps the broken result of having to live in his famous father's shadow, always second-rate, always belittled, always treated like a useless pest. Cedric might've been different, had he grown with a more accepting environment, surrounded by people who pushed him forward with kindness. But he did not, and this was the outcome. Cedric was a product of disappointment and always-heightening expectations.
Slowly, Miranda watched Sofia age more—eleven, twelve, thirteen. Cedric slowly halted in his staring at the amulet, and even his attempts at taking it became fewer. Sofia still came to see him in his dark, looming tower whenever the auburn-haired teen could.
"Look! Look at what Mr. Cedric taught me today!" the young Princess would often squeal at dinnertime, waving her little wand Cedric had gifted to her, showering the room with little stars or gentle snowfall or fresh rose petals.
The thought had occurred to Queen Miranda as she watched Sofia bounding off to that horrid tower so often, that Cedric could very easily take advantage of the young Princess. Sofia could be groomed to be a fine evil sidekick, if manipulated right. The girl, in her very malleable and impressionable state, could be taught to do Cedric's bidding.
But instead, Sofia did not change. Miranda saw not a hint of deceit in the daughter she'd birthed and raised. Those big blue eyes were just as wide and adventurous as always, so tender and caring. The Princess had slowly begun trying to bring her rose-colored glasses to Cedric's eyes more and more, dragging him to events where he was not needed, trying to coax him into dancing and having some punch and perhaps a bite or two of cake.
It had gotten to the point where Sofia was seemingly stuck to Cedric 24/7. At most balls and other celebratory events, Sofia spent her all of time with the cranky sorcerer instead of the other Princes and Princesses present. Even Roland began taking notice, and it took all Miranda had to convince her dear husband not to get upset.
Sofia continued to grow up more and more each year gone by—fourteen, fifteen, sixteen… she grew a small waist, lengthy golden-brown hair, and began wearing a broader range of more womanly clothes. Cedric had seemingly stopped all attempts at stealing her amulet by then, and Miranda found him smiling more towards Sofia. His dark purple sorcerer's robe seemed to slowly loosen after some months (along with his personality), revealing more of the mahogany vest and crisp dress shirt underneath. His chest broadened, filled in his clothes better.
With Sofia by his side, Cedric stopped stuttering in front of the King. He stood straighter, more alert, and ceased messing up when performing tricks in front of other kingdoms and vast crowds. He'd gained a little more respect as a royal sorcerer, though he couldn't seem to shake from his past mistakes, for Roland held doubts during every show, every flick of Cedric's wand.
Cedric's father, former royal sorcerer Goodwin the Great, considered his son's accomplishments to be mere baby steps. Cedric was now an okay sorcerer instead of a horrible sorcerer, and that was it. Of course, Sofia had a completely different point of view, but everyone figured she was more pitying towards Cedric than anything else.
When Sofia was seventeen, her older twin step-siblings freshly eighteen, things began to take large turns for the future. Princess Amber, after looking over Princes worldwide and having men fight for the blonde's hand in marriage, was finally pressured into choosing a suitor. It wasn't a huge surprise that she chose to wed Prince Hugo, and though the young royal couple was content in each other, Miranda saw the stiffness and uneasiness in Sofia upon the news.
It was only tradition to Roland, for a Princess to marry at eighteen years of age and become Queen of a new empire, creating strong ties with the neighboring kingdoms of Enchancia. Amber had been raised with this tradition, and was therefore not bothered by it, but Sofia had not been raised so, and that was evident.
James was excused from marriage, considering he had taken to training in combat and becoming a knight. The boy had always loved weapons, and that love only grew as he aged into a young man, yielding a sword on the battlefield with both grace and skill. James liked to train, and he loved to fight for his kingdom. He had a powerful and resounding laugh, and was always one to push forward.
Sofia had a knack for sorcery, as well as a natural talent to connect with nature and other people on a level that Miranda couldn't quite comprehend. The Princess stunned all who met her. She was, however, a tad bit stubborn, and perhaps naïve in her way of thinking. Often Roland would voice to his wife his concerns for Sofia, worrying she would never truly grow up and be capable of facing the real world. Would Sofia hate King Roland for his royal traditions? Would she ever understand? Miranda did her best to convince Roland that Sofia was a smart young woman, and knew more than she let on.
Sofia spent most of her days by then with Cedric. They could be seen picking ingredients together in the castle gardens, or heading up to Cedric's tower with fresh glass bottles for potions and some snacks from the kitchen. Sofia was not concerned with looking at possible suitors, didn't even look at the Princes interested in her hand in marriage. Cedric no longer pushed her away—in fact, sometimes he'd seek her out, excited to show her a new spell he'd mastered after a sleepless night of practicing, or a fresh enchantment that they could try together.
The topic of marriage had come up several times, mostly by Roland mentioning it, but Sofia would always bite her lip and try to change the subject. And as her eighteenth birthday began closing in, Roland had called upon their royal sorcerer to prepare the magical decorations for the upcoming birthday, and a likely wedding as well. Miranda noticed a rather big change in Cedric at this time.
The man had stopped eating, appearing sickly, and looked as though he had stopped sleeping as well. Huge bags formed under his eyes, his clothes wrinkled and raven hair disheveled. Miranda saw him standing out in the gardens very late one night when she'd woken up to get a glass of water, running a hand through his grayish white bangs, face distressed.
He was talking to himself—she could see his lips moving, but could not hear his words as she was far away, watching from a hall window. Cedric's pet raven, Wormwood, flew to the man's shoulders, giving a screech of what appeared to be disapproval (if ravens could feel disapproval, anyway).
Cedric angrily bat the bird away, and then resumed his livid moping. In an instant, he pulled his wand from his sleeve, turning on a dime, and Miranda watched as he flicked his wrist, lips moving fiercely. A nearby bush began to wilt upon his blast, and he showed no mercy to the plant, strengthening his blow. A few more blasts and most of the rose bushes in his vicinity were no more than burnt little twigs stuck in the dirt. The grass beneath his feet started to rot away in a perfect circle, slowly moving outward.
That was when it finally hit Miranda—Cedric had not been grooming Sofia, Sofia had been grooming him.
After so long of being encouraged and strengthened by Sofia, Cedric had become competent. The weak sorcerer had become strong, courageous, and steady in his ability. He was no longer the bumbling fool who only dreamt of taking over the kingdom, he was a real threat. He now had the capability to make those ghastly dreams a reality.
Miranda felt like a fool at that moment, wishing that she'd revealed the sorcerer's dark intentions all those years ago. She wished that she hadn't spared Cedric's life back then out of pity, for now she had endangered her own family's lives, and possibly the entire kingdom. Picking up the bottom of her silk nightgown, Miranda began her way down the dark marble halls of the castle. They seemed longer now, closing in on her as she sped up, leaving her glass of water far behind, shattered upon the polished floor.
The Queen reached her quarters, swinging the door open feverishly, gasping as she did so. "Roland!" she hurried to her husband's sleeping form on their bed, shaking him with her dainty hands. "Roland! Roland, wake up Roland!"
Roland sat up in an instant, grabbing at his wife's shoulders in attempts to calm her down. "Miranda," he pulled her close upon first glance at her wide, glassy eyes "Miranda, dear, what's wrong?"
"Cedric," she gagged, "he's been plotting, Roland. I saw him, I saw him in the gardens, killing the rose bushes!"
"Cedric? Wh—are you sure, my love?"
"Yes, Rolly… yes, I am sure…" she pushed her face into Roland's broad chest, a cry escaping her cracked lips. "I've known that he's been scheming against us, but I… I just—and Sofia—" she continued her words in broken sobs, and Roland sat silently, thinking to himself whilst rubbing his wife's back comfortingly. He was too shocked to speak, though he wanted to. Never would Roland have thought that Cedric, the dolt of a sorcerer, could bring out such fear in his wife (or anyone, for that matter).
The guards appeared soon, worried looks upon their faces. "My King," one of the guards bowed, "we were informed of a disturbance by one of the maids. Is everything alright?"
Roland was silent for another second, thoughts spinning in his head. He knew Cedric to be a fool, but never would he have suspected the man to be that much a fool. It was true, that the King had gained some amount of understanding towards the lankier male in recent years, but there was no way that he would ever put a bit of pity over his family and kingdom's safety.
"Order the royal sorcerer to the ballroom. I must speak to him immediately. And bring more guards." Roland said firmly, to which the armor-clad men nodded and marched off. Miranda had calmed down by then, and was looking up with red-rimmed eyes. Roland kissed his wife's forehead. "Don't worry, love. I will have this all sorted out very soon." He smiled, that familiar look of adoration in his eyes, melting Miranda's anxiety.
Ten minutes later and both Roland and Miranda were sitting in the large ballroom, which held enough space for a good amount of guards. Cedric soon was escorted into the room, being followed closely by several men. He looked a mix of quite a few emotions—resentment, worry, weariness.
"My King," Cedric bowed lamely, "what seems to be the problem, so late at night?"
"Tell me, Cedric, what the job of the royal sorcerer is." Roland held his hands clasped behind his back, a scrutinizing look directed towards the raven-haired man across the room.
Cedric looked away, his fists clenched, teeth grit. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he almost looked mournful. "To serve, your majesty."
"Correct. And yet, I have reason to believe that you have not been so faithful to your duties. I have good reason to believe that you have been plotting against the very kingdom you've sworn to protect."
"King Roland, I—"
"Cedric, I hope you understand that if what I am to believe is true, you face a very serious offense, and I will not go easy on your punishment even considering our families having such tied pasts." Roland's voice was booming now, his eyes harsh. He wore his crown proudly on his head, chest puffed, feet planted firmly on the ground. He was the embodiment of authority, even an idiot could see.
Cedric bit his lip, frustration and tiredness plain across his features. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes, as if collecting his thoughts. He eventually let out a small, defeated, "I understand."
"Your family has done so much for mine throughout the centuries, Cedric." Roland backed down some by then, a bit of fire smoldered by bereavement. "But you—you have done nothing aside betray me."
Cedric's lips curled back as the guards stepped closer. "I suppose you expected me to put up with your constant belittling me until I expired," He murmured, still refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room. "But even a fool gets tired of being used as a scapegoat after a while."
Roland sighed deeply, turning to leave. "I hope the dungeon will help you realize your mistakes." He signaled the guards, and in an instant they moved towards the narrowly built sorcerer. Miranda watched Cedric's face twist in a mix of anger and agony, shaking the guards from his being.
"You coward!" the raven-haired man lunged forward, guards pulling him back. "Is that what you do with all of your problems—send them away? You send anyone who speaks up to the gallows, do you? You send your only son to fight for a kingdom not yet his to keep, and you give your daughters to assorted kingdoms, to lie in bed with strangers just so you can keep yourself secure!"
"How dare you speak of things you have no authority over! You blame me for law—for tradition?" Roland whipped around, steps heavy upon the glossed floors as he approached where Cedric was being held firmly.
"Tradition—ha! My family serving as your royal sorcerers is tradition, too, and look how that turned out!" Cedric spat.
"That is not my doing." Roland growled. "My people are happy, as is my family."
"Your people are oblivious to impending threats on the kingdom, reliant on magical parlor tricks and faux sorcery to fix their problems! Your eldest daughter was wed off months ago, forced to hastily pick some pampered Prince by his kingdom over love! I will not let the same happen to Sofia!" Cedric struggled harder by then, a newfound strength in his limbs.
"You don't know what Sofia wants." Roland stated, cheeks flush with anger.
"I know that she doesn't want this. She'd rather die than marry some posh, snobby little Prince who doesn't deserve her. None of them deserve her!"
"Then who deserves her, Cedric? You?" Roland scoffed. Cedric's face showed deep hurt at the King's words. "I'm done here, we're getting nowhere. Take him away." Roland started towards the doors again, Miranda stationary, watching Cedric's expression of sorrow as it continued to deepen. Tears threatened to spill.
The guards began dragging Cedric back, but the man wouldn't give up. His expression changed to one of fury. He flung his wand from his sleeve, lips moving like mad, sending a spell powerful enough to knock all of the guards several feet away. They moved in again, this time a few with their swords drawn. Cedric sent another spell out, a green flash sending more guards colliding with the surrounding walls.
Roland moved to Miranda, hiding her behind his body as the scuffle continued. "Get his wand!" Roland ordered, to which a guard jumped forward, swinging his sword towards Cedric's outstretched hand and effectively cutting the sorcerer's wand in half.
The guards moved in once again, but Cedric's expression had darkened considerably by now, determination wrought upon his twisted features. He took the flesh of his left hand within his mouth, biting fiercely. Blood began to flow from the fresh wound, and he used his own essence to draw forth energy, sending exceedingly powerful blasts to the guards one by one.
"B-black magic!" Miranda croaked, her hands flying to her gaping mouth. Roland took her hands within his own, pulling her towards the doors leading into the castle halls.
Miranda saw more blood streaming down Cedric's arm, glowing strangely. The guards were calling enforcements, but Cedric was relentless. Miranda didn't recognize the sorcerer anymore. His eyes were gleaming wildly, face twisted in a rage she'd previously thought only beasts to harbor.
Guards began piling on top of him, attempting to weigh him down. For a few seconds, Miranda held her breath, hoping it was over. She was forced to duck suddenly when guards began flying outward by a force so strong their bodies were cracking the decorative white columns. Cedric stood heaving, mouth agape, flames spewing from his lips like a great dragon.
"Cedric, stop this madness!" Roland bellowed, using one hand to shield his eyes from the intense light and the other hand to keep hold of Miranda. Cedric didn't seem to hear the King, too busy throwing guards off of his figure and setting the surrounding tables and chairs up in flames.
Miranda had burst into tears by then, watching the sorcerer lose all control, every bit of rage and grief that had built up over the years being released at once in the form of flames spewing from his being. His clothes were beginning to tatter, eyes wide and changing color, pupils mere slits.
"Cedric!" Roland pulled his wife out the doors leading to the castle halls, but she refused to leave. The King set out towards the sorcerer, a guard handing him a shield. Miranda made an attempt to follow in her husband's suit, but the guards apologetically held her back. "Cedric," Roland roared, "I will not let you take over this kingdom!"
For a moment the sorcerer froze, turning to face the king. Cedric's beastly yellow eyes reverted back to their amber-brown state for a second, pupils growing circular again. The fire came to a spitting stop as he closed his lips.
"I don't want your kingdom." Cedric growled, teeth clenched. A few flecks of flame came from his mouth as he spoke, but it was obvious he was trying hard to hold it back. His shoulders slumped, face fell. "Not anymore." He sighed.
Roland seemed out of breath, cautiously observing the scorched sorcerer. The racket had caused some of the castle workers to flee, others hanging around to watch the scene unfold. Word would surely get out, to the dismay of the kingdom. Baileywick, the castle's loyal and aged steward, had come running to the ballroom upon word of the happening. His face twisted in horror upon seeing the state of the area.
"Then what do you want?"Roland asked, taking a slow step towards the long-limbed male. For a moment Cedric looked indecisive, like he wanted to say something, but knew he shouldn't. Roland went on when the other failed to speak, "The Amulet of Avalor? Is that what you're aft—"
"No!" Cedric shouted, eyebrows furrowed, teeth bared. "No, no, no—you wouldn't understand!"
There was silence then, Cedric obviously having a conflict within his own racing mind, Roland trying to piece together Cedric's words. Miranda was thinking to herself—thinking back to all of the times she'd observed Cedric before.
He didn't want the kingdom? He didn't want the amulet?
But what else could a villain want?
The Queen racked her mind, back to when she'd first met the strange sorcerer so many years ago. She thought of his pathetic form and angry aura. He was a tortured soul, certainly. He was after power and proof that he was not such a failure. So, why would he no longer want the things he once had for so many years?
Sure, Miranda had noticed a slight change in him over the years. After Sofia had begun growing older and dedicated a substantial amount of time to proving how great the sorcerer was, Cedric had begun to transform. In fact, he'd started to like Sofia's visits. One might go so far as to say he looked forward to them.
And the way he looked at her…
For a second time that night, Miranda felt a fool. How could she have missed such a thing? The way Cedric looked at Sofia—like he adored her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. Cedric looked at Sofia the way Roland looked at Miranda.
"You…" Miranda broke the silence with wide eyes, her arms limp by her sides. Everyone turned to look at the Queen as she went on, "Cedric, you… you want Sofia, don't you?"
"Sofia—?" Roland choked confusedly, cutting himself off as his brain racked itself to make sense of his wife's words. Cedric looked from the Queen to the floor in shame, silence consuming the entire room, the only sound coming from the subtle dripping of the sorcerer's blood from his fingertips to the waxed floor.
"Cedric," Miranda was both firm and tender in her tone, slowly stepping towards the singed man in the center of the room. The guards allowed her move, though they kept their swords at ready. Cedric took only a single, unsure step back, foot moving over the cracked marble floor.
Miranda felt as if she was attempting to communicate with a feral animal, the way his eyes fluttered around unsurely, searching for a possible escape route. "Cedric," she murmured, not breaking eye contact despite Roland releasing a discomforted grunt. "Are you in love with my daughter?"
The broken sorcerer's eyes softened, glassy orbs unable to hold back the emotion. How long, Miranda wondered, had he kept the painful secret to himself? How many nights did he stay awake at night thinking of her? How many times had he wanted nothing more than to scream his love to the world, but forced himself to remain silent in shame? Or was this nothing more than another scam?
Can villains feel love? Miranda wondered.
The answer lay in Cedric's eyes.
Roland was stuttering, pulling Miranda away in one swift movement. "No," the King was having trouble putting his words together. "No, no—what? Cedric and Sofia—love? This—this is preposterous!"
Miranda remained focused on the sorcerer's eyes in an effort to further understand him, to identify with what all brought about his passion for the youngest royal of Enchancia. Roland was not so sound as his wife, breathing erratically, looking to the Queen for an answer, an explanation. There must be an explanation!
"Cedric, you can't…" Roland finally managed to compose himself, "Surely you can't expect me to believe this, can you?"
"My apologies, your majesty." Cedric bowed his head, turning away. "I tried… I—"
"I can believe you'd be fool enough to try taking over the kingdom—but to actually fall for not only a girl almost half your own age, but a Princess? Cedric, come on now. Should I count all of the things wrong with this?" Roland tried to remain calm, but the anger was clear in his gaze.
"Dad, it was my fault!" Sofia made her way through the guards, blue eyes wide with concern. Her hand was over her chest, fingers loosely caged around her amulet. Before Roland could speak against her, the young girl held her hand up to shush him. The guards attempted to stop her from reaching the royal sorcerer, but she pulled her wand from her sleeve and had them pushed aside in an instant.
Sofia took Cedric's hand within her own, intertwining their fingers. He looked down at her, a smile spreading over his lips. The blood of his other hand continued dripping, and surely it must have hurt, but he didn't seem to feel it. The sorcerer brought his head closer to Sofia's, planting a delicate kiss to her forehead, whispering an apology. Sofia turned to her parents, who were watching carefully.
"Father, Mother, Cedric tried to push me away. He's tried for a long time, actually… but I was always so stubborn, you know. He wanted what was best for me, but I pushed him into giving in, and… this is my fault. I'm so sorry." Tears streamed down her cheeks in silence, and Cedric moved to wipe them away with his spare, injured hand. He succeeded, but managed to smear blood on the Princess's face in the process.
Roland's eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the show before him.
"Sofia, surely you know that this," Roland gestured to the two as a whole, "would not be healthy, or accepted?"
"I don't care. I love him, Father."
"Sofia," Roland remained firm, looking to the young girl with shielded eyes. "Do you understand that Amber is Queen of another kingdom, and James is preparing for battle? If something were to happen to your brother, you would be next in line for the throne. Would you really want him to be the one ruling beside you?" the King motioned to Cedric.
"Father, Cedric has made mistakes, but he works hard to make up for them every day. You chose my mother to rule beside you, despite tradition and others disapproving."
"But your mother does not have a history of trying to take over the kingdom, nor does she practice black magic, my dear." Roland held Miranda tight to him. The guards stood in anticipation, waiting for an order. Sofia remained strong, but Cedric looked disheartened.
"I understand your concerns, Father. But look—look at what your "weak" sorcerer has done." Sofia gestured to the ballroom, broken and singed. "Everyone thinks Cedric is feeble, incapable, incompetent. But look at the power he has, Father, Mother. If used right… imagine what good he can do!"
"What good could possibly come from destruction?" Roland shook his head. Miranda remained quiet, still studying the couple before her.
"Cedric may destroy," Sofia smiled graciously, raising her wand, "but I can heal." With the flick of the wand, the cracked floor beneath them began to mend.
The rest of the night was a blur—Miranda watched the three bicker a bit more, until Roland finally called off the guards, and the newly open couple began reconstruction of the ballroom. Cedric added a spell to make the ceiling display shining stars during the night, and though it was beautiful, tension remained thick in the air.
Cedric was reluctantly allowed to remain the royal sorcerer, though guards were added all around his tower, and black magic was strictly forbidden unless emergencies arose. Sofia remained her usual, bubbly self, and her eighteenth passed with only a birthday to celebrate.
Miranda watched the couple closer from then on, the few times they'd be able to sneak out into the gardens together, picnicking and giggling like newlywed sweethearts. She watched Cedric's eyes carefully, but they never once left Sofia's. The amulet had paled in comparison to the young woman blossoming before them.
Suppose a villain fell in love with a hero, and vice versa. What would become of it?
The Queen supposed she had a front row seat to witness just that.