The morning air was crisp when Elena finally stepped back into the courtyard.
Three days of confinement had left her restless but had surely relaxed her body after the recent events. Her chambers had been both a sanctuary and prison. There was always warm food, soft bedding and endless silence—but her thoughts had still grown in the quiet. Every time her hand drifted to the side of her neck, she felt a soft pulse where the mark had been although it was no where to be found on her neck.
Now, standing in the training grounds once more, Elena drew her first real breath of freedom.
The yard was alive with soldiers sparring with wooden blades and the clang of steel ringing in the distance. Yet when she entered, everyone immediately stopped what they were doing. One after the other, the men began to file out of the courtyard until she was left there alone...again. Elena let out a heavy sigh. What was she expecting anyways? She was the wife of the most feared prince.
"Milady," a man greeted with a curt bow. His voice carried respect, though she suspected it was more out of duty to her new title than genuine regard. "His Majesty ordered your recovery to be followed with immediate resumption of training. Today, we focus on self-defense and archery. Are you prepared?"
Her lips twitched at the question. 'Do I have a choice not to be?' she asked herself quietly. Prepared? No. But she'd rather do that than destroy her toes learning how to walk. "Yes," she replied firmly. "Yes, I am."
"Splendid!"
The first half of the morning was spent in the practice ring a few metres from the courtyard. She was handed a wooden sword, lighter than the regular sword but still awkward in her grip. Her instructor corrected her stance repeatedly, even to the point of hitting her leg with a small staff. 'Is this really how they train royals?!' she had thought over and over again. First it was the head maid and now this?
"You have to ground your weight, guard with your elbows tucked and move with precision rather than panic." he had told her severally as they practiced.
Sweat beaded her brow as she exchanged blows with another trainee, a young soldier who looked far too eager to defeat her. His strikes were quick, but not impossible to deflect. Each block rattled her arms, but she held her ground.
When he lunged with a heavy swing, Elena ducked and jabbed with the hilt of her blade, catching him off balance. The soldier stumbled, and for the first time, she allowed herself the smallest smile.
Damien stood at the balcony of the main building, watching her silently. He leaned against a column in a black attire focussing solely on her.
Soon, someone appeared beside him immediately bowing himself with one knee propped up. "Your highness. His majesty requests your presence at once." the man said with restrained urgency in his tone. Damien continued staring into the distance for a few seconds. If the King was calling him then it could only mean one thing: he probably needed him to be his dog again. Damien clicked his tongue before vanishing as quickly as the man had come.
After drills, she was led to the archery grounds. Targets painted in red and gold stood at varying distances with each of them embedded with the royal crest.
The instructor handed her a sleek and polished boy whose string felt taut under her fingers.
"Archery," he said, "is less about strength and more about focus. You must become still, Milady, to fully master this skill. Remember, the arrow flies where the mind wills."
She was soon led onto a raised platform and give arrows. Elena drew the string back with the arrow placed in it awkwardly at first. The bow felt foreign and she felt its sharpness sting her fingers as she drew it back. Her first shot fell short, allowing the arrow clatter into the dirt ground. A few attendants who had come to assist in picking the arrows snickered at her failed trial but the instructor silenced them with a glare.
Elena felt her face blush red with embarrassment. Tears began to well up in her eyes but she shook her head to dispell them. This time she inhaled deeply, blocking out the noise around her. The string trembled under her grip, but when she released, the arrow sliced through the air and struck the target's edge.
It wasn't perfect—but closer. The instructor looked at her with a slightly proud look on his face.
Something shifted inside her. A quiet thrill coursed through her veins, unlike anything she'd felt during other trainings. With every arrow she loosed, her focus heightened as she continued blocking out the noise around her. The whispers of doubt that had plagued her seemed to hush instantly. Even the attendants started clapping and cheering her on.
By her tenth attempt, the arrow struck the target's center with a satisfying thunk.
A murmur rose among the gathering. The instructor arched a brow. "Well done milady. I see you're getting better at this, and it's just your first day."
Elena lowered the bow slowly as she felt her heart racing with renewed excitement. She glanced again toward the courtyard's edge, somehow expecting Damien to have seen her but he wasn't there. Disappointment flickered in her chest for a passing second before she crushed it down.
'No. His opinion doesn't matter anyway' she said, shaking away the thought.
Still, for the first time since her arrival in this cursed palace, she felt a semblance of control. Archery gave her something to enjoy and free her mind her from the madness happening around her.
By evening, Elena's muscles ached pleasantly from continuous use. She was about to retire to her chambers when a guard arrived, bowing himself stiffly.
"Her Majesty requests your presence in the main palace."
Her steps faltered. The main palace was not a place she had set foot in since her marriage ritual. She had for some reason dreaded going there probably due to her first experience there.
Nevertheless, she followed reluctantly. Not that she could do otherwise, this was the Queen.
The vast hall with its ceilings draped with banners that caught the light of flickering chandeliers loomed ahead of her as she walked by. The attendant led her to a room located at the far end of the corridor on the third floor. She stepped inside the room only to be greeted by darkness and a strange yet strong scent from an incense burner hanging from the ceiling.
Strange...
The Queen sat upon a cream colored couch dressed in a lilac, armless dress with a long robe covering her. In her hand she held a sleek glass containing a red liquor, twirling it mildly before taking a sip from it. Elena could tell that it certainly wasn't wine.
"Elena," the Queen greeted in a voice smooth as silk, though her eyes were sharp. "How fares your recovery?"
"Well enough, Your Grace." Elena bowed.
The Queen smiled softly at her before taking another sip from her glass. She swirled her wine, watching the liquid catch the light emanating from the grounds below. "I heard of your encounter at the royal hunt and how you were in a coma. I truly worried about you, dear." she said in a low voice that sounded too deceptive to be true.
Elena hesitated. She hadn't even said anything strange yet she could still feel the darkness weighed heavily in her words " I assure you to worry not, your Grace for I am in good health." she answered politely, still bowing.
"That's wonderful my dear. We wouldn't want anything bad happening to our beloved prince's wife would we now?." Elena's head shot up and she looked directly at her. What did she mean by that?
The Queen's storm-gray eyes glinted noticeably in the dark. She then leaned forward, reaching for a small basket behind the table. "Why don't you join an old woman for some quality time? I hear knitting is a thing of attraction among young girls." Without hesitation, Elena moved to where the queen sat, sitting opposite her. She picked up a ball of yarn with its knitters stabbed into it and started to knit.
A few minutes later, the Queen spoke up again.
"You must be really excited about your new status considering the fact that you came from quite humble backgrounds." she said, breaking the ice cold silence.
Elena felt her face heat up again in embarrassment. What was she trying to do?
"Carry yourself stronger than before, dear. You're going to need it."
Elena's brows knitted in confusion. "S—sorry? I—I don't understand."
"You will," the Queen replied simply, reclining back as if the matter were closed.
Before Elena could press further, the heavy doors creaked open and the attendant from before appeared once again.
Damien approached the King's chambers with measured steps. He entered as soon as he arrived, kneeling at his feet.
"There is unrest among the rogues," he started without beating around the bush. "I cannot leave the kingdom unattended. Yet the ceremony of alliance with the Kingdom of Veylar cannot be ignored. We will not risk offending it. You will go as our representative."
Silence enveloped the space before the king spoke again. "I cannot send the crown prince and I believe you know why. You leave by dawn tomorrow."
Damien, who had silently been listening straightened himself and faced the king. "I will do as his majesty requests on one condition."
The King raised a brow as he turned to meet his gaze. "Oh? And what might that be?"
"My wife accompanies me," Damien said without hesitation.
The King's eyes narrowed at his request. For a long moment, the silence stretched, heavy as iron. Then, at last, he gave a single nod. "So be it. She will go with you."
With a slight bow, Damien vanished from his presence, silence enveloping the room once again...
Later that night, Damien came to her chambers, barging in as though he owned the place. He didn't knock—he never knocked.
"You'll prepare to leave at dawn," he said simply.
She spun on him in surprise. Elena looked at him bewildered as she quickly scrambled off the bed to her feet. "Why is that? What is happening tomorrow?" she asked hurriedly.
"I will be leaving for a distant kingdom by tomorrow and you will be coming with me." Elena felt her heart snap.
"Wha—what?!" she exclaimed at him while he remained his stoic expression. There was only one Kingdom that bordered Zerethane; the kingdom of Veylar. She had heard stories about the ruthlessness of the King and how merciless he was. And what? They were going to send her there?!
"Your majesty...I—I," she stuttered, too stunned to make any sense. "That was so unexpected..."
Damien narrowed his eyes at her. He pushed himself from the wall and walked slowly towards her, his gaze never straying from hers.
Upon reaching her, he lowered himself to her level. Elena stumbled back, almost falling on the bed but Damien was quicker, grabbing her shoulders before she fell.
"And just what might be the problem with my decision, princess?" he asked
Elena could barely make sense of the situation. Her lips parted to reply but no words came out. God! He was just too overwhelming.
He moved his face closer to hers, further paralysing her speech. "Or would you rather I leave you with this den of lions to gobble you up? ."
Her breath caught and for a moment, she almost couldn't breathe.
"Your— your highness, I—"
"You have no excuses. Call in your maids to prepare your things. We leave at dawn tomorrow."
Elena nodded stiffly, finally finding her tongue "As you wish, your highness."
Damien inclined his head, satisfied. "Then rest now. Tomorrow, we travel."
As the door closed behind him, Elena collapsed on the bed. The moonlight touched her skin, and the crescent mark on her neck shimmered faintly, as though it too awaited what was to come. But she couldn't feel it this time.
..............
"Your highness, we have sent word to the king. Their representatives arrive by tomorrow." a bulky man said to a figure standing calmly on a tree.
"Are they now" he muttered quietly to himself, one side of his lips curling up at the thought. Without a moment of waiting, he crouched down before leaping down and snapping the neck of a wild tiger. A satisfied grin graced his sharp features as he lifted the animal to his lips, drinking satisfactorily from it.
"This will be fun..."