Prince Markus was walking down along the rocky beach, as he so often did most mornings. His two retainers maintained a respectable distance from him, walking some ten meters behind, armored and armed to the teeth. The morning walk on the beach had become something of a habit as of late for Markus. Life in the palace had become rather bothersome after all, and so taking an hour after breakfast to clear his head was a welcome distraction.
However today, for whatever reason, he had decided to go for his walk before having breakfast. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was just this lingering, nagging sensation at the back of his mind, which pushed him down towards the ocean this morning. So here he was, trodding along the rocky shoreline, the wind gently playing with his shirt and hair. He breathed in the fresh salt-water air, and could almost taste the ocean on the wind. His mind was not as still and calm as he himself appeared however. He was the Crown-Prince, set to inherit the throne in a couple of months, as his father the King had passed away not long ago. However, the current Queen was not his mother. She wants the throne to pass to her own son which she had with the late king, but he is too young. So she has to delay the upcoming coronation somehow, or she will have to make him ineligible to inherit it.
For that reason, she has begun to push for him to marry, but the candidates she brings him every week, while delightful to look at, cannot be trusted. So either he marry a girl of the Queen's choosing, and risk being married to an agent of his enemy who could deny him an heir or worse, or he refuses to marry and thus also fail to father an heir, which will also further harm his reputation. If only there was a way he could find a suitable woman, who was educated, had a good upbringing and noble lineage, yet was not from around here and thus not subject to the will of the Queen. But... that was too much to hope for-
Markus's boot caught on something, and he nearly fell over. He had been so lost in his own thoughts he had not paid attention on where he was going. However, what had he just tripped over? It had not been hard like rock, after all, but rather soft and mushy. He glanced down, and froze in his tracks. Laid down just on the shoreline, and covered in seaweed, was a person. A woman with beautiful, silvery blonde hair to the point it was almost white. A fair complexion, small nose, soft plush-looking lips, clad in a thick blue dress that was laden heavy with water. Instinctively, he knelt down, almost regretful. What a shame, he thought, that such a beautiful woman had faced such a tragic end. He moved his hand to her cheek, and then recoiled. It had been been warm per say, but also not cold and lifeless like that of a corpse. Quickly he bent over, ear just above her lips. It was there, soft breathing. Extremely faint, but there!
"Karl, Brandon! Get over here now!" he barked back orders towards his retainers. They rushed to his location, and together, they tore parts of the dress off, then dragged the woman a bit further up the shore, putting her on her side, and patted her on the back. The poor woman coughed up some water as soon as she was turned over, but would not stir. She was shivering, her body no doubt suffering from hypothermia, so Markus removed his cloak and swept her up in it. And then, he picked her up, one arm hooked under her legs, the other supporting her back, letting her head lull against his shoulder.
"Karl, run ahead and inform the servants to prepare the room adjacent to mine. Now!" he commanded, and one of the retainers took off down the beach, in the direction of the Palace. The other one offered to carry the girl, but Markus refused. There was something special about this girl, he knew it instinctively. And he would be the one to uncover just what that was...
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*Sometime later*
Lydia stirred from her slumber, and looked around, studying the room she found herself in. It was a generous room to be sure, with all the modern necessities. A few wardrobes, bookcases, a sofa by the unlit fireplace, a coffee-table, a work-desk, and then of course the bed. Extremely comfortable, king-size. And everything was nicely decorated in shades of light pink and purple.
Then there was she herself. She was undoubtedly alive, she had already checked her pulse first thing. But the nightgown she wore, well, that wasn't hers. So someone must have undressed her, when she was unconscious. Naturally, she did not like the idea of that. However, what was stranger was the strange sensation coursing through her body. Magic. A lot of magic. She felt herself absolutely brimming with it, and it was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Certainly, she had possessed some magical power before, but it had been just enough to perform some small party tricks. Light some fires, make beautiful lights dance overhead, that sort of thing.
But now this, this was something else. She felt like she could do anything, like there was no limit at all. She could not help but let out a short laugh, as she looked down at her hands, before she sat up in the bed. She was alive, and not only that, she had awakened to some incredible power. The meeting with the dragon, her "Grandmother", must have actually been real and not just some fever dream.
Just then, the door opened and a maid-servant of some sort stepped inside the room, carrying a large canister of some kind. She had long curly black hair, and slightly tanned skin, along with mysterious dark eyes. As the maid-servant stepped in, the two women's eyes met. Lydia looked at her, sat upright in the bed, and the maid-servant looked at her. There was a moment of silence, before the servant then immediately left the room and closed the door. Lydia could hear loud voices outside, and the rushing of feet. Moments later, it was now a man who swiftly entered her room. He too had dark hair and somewhat tanned skin, but his eyes were a deep blue, similar to her own. Muscular, tall, appeared to be a few years older than her, early twenties. Nice clothes, so definitely of noble birth. And handsome, or so Lydia thought.
He stopped in the middle of the room, halfway to the bed, and looked a bit lost. Lydia was a bit curious too. He had burst in so confidently, rushed over, only to stop halfway. Perhaps he simply did not want to startle her. Then he spoke, and his voice was deep, and exotic. Lydia recognized this as the language of the southern parts of the continent, called Haran.
"Hello, do you understand me?" the man had asked, placing a hand upon his chest, over his heart, a form of greeting in the south. Thankfully, Lydia had studied Haran, and was actually fluent in all of the four main languages of the continent. So when she answered, she did so well, albeit with a bit of an accent.
-"Yes, I can understand you. Where am I?" Lydia answered, her pronunciation a bit off since she had not practiced Haran for about a year.
"You are in the Kingdom of Hylea, milady. Specifically, inside its royal palace." the man said, as he got closer and sat down at the far edge of the bed, looking at her. Hylea, it was the kingdom directly south of Fergus, her native kingdom. Far smaller than Fergus, Hylea was surrounded by 3 much larger Kingdoms on all sides except to the West, where its borders met the Western Sea. Because it was between 3 larger kingdoms, it was a very important hub for traders from all over the continent. However, Hylea was still considered rather poor, mostly because they could never properly utilize their central location. Lydia knew from her studies that anytime Hylea tried to raise tolls or taxes on goods moving through, any of the bordering kingdoms would just threaten with invasion, and so they had to back down.
"And I am Markus, the Crown Prince of Hylea." the man said, flashing Lydia a smile.
-"I am Lydia Bo-... just Lydia, your Highness." she said, choosing to forgo her family name. She was no longer her father's daughter, after all. Nor did she want to share a name with those people. Her hand gripped at the nightgown, clutching over her heart briefly, as her expression turned more solemn for a bit.
Markus, being rather attentive and entirely engulfed in her presence, naturally noticed the shift in her expression and body-language. But he still had to ask:
"You have no family name, milady?" he asked, to which Lydia shook her head. However, Markus was no idiot. The woman called Lydia was clearly noble. Her skin was pale and unblemished, her hands were soft and gentle to the touch, all signs of noble birth, for if she had toiled or worked physically for a living, it would have shown. She was also well educated, clearing speaking a language which was not her native tongue. But for whatever reason, she would not give him her surname. Could be she ran away from home. It was not unusual for women to try and escape a forced marriage, for example. But, she had washed up wearing a dress. No one runs away from home in a dress like that.
Still, Markus did not mind. She could keep her secrets. It was more fun this way, anyhow. A nice little mystery for him to solve, and something to take his mind of all other, more troublesome things. He studied her intently, his blue eyes drifting along her face. She was even prettier, now that she was awake. Blue eyes shining like jewels, just like his own, staring back at him.
Then, her stomach let out a small growl, and Lydia blushed intensely with embarrassment, hiding her face behind her hands, but Markus only laughed, smiling brightly.
"Forgive me, milady, you must be hungry. You have been asleep for two entire days." he said in response, and stood up to quickly peek outside the door. There, he gave an instruction to the maid-servant who was just outside, before Markus headed back towards Lydia on the bed.
-"Two days? No wonder I feel so... refreshed..." Lydia said softly, staring down at the bedding.
"I asked the servant to bring you a meal to your room. Would you like some company as you eat?" Markus asked.
-"I would not mind. But I probably ought to get changed, if there are other clothes? I am not presentable right now, Your Highness." Lydia responded.
Markus caught himself blushing slightly as well, as he stood up and turned around swiftly. "Of course, do forgive me, I was being thoughtless. There are clothes in the wardrobe, should probably be able to find something which fits you. I'll have a maid assist you." he said, before he marched on out.
Lydia could not help but giggle, finding his reaction to be rather cute. It reminded her of how Damien had been with her, when they first got engaged some five years ago. Her laughter faded, and as the door closed behind the prince, Lydia's expression turned dark. Any love she had once had for the Crown Prince of the Fergus Kingdom was gone, now replaced with a deep and seething hatred that seemed to have nestled its way into her heart. One way or another, she would make them all pay for their crimes. Damien, Mirabelle, Lucas, and most of all, the Grand-Duke himself, the man who was no longer her father, Gustav.
-"Just you wait..." she muttered under her breath, as the maid-servant from earlier emerged into the room, flashing Lydia a smile, at which point Lydia put on a brave face again, hiding her pain and anger behind the mask all nobles wore.
"I am here to help you get dressed, milady. Shall we?" the servant said.
-"Yes, lets." Lydia responded with a smile.