Phoenix's Legacy
By Mistress Dawnstar
Summary: A kingdom where magic is outlawed, a young sorceress struggling to step up to her mother's shoes, a young girl forced to walk the thin line between life and death, expediency and love. Cinderella with a whole new twist. Please R and R.
Ch. 2 – The Innocence of Childhood
My childhood was one that, I think, any girl would envy.
I was in every way my mother's child. I had inherited her flame colored hair and even skin tone. I was the split image of my mother when she was a child, except for my eyes – I inherited my father's storm gray eyes.
Emotionally, I received in full measure her spirit, her thirst for adventure, and her love of the outdoors. (And soon my skin reached the same tan tone as hers.) Unfortunately, I did not have her patience or gentleness to level the mixture. It was not easy for me to restrain my impetuous nature.
My mother was of one of the oldest and wealthiest families, so naturally I lacked for nothing. Nothing was denied me. I grew up thinking that had I wanted the stars, all I had to do was to snap my fingers and a servant would fetch them for me. Oh, I was a spoiled little brat.
I can see you shaking your head at me now, sitting here in all my royal dignity, but learning staidness and patience was the hardest lesson of my life.
My family spent most of the year at our estate in the County of Siriana. How I loved to go riding among the ancient trees and rolling hills of my homeland. I received my first little pony when I was four and by the time I was seven, I knew all the lands within a two-mile radius of our manor as well as any of my father's seasoned hunters.
My father, rather prudishly I thought, always forced me to ride with a guard or a manservant. It became a sort of game to see how quickly I could shake off my companion. Sometimes it was my mother who went with me. I never tried to escape from her; I doubt that I could have even if I'd wanted to. She was an even better rider than I was.
But I never did want to. She knew where all the most fascinating places on our estate were, where the secret glades in the forest were, where the animals came together to drink from the stream, where the doe and fawn nestle in the underbrush...
For the earliest years of my childhood, I was suffered to run wild on my parent's estate, with no one to restrain my behavior and if any tried, they'd be treated to one of my infamous tantrums. My mother and, to a lesser extent, my nurse Khedsa were the only two who commanded my obedience.
The first major event in my young life came shortly after my seventh birthday. My mother was taking her annual trip to Lyndale, the capital of our fair realm, to visit her childhood friend Queen Milna Cenira Ffondrel, my father had business at the capital and for the first time, I was to be a part of the entourage.
I had only been to the capital once before in my brief existence, when I was presented to the royal court shortly after my birth, so naturally, I didn't remember anything. I was so enthusiastic about the prospect that I even suffered Khedsa to dress me in a little girl frock on the morning of our arrival. (I normally would have protested strenuously. How is one expected to move around without tripping over all those frills?)
The sight of the massive iron gate that guarded the city (crowned by the royal serpent of the Ffondrel family and decorated by twining iron vines) fill me with awe. I was no less impressed by the rest of the winding trip up to the royal palace. There was so many things to see, to hear, and to smell. It quite overwhelmed the poor, ignorant, young country lass that I was. (I'm sure you're aware that the royal palace is situated at the center of the city. The main road winds around the palace in ever decreasing circles until it reaches the palace – apparently the king who built the city was over-fond of long, winding processions. Several lesser streets radiate out of the center like the hubs on a wheel, giving the strong impression of a spider web.)
We were cordially welcomed by a troop of servants at the palace. Briskly and efficiently they took charge of our horses and possessions. Two young women detached themselves to escort my family to the hall where court was being held.
The five of us navigated through the myriad halls of the royal palace. My eyes and curiosity was caught by the beautiful mosaic walls.. I paused to examine the pictures more closely. Pieces of colored glass were cunning fitted together to form mesmerizing pictures of the great battles of the past. There in front of me was the courageous visage of an armored knight, atop a rearing black stallion. To my right was a majestic king, striking down a foul and withered hag. To my left... Where did my parents go?
They were nowhere in sight. I was so dazzled by the mosaics on the wall that I couldn't even recall which direction we were going.
Well, I wasn't the type to break down and cry. I was determined to locate my missing parents (and tell them just what I thought of irresponsible adults who forgot their own child). It shouldn't be too hard; there were only about 2000 rooms in the palace.
I took a right at the end of the passage, and then another. I marched briskly down the hallway to the opening at the end and came upon the most beautiful rose garden that I've ever seen.
Oh, how to describe the heavenly scent of summer roses to one who has never sampled their delights. I spotted perfect red blossom and reached out an avaricious hand.
"You can't do that."
I whirled around and came face to face with a young lad, perhaps a year or two my elder. Locks of wavy brown hair framed a plump, boyish face endowed with a pair of soft brown eyes. "Why can't I?" I demanded indignantly. Little children, I especially, hate to be forbidden to do something.
"Because roses have thorns. Everyone knows that." I wanted to smack that oh-so-superior smile off his face.
Well, I simply couldn't let that challenge pass by. I leaned forward and tugged at the rose stem. I yelped as wicked thorn penetrated my tender flesh.
"Told you so." I scowled furiously at him, my pride more grievious hurt than my hands.
"Of course, I wouldn't expect a girl to know anything." The boy continued.
"Why not?" I demanded.
"Girls don't have brains. My father says that girls are only good for bearing children and looking pretty."
That did it. Hell hath no fury like woman (or girl) scorned. Who cared that I was wearing an expensive and grotesquely elaborate contraption. Forget being on my best behavior. Nevermind the identity of the obviously noble boy. I didn't even care that he was older and quite possibly stronger than I was. I flung myself, fists flailing, on him with a wail of fury.
At first he seemed to be reluctant to return my blows – some lingering vestige of chivalry perhaps - but after a nasty jab gave him a black eye, he seemed to decide that noble behavior only went so far. By virtue of superior weight and strength, he managed to pin my body under his, though I struggled gamely on.
Suddenly, a pair of hands entered my vision and pulled the boy off. Other hands helped me up from the ground and dusted me off.
"Lady Marianne! What do you think you are doing? Is this lady-like behavior?" It was Khedsa.
A little ways off, I saw with vindictive satisfaction that my tormentor was nursing a black eye and receiving his share of the scolding. "...were you think! Scrabbling around on the ground like a commoner. Absolutely disgraceful behavior. What would your father say if he saw you like this, your highness?"
Your highness? He was a prince? I felt my jaw drop. My face heated up.
Just then my mother, with her uncanny sense of dramatic entrances, swept in accompanied by a strange lady. She took one look at our disheveled appearances, and raised an eloquent eyebrow. "Why, Milna." She said in a light, amused drawl. "It appears that the children have already met. Marianne, this is Prince Sylbene Edward Ffondrel. Your highness, my daughter the Lady Marianne Eleanor Siriana."
By this time, we had attract quite an audience; I gritted my teeth at the chuckles of amusement floating around the garden as I stood there in a torn dress with my hair in frightful disarray and scratches running down my arm from sharp pebbles in the ground. I did the only thing that I could under the circumstances:
I straightened, summoning all composure at my disposal, and curtseyed to the Prince. "What a pleasure it is to meet you, your highness." I said in a saccharine and obviously faked tone. "I do apologize for the misunderstanding. I must remember to make a formal apology sometime later. Oh, wait, I can't – because girls don't have brains."
With that elegant parting shot, I stalked out of the garden, trailing the tatters of my torn dignity.
A/N: Thanks to those who review. I know that the pace is really slow, but I've got most of the background out now so it should pick up. Please review. Tell me what you think of Marianne.
Revised. Please comment.
