Soft trickling could be heard from the blonde maiden's knelt position. A grand willow tree with brilliant orange, red and golden blossoms, stood reaching its branches as far as possible, entangling with other flowering willows, creating a cove-like sanctuary, far removed from the palace, although the beautifully menacing alcazar could be easily viewed. Well manicured shrubberies with the occasional flower patch strategically placed, somehow made Peach feel at ease. It was easy to tell that magic had grown this small oasis. Fingertips gently grazed the surface of the secluded pond, creating a ripple outward. The ripples bounced off the edges and returned to the gentle fingertips.
Hearing footfalls approaching her, Peach rolled her emerald eyes in annoyance. "I'm still angry with you. Why didn't you tell me! Only royals have ever received the blessing of ice! How could you –" Turning her head quickly in a flash of irritation towards the figure. Widened verdant pools widened as her complexion paled further. Her eyes did not land on her attendant. But, a matronly smile, skin as fair as porcelain, waist length raven hair that seemed to hold a blueish-green shine in the sunlight, an intense azure stare on her. Scrambling to her feet to give a proper courtesy. "My Queen!"
A hand raised before a slight head bow, Peach clumsily plopped back onto the ground. "That is not necessary, child." With elegant yet purposeful steps Amaryilla knelt next to the pond next to Peach, her golden patterned, ivory dress gracefully landed around her. "This was my son's first gift to me. I longed for my home country. He was but ten when this garden of perfection was raised from the ground. My dear, you are correct. Ice is the natural element of royalty. But Earth has always been his calling. Ice from myself, Earth from his father, the late King of Ealdormere." The Queen's piercing sapphire gaze landed onto Peach as her words escaped her lips almost melodically. "Nico is my son, but no heir to this throne. Merely a war trophy to be banished, embarrassed and stripped of his birth name. Named after the Goddess of victory, Nicolass, that is his true name. His life is my penance. If I act carelessly, he will be murdered. I begged for his life, I told your King that I'd marry and produce an heir, an heir for an heir."
Peach stared at the ravened queen with eyes widened of disbelief, before snapping to when a velvety laugh was heard. She stammered out timidly, "They taught us in school that Ealdormere was committing crimes against its people. That the royal family had committed suicide after slaughtering all the citizens. Wait… Ten? The war was over eighteen years ago? He was only a boy… I was born the summer following the war." Peach could feel a lump in her throat when she remembered her harsh words towards Nico. 'Why didn't you tell me?! You're a royal?! How dare you! This is nothing but a sham! A con! Grooming women to suit your brother or yourself?!'
A sorrow filled expression made it to the composed features of Amaryilla. "Of course they'd make us out to be heathens. Otherwise, convincing a population of reasonable and intelligent people to slaughter a neighboring country would be impossible. Magic wasn't something reserved for the elite there. We taught all who showed the interest. We were a country of scholars. What chance did we stand against a country who outnumbered us by sevenfold? Our best magus stood on the forefront of the battle, a powerful fire user, while the nobles and royals escorted the people into our pass to the ocean before returning to aid our mages. We laid down our lives for our people. Nobles, Mages, Scholars and Royalty alike. It was perhaps two hundred of us against thousands. My husband, my true husband, the one I chose of love, his last words were; "I take my last breath; so my people may continue drawing theirs."
A smug smirk graced her plush, petal pink lips of the Queen, "They never did find Ealdormere's people. But my boy, my innocent boy… He was intended to leave with the people. He claimed close to five hundred before finally being subdued. He collapsed the tunnel behind our subjects as the forces closed in on him, crushing any who dared to follow our people. He is no coward, nor is he an orphan. He is not a gentle breeze that casts through the fields, but a towering mountain who sacrificed his life for his people. A true king at heart."
Peach listened closely, legs crossed, her skirt laid over her legs, engrossed in the tale that was never told. The one everyone needed to hear. "But why? Your country wasn't hurting anyone. That wasn't fair!"
Amaryilla smiled at the passion of the fiery young woman. "Magic is why we were targeted. Magic did not come naturally to the residents of this state. They had to study hard, harder than our people. Perhaps envy, or a quick stab into the side before we could become stronger? It matters not. May I braid your hair?"
He blonde nodded hastily and perched herself in front of the queen. "Why me, your highness?"
She smiled and hummed a tune. "You are fire born. Very rare. Rarer than any other born gift of magic. I saw you, one night on the hallowed festival. The burning man, you danced with your kin. But you did not dance alone. From an untrained eye, it would appear that you were dancing dangerously close with the fire. But, I saw, the fire danced with you as well, as if it had always been this way, a cordial intertwinement of motions. I knew then. When you came of age. You would be instrumental to me. No matter who the prince chooses, you will remain at my side as my personal magus, if you accept, of course." Her fingers delicately weaved flowers into Peach's golden locks as she braided them, a contented smile on her gentle face.
"It would be my honor to serve you, my Queen."
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