Princess of Darkness Read online

  Neither Saff nor Adelaide wanted to admit it, even if it was meant to be a compliment but, they thought the Princess’ knowledge of the common tongue was quite impressive. Although her accent was thick, she spoke clearly and with great proficiency. Her father must have expected such an alliance at one point, it seemed like she had been learning the language for sometime. They kept in mind that those from the east usually kept themselves in the east. So this alliance between Illia, Aarengoth and Anderaith, it had come unexpectedly to say the least.

  Saff gave the Princess a bow and when he straightened himself up, he placed a hand on the small of Adelaide’s back. “We wouldn’t want to impede on your preparation for tomorrow. We should all be well rested and I think our state of being is not doing anyone any favours.” he said.

  Adelaide nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. Although she knew she could really do with a wash. “You’re going to make a beautiful bride, Dominika. It’s nice to have another woman in this family again, there are only so many scheming men I can take around me.” she teased, sending both Viktor and Saff laughing.

  “Oh, yes.” Dominika began, “Don’t you worry, Adelaide. We can show them both how it’s really done.” she replied.

  Adelaide could not help but smile at that. Ah, she liked Dominika. She liked her a lot, and the thought of Viktor marrying an eastern princess annoying Marcus Valenti of all people pleased her immensely. He had murdered Hathor, he had robbed her and her brothers of both a father and Emperor.

  Now, it was time to start a new dynasty. One that would have Marcus turning in his grave once he was finally dead and buried.

  Viktor

  Today was the day. Today was the day Viktor Redbane, first born of the Redbane children and the crowned prince of Aarengoth and Anderaith, was to be made Emperor; and Dominika Urveed of Illia, his Empress.

  The grand hall of Fort Windspeed looked immaculate. White curtains lined the pillars on either side of the hall, vines and white daisies wrapped around them to add a truly elegant look. Urns filled with white roses and exotic orange chrysanthemums mingled in both colour and scent. A heavy chandelier made of crystal had been lit up as the centre piece. It threw wild specks of colour across the floor and ceiling and running up the pillars. And this was all just for the ceremony! The banquet afterwards would no doubt be more spectacular.

  As a Princess from the east, Dominika would wear a traditional Illian robe. However, her fiancé had politely asked if she could incorporate a part of the western tradition of bridal wear through her choice of colour – either white, gold, cream or silver. Dominika had not minded at all.

  Viktor himself looked splendid. He wore a white tunic with threads of real gold embroided on the ends of the sleeves, his collar and the bottom of his tunic. Cream whorls had also been etched into the tunic, along with solid gold buttons on both the sleeves and collar as well. Today, the Emperor wore gold breeches and white boots to make him look the part of a groom.

  He scratched at his newly trimmed beard whilst looking over the crowd he now stood before; as anxious as they were to lay eyes on the bride and future Empress of Iradas. Viktor began to shift his weight from one heel to another and then decided it was improper behaviour. He couldn’t appear nervous – he was the Emperor! He had to make a good and lasting impression.

  A flute playing to a sudden steady beat of a drum, somewhere at the back of the hall, had the crowd turning to watch Princess Dominika as she finally emerged from her hiding space and the ceremony officially began. Viktor tried to get a better view of his bride but, there were too many people within the hall to see Dominika clearly. He gave his collar a gentle tug and used the crowds diverted attention as an opportunity to suck in some air. The young Empress of Iradas looked beautiful and most of the people within the hall agreed; however, some wriggled their noses at her and whispered words of insult at the foreign Princess. Dominika didn’t doubt there were some people who hated the idea of a foreigner on their throne but, she had had as much of a say in this marriage as they had.

  Dominika wore a beautiful robe of white satin. It trailed after her as she walked. A thick golden sash had been tied around her waist, to keep it all in place, and beneath it a simple golden gown peered out from past the sleeves and around her chest.

  The crowd was stunned into silence.

  Viktor, even more so. He clasped his hands behind his back and straightened himself up, it was a brave attempt to steady his nerves.

  There finally came more whispers from the crowds as they watched the wedding procession go on. As Dominika walked, the sound of tiny bells rattled beneath her robes, the anklets she wore dancing as she moved. Most of all, the markings on her hands and feet were visible – the marks of a married woman. She approached Viktor with care and allowed him to take her hand and help her up the steps, just before their thrones.

  A contract had to be signed before the ceremony was officially allowed to begin, a formal document which would act as solid proof of the marriage. The crowd watched in silence, a few women even tearing up at the sight of the Emperor and Princess scribbling their names down onto the thick scroll. The political side of the wedding was done, now all that remained was the religious, symbolic aspect – swearing to love and protect each other and drinking a horrible wine which, of course, no one admitted didn’t taste right.

  All the while, Saff and Adelaide stood at the very front of the crowds, before a bench of their own. They watched with swelling pride as their brother was finally married. Adelaide had tears in her eyes and Saff could not contain a tremendous smile. Their expressions were all that Viktor needed to regain some confidence in himself and this marriage.

  “We are gathered here today,” a boisterous priest chosen by Viktor’s council began. “To bear witness to the union of the Emperor of Iradas, Viktor Redbane, and the Princess of Illia, Dominika Urveed.” he paused again to clear his throat.

  Both Emperor and Empress were handed a splendid golden chalice filled with bittersweet wine and the priest wrapped a white sash around their hands, as they clutched the cup. Viktor took a sip from the cup first, as instructed, and his lovely bride followed afterwards. Once they had taken their share, the cup was removed from their sight and the sash only tightened around their hands, bringing the couple closer together.

  Dominika gave her husband a small smile as they clutched each other’s hands tightly.

  With raised arms, the priest spoke again. “With the gods as my witness, I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  Viktor leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Dominika’s lips, sending the young Empress blushing, and a deafening cheer erupted from the crowd. It was done. Viktor had finally married.

  *****

  The feast following the ceremony was the true centre piece of any wedding. Food, wine and music; dancing too, it was no secret that the castle could get rowdy on such an occasion. Guards on duty were allowed a drink or two and no more, so they didn’t feel like they were missing out on any of the fun, and if they still got too tipsy, then they simply alternated between those who were drunk and those who still had their senses about them.

  The Emperor and Empress of Iradas sat overlooking the joyous celebration. With his hand over hers, Viktor couldn’t help but smile as he looked at his young wife and found her beaming back. Saff and Adelaide sat on the Emperor’s right side, whilst his wife sat on his left. They had toasted to their brother, Saff had given a speech fuelled with pride and brotherly love, rather than too much alcohol. This was not just any wedding, even now the Redbanes had to be careful with what they said and did.

  “I’ve always wanted to know how you westerners celebrated.” the Empress began and her husband leaned closer to hear her better.

  “Do you do it differently in the east?” Viktor asked.

  A jester caught Dominika’s attention as he blew at a torch, sending fire shooting into the air. The Empress applauded him loudly and she laughed all the while. She even gave the jester a bow of her head when
he blushed and gave her a dramatic bow in appreciation. “I don’t think your castle would have any space for elephants. The courtyards back at home are twice the size of this hall and we have those beautiful creatures walking around, with people on their backs either juggling or blowing fire from torches just like your jester. Best of all, the people who walk on tightropes, the acrobats.” she paused to look back at the entertainers, jesters and dancers alike, and both she and her husband took a moment to applaud them. “I’d been looking forward to meeting your brother and sister for so long. Adelaide Redbane really is the most beautiful woman in Iradas – I think we’ll both get along wonderfully.” Dominika continued.

  Viktor placed a hand over his wife’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Last time I checked, the Empress is always supposed to be the most beautiful woman in Iradas. I don’t think that’s changed at all.” he replied.

  Dominika blushed. “How many people are actually happy to see a foreign Princess on the throne? I hadn’t expected everyone to be so accepting of it, although it’s strange, it’s not as though it is unheard of.” she said.

  Viktor emptied his cup of wine and didn’t shy away when a servant came and offered him a refill. He blinked hard at his young wife. “Do you mind that I’m drinking?” he asked, before answering her question.

  Dominika retrieved her own glass of wine and clinked it against his. “Alcohol is permitted on special occasions – or in secret but, don’t tell anyone that.” she earned a laugh from the Emperor.

  “The thing that commoners don’t understand is politics, no matter how hard they try to. Alliances are formed by foreign marriages of course. There’s no point in marrying someone who you are already allied with.” Viktor explained.

  Dominika placed her cup down and steadied her elbow onto the arm of the chair, twisting her body until it was angled towards Viktor, and she propped her chin up with a fist. “So what am I to you then? A wife first, or a means for an alliance with Illia?”

  Viktor covered his eyes with his hands. “Ah, both. Through marriage we’ve officially made Illia a part of The Allied Kingdoms but, we’ve also ensured our family lines will carry on. I wouldn’t place my trust in any woman other than my wife to help me with that.”

  Dominika straightened herself up and she stared at her husband a moment longer. Before she turned to face the excitement of the wedding again, she said with a half-smile, “I think we’ll get along just fine, you and I.”

  Viktor raised his cup at her. “To a fruitful marriage.” he toasted.

  “To a happy marriage.” Dominika added in.

  For the rest of the evening, all thoughts of the war outside the Fort walls and the Valentis were forgotten. Tonight was a time of celebration and for one night only, the war could finally be put aside.

  Valerius

  It seemed Valerius had not been aware of how quickly the seasons had gone by, not until the Winter Fest arrived and drilled into his mind that winter was almost over already. When put like that, he felt strangely depressed. There was something Valerius loved about winter, yet he couldn't quite understand what.

  The festivities didn't fail to cheer everyone up.

  Valerius sat on his throne at the head of the grand hall, a smile on his face, and he watched as the castle inhabitants pranced around joyfully to the musicians tunes, all dressed in white. Valerius himself wore navy breeches tucked into black boots and a white shirt and waistcoat accompanied his outfit. Around his throat he also wore a black bow tie and his hair had been brushed back smoothly. Aderico and Marcus wore the same. It was considered traditional attire; however it varied each year, only slightly.

  The Grand Lord and Lady sat beside each other, smiling down on the castle inhabitants as they danced around the hall and grew merry on wine. It was no coincidence Marcus had chosen to hold the Winter Festival a few days earlier; he needed something to get his mind off the fact that the blasted boy, Viktor Redbane, had married earlier this week. He had been so furious upon hearing the news.

  An empty chair remained amongst the Valentis. It belonged to the only person who had still not arrived - Serendipity. She was nowhere to be seen.

  Alexandria leaned closer to Marcus. “Where is Serendipity?” she asked him over the noise.

  Marcus simply shrugged and kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

  Valerius took it upon himself to scan the crowds in search of the Princess and he too failed to find her. Aderico and Kalyani had already begun to call out a conversation to each other, whilst both his mother and father were locked in one of their own. But it was Soraya who broke all conversations with one loud gasp of awe. Serendipity approached the others with care and she smiled weakly as people bowed down low to her as she passed. Valerius’ eyes widened at the sight of her. The girl looked so different from when he had first seen her in the camp outside Anderaith, as though she was a whole new person.

  The Princess looked stunning. Her wild curls had been plaited and hung over one side, a white dress streaked with silver covered her delicately pale body and the sleeves sloped off her shoulders and trailed down past her wrists. Her dress went tight at her waist before loosening gracefully down to the floor and she even wore a crown, the elegant silver headdress sat comfortably just above her forehead and it twisted into a smooth pattern of entwined vines with tiny crystals situated in a few gaps of the crown.

  Aderico watched as his cousin stared at her. He felt a pang of jealousy rip through him; he didn’t want to care but, a part of him felt childish enough to stand up and yell out that Serendipity was his fiancée, not Valerius’. No, he didn’t care – or at least, he was trying so hard not to.

  Valerius hardly seemed to notice his cousin as he made his move. Rising from his seat, he descended the platform on which he sat and stopped before the Princess.

  Serendipity smiled kindly at him. “You're staring, Valerius.” she said.

  The young Lord tilted his head to the side. “You didn't tell me you were going to look this beautiful.”

  “I didn't want to lie.” Serendipity replied.

  Valerius chuckled at that. Taking her by the hand, he led Serendipity to her throne in stunned silence. The Grand Lady of Valkenn watched with a bright smile, however, her kind gaze didn’t manage to persuade Marcus enough to feel the same way.

  “It's a festival Marcus, cheer up.” Serendipity said to him behind clenched teeth as she took her seat. Her eyes did not meet his. Aderico's eyebrows rose in shock at her tone but, as usual, Serendipity didn't care.

  Marcus clicked his tongue. “I'm as cheerful as I possibly can be, despite the current situation of you seducing my son. Right in front of your fiancé, not to mention.” he replied quietly.

  Serendipity's eyes shot towards the Lord and she let out a low, threatening growl. “Careful who you accuse, Marcus. Don't you dare think that I'm doing such a thing,” she began.

  “Actually, it's quite the opposite. I'm pursuing her.” Valerius cut in, a smile spreading lightly across his face as he looked to his father; Marcus’ face already red.

  A lively dance had sprung up during the private argument and the Valentis’ turned their attention towards the excited castle inhabitants, who jumped around in circles, stomping and clapping their hands to the music.

  Marcus rose from his seat, gave his wife a bow, and quickly hauled Serendipity to her feet. “I'd be honoured for a dance.” he said to her sweetly.

  “How about no?” Serendipity replied, only to be dragged off and into the crowds, despite her blunt answer.

  Aderico sat up in his seat, his gaze darting around the hall in an attempt to find Serendipity and Marcus amongst the chaos. No such luck.

  “Where did Uncle Marcus take Serendipity?” Soraya asked over the noise and Aderico found her sitting up in her own seat.

  Aderico shrugged casually and even managed a smile. “Never mind them, they've just gone off to dance.” he said, yet even he didn't sound convinced. It was Marcus after all, one could never expect anything wi
th him. Soraya didn't seem to notice her brothers uneasiness and sat back down in her seat again.

  Valerius watched the crowds with a straight face but, inside his chest his heart was beating against his skin to the point of pain and he clutched the arms of his chair in silent agony.

  From a distance Marcus stalked through the crowds and towards his seat again. His cheek was pink and his jaw was locked. Serendipity had slapped him, of course. What for? Marcus found his place on his throne again. He didn't say a word. The others remained silent around them. They all waited for him to speak, too afraid to break his delicate sense of calm.

  Marcus still didn't say anything to anyone.

  Alexandria placed her hand over her husband’s and smiled kindly. “Marcus, my sweet,” she began.

  Marcus ripped his hand from hers. “There’s too much noise. I need some air.” he muttered under his breath and stormed out of the hall, leaving his family to stare in disbelief at his sudden harshness.

  Viktor

  It was quiet in the Emperor and Empresses chambers, a blessing after such a busy day. The room looked so different to Viktor, all of a sudden. It used to belong to his parents and now, it belonged him and his own wife. The entire bed had been replaced, to avoid the Emperor any shame of sleeping on the same mattress or amongst the same sheets as his father and mother but, the rest was still the same. It was all he had left of his parents and Viktor, quite frankly, didn’t want to get rid of anything else. It was all sentimental to him. He needed another drink first before he consummated his marriage. It had been an enjoyable night but, now it was strictly business. He stood leaning against one of the bedposts, staring down at the bed freshly prepared for him and his new wife.

  Behind the dressing screen in the far corner of the room, Dominika was being helped out of her bridal robe. When she emerged again, the Empress was dressed in a splendid robe of plain gold. She did not see a need in such impressive designs for the consummation.