Several Notes:

Chapter One

Dabbing the tears from her face, Carmelia threw the handkerchief to one side, unclipping her white silk dress, letting it fall to the cold ground as summer faded away with a cool breeze interrupting the evening.

Taking the shell comb from her hair, her long dark curls fell to her waist and Carmelia felt the tears spill once more, running her hands through her hair, massaging her scalp as the pain would not cease.

"Oh Athena! How can I get through this? Please some wisdom, guide me" she raised her voice to the ceiling of her bedchamber and sobbed once more. Looking into her looking glass, Carmelia saw her face was red with tears and grief.

Nothing answered, without him Carmelia feared the gods would not guide her again.

"Anyone! Muses! Gods and goddesses! Ares! Aphrodite! Zeus! All Atlantian heroes! The likes of Petre! Costica! Does anyone listen?" Carmelia cried, falling to her bed, shuddering with grief and froze at the reply.

I will listen...

"What..." she whispered in stunned disbelief; this voice was not one of the deities that spoke to her within her head-this voice of utter beauty resonated throughout the chamber, it surrounded her.

I am here for you...

"Who are you?" Carmelia sniffed, wiping the tears from her face and standing, looking at the walls, the door, the floor, the ceiling. "Who is this who speaks to me with such splendour? Your voice is a thing of beauty; pray do speak once more!"

I am a muse, a benevolent spirit; I am sent to guide you...

"A spirit! Muse? Of music perhaps? Your voice is one of pure gold!" Carmelia's eyes darted about the room in ecstasy, eager to hear his reply, to hear the soft beautifully delicate tones of the male voice that called to her.

Yes, I am a spirit of music and wisdom, sent by Apollo and Athena to guide you, please darling; speak to me, tell me of your woes-does it concern the death of the King Razvan?

"Oh yes!" Carmelia felt the tears drip once again across her smooth face at the mention, the reminder of her father "Yes spirit, he died in battle against the Gaul's, I was so close to him, he was...an amazing father" she stuttered, sitting back upon her bed, relaxing upon the sheets comfortably as she remembered her father, forever there for her after her mother died when she was only four.

He was an amazing king, he will be sorely missed. But you are a princess, you must not reel within your own sorrow, you must be a light, an exemplar for your people; you are stronger than them and must be strong for them.

"Yes spirit, I know this, but it has only been a week and I cannot seem to cease crying, I now have no one in this empty palace" Carmelia wiped her face and nodded, understanding the wisdom behind his words.

What of your brother and now King Razvan? Surely you are both experiencing the same grief, surely he comforts you?

"No! My brother and I have never been close! Papa always said that it was the trauma of watching mother die that made Razvan a little odd and distant. Razvan has not talked to me for at least three days now, he has not even cried over father's death. It's as if...as if he has no emotions..." Carmelia shuddered, always having feared her brother "He never seems affected by anything"

It is truly a sad thing that from a family that was so close comes a brother who seems so detached. One would hope that he would at least inherit your father's wisdom and talent at the throne.

"One would hope" Carmelia muttered, wiping the sticky tearstains from her face. Suddenly she became extremely aware of her naked state, having undressed for bed. Gasping the sheets of her bed close to her, Carmelia's eyes darted about the room fearfully.

"Spirit, can you see me?" she asked meekly and the voice chuckled.

No my child, I can hear you and feel your presence, you cannot see me and hence I cannot see you...

"Is this the truth?" she asked, still uncertain.

I will never lie to you my darling, I am sent to guide you, not to become a bad influence upon your sweet nature; I will not guide you to deceit...

"I believe you spirit, something tells me to trust your voice, I cannot see you and this shows me that you do not wish to deceive me; appearances detract and deceive...

You are a sweet girl with noble principles, you would be a good ruler...tell me, are you interested at all in music?

"Music? I like to sing but that is all" Carmelia smiled, staring at the ceiling as she yawned, wondering what this spirit would lead to.

I am a magnificent teacher; let me train you to sing as if you were a muse yourself

"I suppose" Carmelia smiled, opening her mouth to sing.

Razvan yawned, turning to his wife Margareta who was lying upon their bed, eating several grapes.

"I think I shall take a quick walk about the palace, I feel the need to settle my thoughts" he spoke, more to himself than to Margareta who shrugged.

"Anything my lord, I shall be waiting for your return" she smiled and Razvan wandered from the room, unsure of what he was planning.

Walking through the corridors, Razvan finally reached the terrace overlooking the beach the palace backed onto, the next Island of Atlantis looming upon the horizon. Leaning upon the railing, Razvan shuddered with delight at the thought of her. Disgusted with himself, he shook the thoughts from his temperament; he had a wife now, he had been married for two years now, he was King, those childish fantasies had to be given up.

But once more a tingle as fresh as icy water and sickening as a sweet plunged down his spine, sending waves of longing through him.

But he could not.

Razvan smiled, remembering his wedding night with Margareta, two years ago, how she had thought the he was, naturally, thinking about her as he shouted yes, over and over again. She could never have guessed who he had thought about every night since then, every love making occupied by her.

And of course Margareta would think he desired herself; she was his wife, two years younger than his twenty-one, and utterly beautiful with long red hair, bright green eyes and a bright pale complexion; Margareta was exotically gorgeous amongst the their dark haired, tanned people.

But it was not what he wanted.

Though he could not achieve the goal he longed for, surely he could still dream?

And leaving the terrace, through the courtyard into the Atrium, Razvan began to walk through the corridors and hallways to her.

He knew Margareta would be getting impatient, but he didn't care; she was satisfactory as a wife and a sweet girl but Razvan could never care for her.

Finally he reached the few steps outside her room, and slowly, he opened the door a crack, to see her lying upon her bed, tangled in the sheets, naked and asleep.

Holding back a sigh of lust, Razvan clutched to the doorway, his short fingernails grinding into the wooden doorframe; beautiful with her long dark hair and pale body, dark eyes and shapely figure, accompanied by a truly elegant disposition, delightfully still youthful but with the maturity of a true princess, his seventeen year old sister Carmelia was the only woman Razvan could ever think of.

Eyes rolling in yearning he watched as she rolled over, the sheets barely concealing her state of undress, her smooth skin of a newly developed woman. Razvan clutched at himself and turned away, hearing her mutter 'spirit...' in her sleep.

Closing the door quietly, Razvan could hardly walk for the desire clinging to him, and he stormed through the palace, finding the quickest way back to his chambers.

Opening the doors to his bedchambers, Razvan could not lock the door and rip his robe off quick enough. Startled by this sudden passion, the half naked Margareta sat up in surprise as Razvan came to the bed, his ecstasy evident as he forced her down, moaning in desire as he took her once again, thinking of only one word.