I must be respectful.
I have repeated this to myself over and over again in the past hour.
My cheeks hurt so much from keeping a sweet smile on my face, even if the male I am speaking to is absolutely despicable.
ek.
I must be ek and kind. No man wants to be with a wild and untad woman. In a world like mine where won who speak freely are considered as unruly, a woman must remain quiet to be considered a prized possession.
"You have a pleasant face, child. What is your na again?"
I keep my gaze fixed on the table. I must not look in the eye of a man. It shows disrespect and anings could be read from the singular motion.
"Valka," I tell him softly.
A woman’s voice must be soft at all tis. A woman who speaks aggressively is unattractive.
No matter that I have told the old man my na four tis already, and he has forgotten it each ti.
"Stand. Let see you."
Keeping my gaze down, I tighten my fists painfully. I’m doing this only because of father. He is sick, and it won’t be long before our supplies run out.
I cannot work. Won are not allowed to work, neither are they given jobs. Our only real value is to the family we get wedded to. I must marry if I am to provide for my family.
And Beta Axel of the House Stormrider is the wisest option. His proposal ca in this morning, and of all proposals we have received, he is the richest and most capable. Should I get in his good graces, he will save my family from starvation.
These are my mother’s words. Not mine. He is an old man in his seventies. A pervert of a male with so many children and wives that we have lost count.
Sure, he’ll feed my family, but I never imagined my future to be one of a forgotten wife.
To be honest, I have never really thought of my future with any man. Taking care of my sick father everyday has beco my life. Everything else seems out of reach.
Heat flickers in his gaze at the sight of my wide hips and curves. I hate this dress. It is obscene.
But mother made wear it to catch his eyes, and so far, it is working. His tongue darts out to to wet his chapped lips and his gnarled fingers reach for .
Bile rises to my throat, and before I can either vomit or yell at him, I hear my mother’s sharp cry. An alarm. A plea.
The sound cos from the courtyard and I hear the neighing of horses. We must have visitors. Male visitors. In Silvermoor, only males can ride horses.
I start to settle back in my chair. I am not allowed to et with n unless my mother allows it. Potential grooms or mates only.
But mother’s cry grows louder and it tugs at . I flee from my father’s receiving room, following the sound of mother’s sharp cry and leaving the Beta behind.
I will no doubt get punished for this, being nothing but a re Oga, leaving a Beta of high standing behind, but family cos first for .
I find mother in the yard and my breath catches when I notice two knights in armours on horses, escorts to the Royal Herald. My mother is at his feet, crying and pleading.
The nearer I co close to them, the more I can hear.
"Eldric is unwell. He cannot fight in the war against Ebonheart. He will die! Please! You must speak to His Majesty!"
My heart slows. The war? We had been expecting this, but not so soon. Father is yet to recover. Everyone knows how brutal and dark the Kingdom of Ebonheart is. We have fought them for years, all to no avail.
I have lost my brothers in battle. All seven of my brothers have died in the war to defend Silvermoor. Every year in the past eight years, I have buried my brothers, watched my parents grieve over them and never recover from each death.
Having no more sons to give for the war, Father had headed out to fight last year. He barely returned with his life. He has been ill ever since, scarcely holding on to life anymore.
If he goes to war, he will not return.
I join my mother and throw myself at the Herald’s feet. "House Ironfang has no more n to give for this war! Please!"
The Royal Herald growls. "It is His Majesty’s order, and you will abide by it. Should you have a problem with this, take it up with him yourself. Though, I can hardly guarantee he will let you in through his gates."
I look up, snarling. "Is my father’s life a joke to you?"
The Herald’s eyes narrow. "Know your place, oga." His eyes flick over to my mother. "Your failure to teach your daughter our ways reflect poorly on you. I had been inclined to speak in your favour, but I have changed my mind. Eldric Ironfang will et the army at the converging point in the Whispering Woods at dawn on the morrow. Should he disobey the order, House Ironfang will be punished severely."
By punishnt, he ans we will be beheaded and our heads will be placed on spikes to serve as a lesson for those who deem it fit to disobey the Alpha King’s orders the next ti.
Mother sobs as she accepts the scroll and I watch her break down as the Herald and his escorts leave our ho.
"Why do you never do as I tell you to, Valka?" Mother sobs, and I reach for her, tears welling in my eyes. She flinches and I pause, lips quivering.
"Mother--"
"I had it under control."
"You didn’t!" I yell, heart breaking. "We are Ogas! The Royals do not care for us. They do not care if we die in battle. He never would have spoken to the King and you know this!"
Mother breaks down even more, sobbing. I see it in her eyes. Her despair. Her fear. Father will die at the hands of the enemy and there is nothing she can do to stop it.
I wipe the tear that slides down my cheek and stand abruptly. I lean over and take the scroll from her loose grip.
"What will you do, Valka?" Mother whispers, voice devoid of hope.
"What I can." My gaze flits back to the receiving room where Beta Axel is, no doubt fuming at my audacity. I am sure to get blackpainted after this on the wall of maidens.
If Beta Axel’s report on is bad, no one will take as a wife.
But that barely matters in the face of my father’s impending doom. So I say to Mother, "I’ll be back soon."
*********
Carriages run along the cobbled paths to the Castle. The sound of music and laughter flits across the street to where I have plunked down, watching angrily.
The Herald was right. The guards took one look at and threw out.
So, I have decided to wait.
Tomorrow, they journey out to the war front. I do not care if I have to wait till tomorrow to et soone of high standing.
Hours later and well into the revelry, one man rides out of the castle in elegant slow steps. He is silent, and his horse moves like the wind.
I have all but seen a fistful of noble n in my life, but this one possesses a grace that the others do not, and when he tilts slightly as he addresses the guards in soft whispers that I even I cannot make out, I see an emblem.
It is a silver wolf sigil, resting on his sword belt.
My heart slams into my chest and I jump from where I am sitting. Even children know that there is only one man in all of Silvermoor that has been bestowed with the honour and title of a silver wolf.
The King’s General, and he isn’t just that. He is the Crown Prince whose coronation is rely months away.
This is as lucky as I can get. I had wished to speak to soone who mattered and the universe sent the Prince my way.
When he rides through the gates, I run in the direction he is headed, and unable to slow my steps, I find myself standing in front of his galloping horse.
I scream and brace myself for its strong hooves to puml into as I fall on my rump, but he pulls the reins in ti and the horse pulls to a stop inches away from .
"Have you lost your mind?!" He roars, and my gaze lifts. The world fades and I am struck by the exquisite being before . Ethereal, magnificent, surreal, beauty, none of these words could possibly describe the man on the horse. The Prince.
Tales have been woven of the Crown Prince’s beauty, but it is hard to believe that which your eyes has not seen.
His hair, the color of burnished copper, is pulled back from his face, a few strands falling forward to caress him in a manner I find delicate for a face as striking as his.
His eyes are a srizing shade of stormy gray, constantly shifting with emotions like an ever-changing sky, and they narrow at , pinning to the spot.
His lips, a perfectly sculpted shade of dusky rose tug down into a frown that sohow makes it more inviting and sensuous.
He speaks, but I cannot hear the first thing he says, eyes roving his face that I cannot seem to get enough of. Perhaps, it is why I notice the faint jagged scar cut across his chiseled jaw, adding mystery and danger to his allure.
"Get out of my way!"
I blink, looking down from him to the scroll that has fallen from my grasp and rolled a few feet away.
"Oh!" I exclaim, crawling to grab it. "I am so sorry, but I must speak with you...your Grace!"
I grab the scroll, and stumble to my feet. "My father, Eldric Ironfang, he is unwell and unfit to fight in the war. I implore you to...take this back, Your Highness!"
His eyes grow stormier. "House Ironfang swore fealty to the throne. A male must be given for the Kingdom--"
"He will die!" I cry. "He is unable to even stand by himself."
His eyes are cold and unyielding as he observes . "Many have died defending Silvermoor. Families have perished on the battle field. n of great honour and houses have given their lives so that YOU can survive. Yet, you stand before , a peasant who doesn’t know her place, feeling entitled to what you are not owed."
The ache in my heart propels forward, and I lay on the ground before him, forehead and lips kissing the dust. "I know, I must sound selfish, but if Father dies, Mother will die with him. He is all we have left. Don’t take him from us. Please."
There is silence, and my heart races in my chest as every fragnt of my being waits on his reply that will save or doom my family.
"It makes no difference to . Get out of my way."
"Please!"
He groans, pulling at the reins and I only have enough ti to pivot out of the way before his horse can crush , and as he gallops away, I yell, "I hope one day, you understand what it ans to lose soone dear to you!"
I could have sworn he stiffened, but he didn’t stop riding, disappearing into the night like a wolf in the woods.
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