Chapter One

Varahnielle Trennandaile sighed wearily as she dipped her quill into a nearby inkwell for what seemed the trillionth time in the past hour. She produced a few lazy strokes on the parchment before her, uninterested, as always, in her calligraphy. She glanced over at Grace, who sat beside her at the table. She, too, was working with her handwriting. She did not notice Varahnielle’s gaze, however, for she was caught up in her own thoughts as she wrote. She turned her gaze back to her own, noticing, for the first time, how childish her calligraphy was compared to Grace’s.

It was nothing new to Varahnielle. She had grown used to being at Grace’s side, and vice versa. They had grown up together, often sharing rooms throughout the years, despite the numerous chambers in the castle. Grace was the best friend she had in the castle, and was as close to her as a sister. She thought of her sister, Aileen, who was nearly four years her junior. She loved her sister dearly, but she was never quite able to share her feelings and secrets as easily as she could with Grace.

“Do you plan on completing your calligraphy assignment today, Varahnielle?” Nurse Bella replied from her armchair, which was perched a distance away from the table. She was engrossed in her stitchery.

Varahnielle almost jumped at the sudden address. She produced a guilty look, but noticed that Bella was not even giving her a second glance. Grace, who had been stirred from daydreams, gave a slight giggle. Ever since they were small children, Bella had had a way of knowing when they were straying from their studies, or simply scheming. Varahnielle sighed in answer, “Bella, I’m tired of practicing calligraphy. I’m tired of mathematics, I’m tired of language. I’m tired of studying. Grace and I have been busy ever since breakfast, and it’s nigh on two in the afternoon now. Can we please call it a day?” Grace nodded in agreement.

Bella glanced out the window and indeed found it to be getting late. “Very well,” she replied. “It’s nearing time for your music lesson, anyhow.” The girls groaned. Bella frowned. She loved the girls, but she had definitely had her work cut out for herself in the past years.

First of all, she had agreed to take care of only one child when she had accepted the nursemaid job nearly fifteen years ago. Grace however, quickly became her second child, when the two refused to be separated. Grace lived as the two princesses did, due to the rank of her father in the Faerlytian Army. She received the same clothing, education, and service as the other children in the castle, without the burden of the royal title, which she knew Varahnielle ached for. Grace’s father, Latameir, recently let Grace receive swordsmanship lessons. When Varahnielle inquired on receiving the same treatment, her parents had refused, saying that a future queen would need no such training, and that fighting in any shape or form was not ladylike, and Bella agreed. However, over the past month, she had not heard the end of Varahnielle’s complaining.

She addressed the girls’ complaints, “You’re very fortunate to have music lessons with Mr. Farley. He’s one of the most respected musicians in Faerlyte, and on the Rain Harp as well. Many girls would love to have such an experience.”

Varahnielle exchanged knowing glances with Grace. They had been having lessons on the Rain Harp for nearly three months and neither were doing particularly well. The strings were too difficult to master, and both agreed that Mr. Farley should have stayed with his orchestra and continue to direct. He may have been gifted with music, but teaching was definitely not his forte. When the girls would make mistakes in their fingering, he would grow increasingly frustrated. The lessons were exhausting and the girls dreaded them every week.

Bella and the girls helped to put safely away the calligraphy workbooks, quills and ink before she looked them over. She brushed out some of the wrinkled in their dresses, debating if she should make them change. She saw no ink stains, and, after listening to the girls sighs, grudgingly dismissed them to their music lesson.

The two girls left their bedroom. Grace glanced out the nearby window, sighing, “We still have a good twenty minutes before Mr. Farley comes.” She gave her friend a pointed glare. “I can’t believe I let you talk Bella into sending me to these lessons as well. I would rather be baby-sitting Reilli,” she added sarcastically, referring to Greirden’s youngest son, and Amrian’s only brother.

Reilli was barely over the age of eight, and was the youngest child in the castle. Naturally, he wanted to spend time with his bother and cousins, but often would be unable to keep up with their games or was too young to do certain things. The other children in the castle loved him, but he was very bothersome. He was quite the tag-along and was stuck in a never-ending phase of tattle-telling. Varahnielle and Grace had gotten in trouble with Bella and Louise, Reilli’s nursemaid, numerous times because of his ways.

Varahnielle giggled some but quickly sobered up at the thought of Mr. Farley. “I truly wish I could fire him or something of the sort,” she said, sadly. “He’s a horrible teacher. It’s not like we don’t practice the Rain Harp. Bella makes us every other day, it’s just-”

“Hard to grasp,” Grace finished, nodding in agreement. “I know, but there’s not much we can do about it. We’ve already talked with Bella and you even saw your father about the situation.”

“My father wasn’t much of a help, anyhow. He only spoke to me for a few minutes, told me that we are learning from only the best, and dismissed me. I hate being a princess! What good is being royalty, if you can’t even fire someone when you need to?”

Grace shrugged, knowing that she was entering dangerous territory. Varahnielle was sensitive about the fact that Grace received special treatment, due to the fact that she did not carry a royal title. She decided to turn the conversation to a more pressing topic, “What are we going to do with twenty minutes of spare time?”

Varahnielle was quiet for a moment, then looked outside a window they passing. Grace joined her at the sill. Outside they could see the Faerlytian Army training out on the castle grounds. At the current time, the Army was in its ranks, bearing their arms which ranged from large, gleaming swords to long bows to battle axes. The two generals, Greirden and Latameir, could be seen standing outside the formation. Some of the other Lieutenants could be seen as well. Varahnielle grinned, “What if we went to go pay the Army a visit?”

Grace frowned and gave her friend a reproachful glare, “You know Bella will skin us alive if we miss the lesson.”

Varahnielle countered with an expression of both mischievousness and eagerness. “Oh, come on! Lets! I’m almost positive we’ll see Amrian training there as well! It’ll be fun!” she pleaded. “Plus, Mr. Farley is almost always late to the lesson. That gives us nearly a half hour to get down there and watch the action!”

Grace crossed her arms, “I hardly call watching the troops do drills ‘action’. And what if we get delayed? Mr. Farley will surely tell Bella, and-”

Varahnielle cut her short, “Oh, Grace, stop worrying so much. We have plenty of time, but if you keep arguing, we’ll have no time left at all!” She grinned. “We might even see Ashton while we’re down there. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Grace’s face tinged pink at the mention of his name. She had had quite a fancy in Ashton LaCrois ever since he enrolled in the Faerlytian Army nearly seven months ago. She had gotten to speak with him on occasion, but only a few sentences were exchanged at a time. She always grew flustered when he addressed her and typically Varahnielle had to haul her away before she managed to make a fool of herself. Grace grinned, “Fine, lets head on down, but only for a few minutes.”

Varahnielle smiled, “That’s what I like to hear.”

The two quickly headed down to the first landing and exited the castle through the kitchen’s side door. They had had to pass through so many corridors and doorways, that getting down to the castle grounds ate up nearly ten minutes’ time. As they entered out into the sunshine, they could feel a cool, autumn breeze across their arms and face. Varahnielle shivered and crossed her arms, wishing she had brought her cloak along to ward off the cold air.

They kept their pace strong as they walked across the grounds, towards the sound or martial commands coming from the generals. It wasn’t long before they came up upon the massive troops. Varahnielle glanced about. The troops seemed to be at rest. Their arms were down and the soldiers took advantage of the break in commands to either catch their breath or clean their weapons for the inspection that was bound to occur later in the day. They two girls approached the two generals, who were in the middle of an intense discussion. They remained quiet, partly out or respect and party so that they could eavesdrop on the latest happenings in Faerlyte. It was their only way of knowing about the “war” going on outside the boundaries of Faerlyte.

“He’s actually dispatching you beyond the border?” Latameir inquired, interested. “He hardly ever ends anyone outside of Faerlyte, especially us. It’s typically Bardric or Garroway. What’s the situation?”

“Apparently there have been a few skirmishes and disappearances outside the border,” Greirden replied. “Rhenier wants me to investigate, and quickly. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“Who will be accompanying you?”

“Rhenier want me to take a few of our most experienced men, other than the Lieutenants, of course. I’ll be taking Brynn, of course, as well as his son and the twins Forrin and Lorro. They should be enough, I would think…” Grierden noticed the pain in his friend’s eyes. Latameir longed to be put on a mission himself. It had literally been years since he was sent out. “I would take you along if I could, Latameir. But Rhenier-”

Latameir, nodded, smiling slightly. “I know. Don’t fret, old friend. It’s that son of yours I worry about. He’s going to be disappointed when he finds out you’re not letting him come along.”

Greirden chuckled slightly. “Yes, but he will have to deal with it like the Fighter he’s training to be. He’s still far too green in his training to even think about going outside the castle walls, let alone the boarder.”

It was then that Latameir noticed the two girls beside them. “Well, good afternoon, ladies,” he replied, smiling. “What brings you out here?”

Grace sighed, almost in unison with Varahnielle. “Nurse Bella has finally given us a break in our studies. We decided to pass the time by getting some fresh air.”

Grierden smiled, glancing up at the position of the sun. “Isn’t it about time for your Rain Harp lesson?”

The girls frowned. “Don’t remind us,” Varahnielle replied. “We still have a few minutes, anyhow. Have you seen Amrian, Uncle Grierden?” She knew that Ashton typically was in position near Amrian as well. “He’s in the fourth division.”

They thanked the generals and made their law over to Amrian and, hopefully, Ashton. They kept their dressed from dragging on the ground and catching weapons. The last thing either of them needed was to have Bella lecture them, or worse, have them mend their own dresses. After a few seconds of searching, Varahnielle caught sight of Amrian. It was hard to miss his tall, lanky form and auburn hair. They approached as he was cleaning his sword. He gave them a quick smile. “What are you do doing down here? Shouldn’t Bella be forcing you to a music lesson right about now?” His voice was teasing, but Varahnielle did not find his joke to be too humorous.

She grimaced, “Don’t remind us.” She turned to Grace, but she was already several feet away, conversing with a young man. He was rather muscular since he wielded a battle ax and had deep, brown hair. She recognized him to be Ashton immediately.

Amrian followed her gaze, and chuckled. He quickly sobered up when Varahnielle turned to him. “So what did my father say?” “What?” she asked, as if she knew nothing. She had hoped he hadn’t seen her earlier. It would only cause him grief if he knew of his father’s new assignment. “Oh, don’t act daft!” he snapped. “They were right in the middle of a discussion when you two came up. You must have heard something!”

Varahnielle sighed. She hated to see him in such a state. He wanted nothing more than to become a general, like his father, and hearing that he wasn’t to go out on the expedition would only discourage him further. “Well, Uncle Grierden is being sent out beyond the borders to investigate some disappearances.”

Amrian’s eyes danced with excitement. “Did he say who he was taking along with him?”

Varahnielle shook her head, “No, he didn’t. At least I didn’t hear…” Amrian could see right through her fabrication. He glared at her, silently demanding that she tell him everything that she knew. She stomped her foot, “Oh, fine! He’s taking Brynn, Brynnson, Forrin and Lorro.” She knew that her words had stung, even if she hadn’t meant them to.

“Are you sure that’s all?” he asked, eyes downcast. It had obviously been a massive blow to his ego. She nodded, “I’m sorry, Amrian. I know how badly you want to be sent out on a mission…”

Amrian frowned and in a burst of anger sent his blade flying downward into the ground. The blade landed in the grass and stayed stationary. It had been so close that Varahnielle could hear the humming as he had threw it. “It’s not fair!” he stated, angry. He kept his voice level enough to where only his cousin could hear. “Forrin and Lorro have only had a few more months of training that I have! My father knows how much I practice and how much I want to go! His reasoning is ridiculous!”

Varahnielle nodded in agreement. Amrian could always be found with his sword, and if he wasn’t he was typically being forced to come inside and eat or sleep. She knew that he was putting in all the effort that he could. “I know, Amrian. But…he is your father. He probably worries about you. He would hate to see you injured in battle, especially if he could have prevented it. Maybe-”

“How can he make a judgment like that if he doesn’t even give me the chance to go outside the walls and prove that I know what I’m doing?”

Varahnielle sighed. She knew he was right and that it was a lost cause trying to argue with him. “I know that, Amrian. He just cares about you is all…”

“He cares too much,” he muttered in response. He pulled his blade from the ground, regretting that he had hurtled it, especially when they were having an inspection later in the evening. He sighed, “Well, maybe I can convince him to let me go later,” he thought out loud.

Varahnielle nodded. She knew her cousin to not only be great at swordsmanship, but he was also a master at persuasion as well. If anyone could convince her uncle of something, she knew it would be him. She glanced back over at Grace, who was still engaged in conversation with Ashton. Amrian followed her gaze. “She may as well admit that she has fallen head over heels for him…” he stated.

Varahnielle giggled, nodding. “She’s had something for him for an age now.” She turned her attention from the couple over to the troops, who were still at rest. “I had hoped that I could watch you drill some while we were out,” she said. She glanced up at the position of the sun. It had moved, ever so slightly to the west, a clear indication that she and Grace had better start heading up to class once again.

She bid her cousin good-bye before fetching her friend. The two headed back toward the castle in silence. Grace was red from her conversation with Ashton. “He told me to call him Ash!” she giggled. “Can you believe it?” It took everything within Varahnielle to keep from rolling her eyes.

They headed toward the south entrance since it was closer to the room where their music lesson would be held. Grace stopped momentarily, her gaze caught at the west side of the grounds, where the cemetery was. “What’s-” Varahnielle began. She fell silent when saw why Grace had paused. Her mother was buried just beyond the cemetery gates, and it was nearing that time of year again…

Grace turned and sprinted toward the gates without so much as a word. Varahnielle followed behind her. Despite how fast she pressed herself, Grace was always at least five feet ahead of her. She stopped for a breather as Grace entered through the gates. Varahnielle walked behind her, trying both to catch her breath and to give Grace some time alone with her mother.

Varahnielle spotted her friend immediately when she came through the gates. Grace was standing to the left of the gates, just beyond a few graves. She was silent and still, and to Varahnielle, she seemed to disturb the peace as her feet crunched along the dead grass behind Grace. She said nothing, only stood beside her friend in comfort. Both knew that they were going to be late to their lesson now that they had taken a detour but neither seemed to care that much.

Helena Alturrin’s grave was one of the few that was very well kept. Grace came and laid flowers down whenever she was permitted to (or whenever she and Varahnielle could sneak down from their quarters as they had done today), and her father came by every chance he got. The headstone was weathered from the many years it had been exposed to the rain and snow, but Helena’s name was still visible. Grace crouched down and pulled up the grass that had grown up around the headstone. “Another twelve days and it will have been eleven years ago…” she said aloud without turning to her friend. Varahnielle sighed and laid a comforting hand on Grace’s shoulder. She did not know what it was like to loose a loved one, but Grace had shown her that it could take quite a toll on the spirit, no matter how many years pass.

“I’m sorry, Grace…” she said. Her words seemed to have an emptiness about them. She knew they wouldn’t help her friend suffer through the grief, but at least Grace knew that she was there to fall back on. Varahnielle knew from experience that the next two weeks would be difficult for her friend. I’ll just have to be there for her, she resolved. They managed to make it through every year, and this one would be no exception.

“What do you think you uncle meant by having skirmishes and disappearances outside of the boarder?” Grace asked, finally breaking the silence within the cemetery. “Do you think it was with the Golem?”

Varahnielle had been wondering the same thing herself. “Could very well be,” she replied. “Otherwise I don’t think my father would send his second or third in command. He dreads sending them outside the boundaries of Faerlyte in general…” King Rhenier would have sent one of the lieutenants to attend to the problem if they were with neighboring countries, but like every Faerlytian citizen knew, the Golem were murderous and formidable. It would take only the best to get to the bottom of things. No wonder Uncle Grierden hadn’t let Amrian go along, she thought. He’s never experienced a real battle before, let alone the Golem. Though her cousin was a talented warrior, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the Golem.

“I hope the mission is successful,” Grace replied, still facing her mother’s grave. “I would hate to see another life ended due to the Golem’s wrath…”

Amrian Trennandaile purposely strode towards his father’s office. Word had spread quickly, at least throughout the troops, about the excursion that General Grierden and Sergeant Brynn would be attending to. He still couldn’t believe that he wasn’t chosen to accompany his father. He had been practicing for such an event since he could toddle. He knew that he was a far better choice than Forrin or Lorro! If it was obvious to him that they were inadequate for the job, surly his father would be able to see it as well.

Amrian inhaled deeply as his father’s office came into view. He stopped and knocked forcefully on the door. “Come in,” Grierden called from inside. His voice seemed almost preoccupied. Amrian entered, hoping that he had not called on his father at a bad time. Grierden sat at his desk, maps laid out before him. There were numerous amounts of scrolls, and even some crudely drawn ones as best. Grierden glanced up at his son. He had apparently been mapping out where his party would be leaving within the next few days. “Ah, son. Sit down,” he invited.
Amrian took the seat across from the desk that his father had offered. “What is on your mind?” Grierden inquired. He already had a hunch as to what his son had come to him for. Somehow, word about the Golem attacks had leaked out to the Army.

“Sir, I’ve heard rumors from the other Fighters that you are to be sent out on a scouting party outside the Faerlytian borders.” He tried to speak as professionally as he could, seeing as he was not only speaking to his father, but to his commander as well.

Grierden nodded, curtly, “Yes, that’s correct.” There was no since in trying to keep the truth from him. He would simply ask the other Fighters about it later for confirmation. Even he had been a green warrior once.

“For what reason, may I ask?” Amrian added.

“Oh, there have been a few skirmishes at the north-eastern boarder is all,” Grierden answered in an off-handed manner. “King Rhenier just wants it attended to so that no innocent Faerlytians get injured.”

There was a short silence between the father and son. “Was it the Golem?” Amrian asked. “Are they attacking us?” Though he had heard from Varahnielle that it was true, he still needed to be sure.

“Well, I hardly call it attacking,” Grierden replied. “And we can’t know for sure that it’s the Golem until we go out and investigate…”

Amrian raised a brow. “I wasn’t born yesterday, father,” he stated. He knew that he was treading into dangerous territory as far as his language went, but he wanted his father to know that he was no longer a child and that he was more apt to hearing news about the undeclared “war” now than ever. “King Rhenier wouldn’t have sent out his second in command if it weren’t for a pressing reason.”

Grierden pursed his lips, trying to keep his anger from surfacing. He hated when it was mentioned that he was seldom sent out on missions. He had only been involved in a few excursions since the last war with the Golem, nearly eleven years ago. He had never questioned his brother’s motives for keeping him within Faerlyte. He wouldn’t do so unless he had good reason, especially when the King knew that he lived only to battle. “Well, I do admit that some of the disappearances have proved to be rather strange, but I do not think that it is too much to worry about. Like I said, I trust my brother’s judgment.”

Amrian was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. “Did Uncle Rhenier tell you who would accompany you?” Perhaps, if the King had not assigned a party to his father, he still would have a chance to join them. He was certain that his father would oblige. He had been practicing for as long as he could remember for such an opportunity.

“No, he didn’t. I decided that I would take Brynn and his son. Forrin and Lorro seem to be quite the promising pair as well. I figured it was nigh time that they try out what they have learned.” Grierden knew that his son wanted to come along, but he was still not ready for such an adventure, and he would have to make it clear.

It took everything within Amrian to keep from bursting with excitement. His father only had four others joining him on the expedition, and he was certain that he would need another pair of hands along the journey. “I request permission to come along,” Amrian stated, professionally. I will finally get the chance to battle, he thought, elated.

“Of course not,” Grierden replied without a moment’s hesitation.

Amrian found himself doing a double-take at his father’s words. Had he heard him correctly? He wasn’t allowed to go? “Excuse me?” He asked, perplexed. Surely, it was some sort of cruel joke his father was playing on him.

“You heard me, Amrian,” Grierden stated. “You’re not to come along.”

Amrian knew that it was not in his place as a Fighter to question his commander’s assumptions, but he was also his son. Surely, he was entitled to some answers. “But…but why?” he stammered, acting more like the teenager he was rather than the adult he wanted others to believe he was.

“Because, you still have several more years of training to complete before you will be able to test your knowledge in battle. You could-”

Amrian stood angry, “Father, I have been practicing for an opportunity like this ever since I was old enough to wield a sword! How can you say that I am still green in my training after eight years of working my way into the ranks? I know what I am capable of! I can do this!”

Grierden stood as well, level with his son, his anger struck once more. “I don’t know where you learned to interrupt your commander, soldier, but you best learn your place before I demote you even further down the ranks. You’re forgetting that you are speaking to your father. I’m the one that gave you the sword that you practice on and I can very easily take it from you like I did before…” His words stung Amrian, as Grierden knew they would.

Amrian treasured his ability at swordsmanship, and Grierden knew that his son would make an excellent leader one day, if he stayed true to his position in the Army. He had the skills to become a great Fighter, even at the young age of sixteen, but Amrian had yet to learn how to obey orders.

He had proven that nearly three years ago, when he became the youngest warrior to enter Faerlytian Fighter training. Latameir was sent off on a peace mission with the neighboring country, Sountarr, along with seven others. Even then, Amrian had asked permission to go. He had been denied. Later, when Latameir and his comrades left, Amrian had decided to follow. When Grierden had noticed his absence later that day, the King sent out a search party. Latameir had managed to locate him before Greirden had. When he was escorted back home, Grierden stripped him of his sword in front of the most well respected warriors in all of Faerlyte. It had been a harsh punishment, but one that Grierden knew would be effective. Ever since then, his son had grown increasingly aware of his limitations as a warrior-in-training.

Amrian knew went to keep silent, despite the toll his father’s harsh words had taken on him. He sat back down in his seat. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Grierden nodded, knowing that his son only apologized out of respect. He sat back down as well. “Amrian, I can’t let you come along because you still have much to learn. You have not experience battle before, and you know as well as I do that Golem could meet us while we are outside the boarders. I can’t expose you to that level of danger, especially as your first mission. What if you were to get hurt?”

“I won’t,” Amrian replied, indignant. “I know what I am doing!”

“Son, you know of battle only in theory. You have not battled against someone who is bound and determined to kill you,” he paused a moment to let the message sink in. “I cannot let you come along, perhaps next time.”

“That’s what you said last time and the time before that! Forrin and Lorro have never battled before either, but you are letting them come along!”

“They have had two more years’ worth of training than you have, Amrian. You are not ready yet!” Both men’s voices were rising into a heated debate. Obviously, Grierden’s warning had not proved to be very useful.

“How can you say that!? You haven’t even given me a chance to prove myself in battle yet!” Amrian was clearly frustrated.

“You are proving yourself right now, Son,” Grierden boomed over his son’s voice. “You are not acting like an experienced warrior. If you were, you would take my orders and follow them. You have not learned anything in the past three years! Amrian, in order to become a great warrior and general, you must first learn to listen and obey orders! I assure you, until you learn to listen to me you will not step a foot outside of the castle gates, let alone the boarders of Faerlyte. You are dismissed!” He turned his attention away from his son and to his maps once more.

Amrian wasn’t about to give up so easily. “Father, if you would just-”

“I said you are dismissed, Amrian! I do not want to hear any more of your arguments. Now, go! Leave me in peace!”

Amrian could tell that his face was red from anger and he had to forcibly turn himself away from his father’s office so that he wouldn’t continue to argue. He slammed the door behind him, not particularly concerned with paying his father any more respect. As a son and warrior, he deserved some respect as well. Why doesn’t he think that I can manage this? He thought, discouraged. I’m no longer a child. He treats me no netter than he does Reilli, and he’s only six years of age! That thought enraged him even more. I’ll show him, he thought, resolved. I’ll show him just how strong I’ve become in the past years! He began to formulate a plan then and there, bound and determined to show his father that he knew what it took to be a warrior…and it wasn’t obedience, as he kept insisting.

Varahnielle sighed wearily. She sat down on her down mattress and ran her wire brush through her thick locks of curly hair. It was still as unruly as it could be, despite the bath she had just recently taken. She frowned as she tried to brush out a knot. Grace giggled at the sight from her vanity across the room. “No amount of magic will ever tame your hair, you know?” she teased as she made her way to her own bed parallel from her friend’s.

“Don’t rub it in,” Varahnielle replied, good-naturedly as she sat aside the brush for the night. She climbed into bed. “What do you think my parent’s needed to see Bella for?” she asked. She was thinking out loud more than she was addressing the question to Grace.

“Probably to ask her why we weren’t at our music lesson on time,” Grace answered. They had been over fifteen minutes late since they had taken the time to stop by the cemetery and, needless to say, Mr. Farley had not been too pleased. After receiving more of a lecture on promptness than on the Rain Harp, Mr. Farley had told Bella of their tardiness. After that, they received a stern talking-to from Bella as well.

The girls were in the middle of an intense conversation when they heard their bedroom door open. Bella appeared, her face bright. Apparently, she had received good news from the king and queen. “Oh, I have wonderful news, Varahnielle!” she said as she sat down on the foot of her bed.

Grace and Varahnielle exchanged curious glances. “What is it?” she asked, intrigued. She hadn’t seen Bella so excited in quite a while. Not ever since her last…

“You are going to have company this weekend! Isn’t it lovely?” Bella was tickled.

“From who?” Varahnielle inquired, almost afraid to ask, due to the answer she might receive. Somehow, she already knew what the occasion would be, deep down in her gut, and it wasn’t one that she typically looked forward to.

“You have a suitor coming within the next few days. His name is Prince Tymmothi of Oldenarc. You’ve heard of him before, haven’t you?”

“I’ve heard horror stories,” Varahnielle answered under her breath.

Bella caught her words, however. “Oh, nonsense! I’m sure this Prince Tymmothi is quite the gentleman. Just give him a chance, Varahnielle.”

Varahnielle frowned and turned her gaze to Grace. She had a sympathetic frown of her own. Varahnielle had never managed to have good luck with suitors, even back when she was a small child. In fact, she had earned the nickname as the “Picky Princess” throughout Havenia for reasons that she didn’t even want to recall half the time. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed, behind Bella’s back. She knew this weekend would prove to be not only a long one, but difficult as well.