Chapter One

A Rather Uneventful Christening Involving Fairies

The christening was no different than that of hundreds of other royal babies born across time and space. It was probably the least interesting of them all, in fact. No evil fairies had been slighted upon sending out the gold-etched invitation with a flowery design across the front. There were no imminent threats looming; no thieves waited in the shadows for a chance to make off with the doted-upon babe. The sky was clear, with perhaps a wispy cloud or two low on the horizon.

The sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass windows in the royal chapel. A stripe of blue fell across the cherubic cheek of Princess Kiias, and the sleeping child wriggled uncomfortably. The hand of her mother brushed the few wisps of blonde hair from her child's face and tucked the cloth closer around her daughter's body. The little princess settled slightly, but she seemed prepared to put up a fuss, just the same.

The droning voice of the priest continued on until the rays of light had shifted somewhat. The King was showing himself to be a bit drowsy, and the Queen was dozing lightly. He nudged her when the priest came to the end of his dry oratory.

When it had finally come to a close, the guests solemnly filed out from the chapel and traveled down the cold corridor to the gigantic throne room, where one hundred-foot tables were set up and filled with food. This, as shallow as it may sound, was why they had come.

The banquet was when the fat men and women could gorge, the old men could sleep in comfortable chairs, the young, fit men could regale the ladies with tales of their prowess in whatever they were involved in, the old women could harrumph about the sorry state of youth these days, and the young women could flutter and give everyone nice views of their ornate dresses and immodest necklines.

It also gave these fluttering young butterflies the chance to end their bachelorhood and contribute something good to the court of Roviserro. Something in the form of the next generation. That, of course, was furthest from the minds of these children so intent on enjoying the good years they had until, for the women at least, they'd outlive their shelf life by the age of twenty-five.

Kiias would join them far too quickly, was all her mother could think of. The years would go by quickly, as they had for Kiias' older sister Jani. Jani was married with her second child on the way at the young age of eighteen. She'd been lucky in landing a husband so quickly. Even if the young man was somewhat of a stick; however, that was fairly normal in this day and age, when the parents were so intent on not being embarrassed by a child's lack of grace and refinement. Such worries would be the death of personality and a little thing called charisma.

Which King Copan had in spades, Queen Selsa thought smugly, giving her husband a quick wink as they went for their respective chairs. The King gave her a return grin before sweeping his arms wide and inviting the guests to take their chairs. Heads of their own table, the Woods fairies pushed back their large, billowing skirts and took their seats before the rest of their table. It was their prerogative; they didn't have many anymore.

The first Woods-lady was Cartha, the younger sister of the queen, and a mere sixty-three years of age. To the Woodsfolk, she was but a child, really. Her hair spilled down in back in a riot of silver curls that many said were very becoming and unique. Selsa just saw it as odd, and wondered whether she'd been born with it or whether it was the result of some magic gone awry. Or maybe magic gone right. The Woodsfolk were an odd people, and not above using their powers to make their appearances more pleasing to themselves and others.

She was clothed in a light gray dress that perfectly matched those oddly colored curls. Intelligent, bright green eyes swept those assembled from above slashing cheekbones and below thin, arched silver brows.

Beside her was Marie, an older Woods-lady, and just as haughty and not personable at all. Selsa had never taken to the fairies; she'd never felt any warmth from their kind. Marie's hair was braided in a crown around her head, sprigs of some strange golden-leafed plant woven at her temples. The color was a deep, burnished bronze. Her shoulders were narrow, giving the impression of a pole, as her height sent her towering above most of those around her. Her dress was a deep blue that mad her stand out far more than her younger counterparts. Ice-blue eyes glared out across the room, spearing the Queen momentarily. Selsa's breath caught and released.

The third, last, and youngest, at fifty-one, was Zahja, with warm red hair in a simple plait down her back, resting on a simple dress the color of the sky. Her gray eyes were almost warm when compared to the other two Woodsfolk, but the disgust in her stance there nonetheless cooled Selsa distinctly. It was clear that their type looked far down on humans, whether enemies or allies.

The King took the first bite, and everyone soon followed suit, chowing down with an eagerness that belied their cultured upbringing and the facades they cultivated with that as the base. Copan watched this with amusement born of a natural disdain for the foppish underlings he had in his court. After that first bite, he set his fork down, the graceful handle resting gently on the china, before he turned to his wife. Her gaze was on her daughter, who dozed lightly in a rather ornate cradle that rocked just beside the Queen's chair.

It was natural, he supposed, this uneasiness his wife had whenever she couldn't see or touch their new daughter. Jani had been grown up long before she was legally emancipated from her parents in the binding contract of marriage. She had simply traded masters, Selsa thought sourly. But Jani had had that horrible, royal attitude, which the Queen supposed was her own fault, at a very young age. She'd been horribly indulgent when it came to her firstborn.

She did not intend to make the same mistake with Kiias. She brushed a finger down the baby's cheek and smiled quietly, turning back to her plate and eating slightly more than her husband.

After a hull two hours had passed, Copan deemed the feast over, and he stood slowly, waiting calmly until those assembled noted his position and quieted.

"Now that we have finished this banquet, I would have you all place yourselves among the golden leaves embossed on the marble in the center of this great hall to present your gifts. We thank you all for your kindness and appreciate you coming to this auspicious occasion," he said with grave formality, gesturing with one sweeping arm. The chairs squeaked a little as they moved across the floor, and the guests rose a little resentfully. Many had been deep in conversation, and the older members of the court enjoyed picking over the remaining food.

The line was a little scraggly, but the majestic presence of the first Woods-lady at the head of it took much attention from the lesser, maybe even the dregs, of the court, who shifted from foot to foot at the end of it.

Cartha lifted one thin hand and placed it on the baby's forehead after three servants lifted the cradle and moved it to the center. Kiias wriggled slightly and began to fuss, but a steady glow soon rose from amidst the soft blankets. The cry turned to a soft coo, and Cartha almost smiled as she spoke her gift, the almost invisible blue glow pulsing slightly.

"I give thee the traditional gift of beauty. May it be not a curse but a blessing. May you use it well and not with callousness." She lifted her hands to her neck and she tugged out a very long chain of delicate silver, running her hands to the end and touching there the small gold leaf. Cartha kissed it and touched it to Kiias's forehead. A small pudgy hand struggled to grab it, but the Woods-lady pulled it back and turned from the front of the line.

Next, Marie approached, her age showing only in the thin lock of silver hair near her brow. Her skin was tight and still bore the sheen of youth, and her stance was graceful without a sign of stiffness. Her hand reached for Kiias with none of the smoothness of Cartha, but with more surety to the movement. The baby only gazed up at her, blinking sleepy blue eyes.

Once again, a blue light reached out from the fingers Marie pressed to Kiias' face.

"I give thee the traditional gift of intelligence. May you use it well and may it not be a burden in these times. May you use this gift with grace and kindness." With a quick flick of her wrist, she had the chain out and the leaf moved from her lips to Kiias without pause. She was gone with a flurry of skirts. Selsa watched her with narrowed eyes, wondering at the sudden abandonment of dignity as the Woods-lady all but fled the room. As the small door in the wall opened, the Queen caught a flash of Cartha's gray dress before the door swung closed.

Zahja approached with even more calmness to her bearing. Her hands came up with a showier flourish than the previous two. The glow was a more reedy blue than the others, but her voice was steady.

"I infuse thee with the magic of your ancestors, the great Thereds from the North, to be awakened upon the turning of your eighteenth year."

Selsa gave a little grunt of startlement, and caught the movement as the door in the wall closed gently, having been opened a crack. Ah.

"May you use it with caution and may your mastery grow with every hour you live." She was very slow lifting the leaf to the princess' forehead, but she was gone just as quickly as Marie. Selsa let out a hard breath that she hadn't been aware of holding. Copan gave her a swift look then turned back to the others before anyone could notice.

It was tradition that the Woodsfolk could not infuse a babe with magic. It had never been officially disallowed, but it was rare because of the danger it incurred. The qualification Zahja had added was therefore wise. But her extreme youth was very apparent with her impetuousness. Selsa gripped her hands tighter, and didn't blink an eye at the jewels and gold that were, from that point on, lain before the King and Queen. A typical practice. What use had a baby for gold? Kiias would as soon eat it as admire it for the purity it had.

The line slowly dwindled, until a mere three court members were left-an elderly duke, a newly widowed Countess who didn't seem very sad, and the youngest daughter of a sick Duke out to the west who was confined to his bed. She was shaking as she presented her gift, her lips trembling slightly before she pressed them tightly together. She gave her good wishes and bowed out, presenting herself as a man in this audience; she was, after all, her father's representative, and so endowed with all his power. Most women didn't observe that fully, which meant the bow that some believed diminished femininity.

They preferred to indulge in the advantages without partaking in what they viewed as disadvantages.

Selsa followed the girl's passage across the floor, her heels clicking abnormally loud. She touched Copan's hand tentatively, and he turned his palm to hers and entwined their fingers. Their daughter was carried before them, and Selsa eased Kiias from her comfy boudoir.

"Oh. What a good girl. You didn't fuss at all! You were a little angel, weren't you?"

"But we all know what a devil she is at heart," Copan chuckled. Selsa sent a mock glare his way. They watched the last of the guests slip out the huge main door and then she turned to him and he took his daughter into his arms. "I think she gets it from me."

"I'm going to have to agree," Selsa said wryly, quirking an eyebrow. His return was a solemn set to his mouth, and she had to laugh. He didn't join her there, but he had a sort of dry humor, and she knew him well enough to know he was fully amused. He lifted Kiias up higher and looked into her face, which was now scrunched with ecstasy.

The love he held so rarely manifested itself physically, but it was very strong and she knew that well. She'd been married to him for almost twenty years and he'd only said "I love you" seven times. She'd counted them; she'd cherished them. But still she knew he loved her immensely. Selsa could see that so often in his eyes.

"I believe it's time to put the little one to bed, dear," he said calmly, gently tucking Kiias back into the cradle. Selsa frowned.

"Dear, it's only four in the afternoon. She'll be fussy if she's put to bed too early." She let her hand drift over the edge of the carved wood and then dropped it to her side.

"I believe it's time we put her to bed, my Queen," he said in a more throaty voice. She raised both eyebrows and then gave a haughty little sniff.

"Why, I do believe you're right, Your Majesty. I shall bid the servants straight away, and the nursemaid can take her."

The elderly old crone had never been married, and had been taking care of children for the past fifty-seven years. For ten years before that, she had been midwife to more than three thousand women throughout the three-city community surrounding the capital of Roviserro. She had put Jani to bed when the first princess had been a baby, and now she wrapped Kiias and sang her to sleep.

Kiias was a little fussier now that the comforting presence of her mother was gone, but she was easily consoled. The blue blanket that now lay in her clutches always had that effect. The nursemaid had never seen any baby so comforted by a small device so consistently. Others would sometimes still kick and cry even when their security objects were wrapped in their arms. But as soon as Kiias touched the soft fabric, she quieted instantly.

The nursemaid looked upon her young charge kindly, and eventually dozed off in the rocking chair, her chin falling to her chest. Indelicate snores issued forth from her mouth. Kiias slept soundly, safe in the cradle crafted by her father's father.