The Exiled King | ✔

Chapter 1 - Outside the Castle Walls

House Throeyns faced a problem. The current lord—Rowan Throeyns, had no male heir and only a single daughter. His brother, Siegmond Throeyns, stood in line to inherit the house if Lord Rowan had no male heir when he passed. Lord Rowan had married beneath his status when he married Aylusa Welwyn, though in doing so, he had forged connections with House Whiterose—the cousin branch of the royal house—through her mother.

Lady Aylusa had not been the same after childbirth. She'd refused to nurse the child and had been delirious and occasionally gripped by a strange madness. At least, those were the rumours that floated around high society when she withdrew from gatherings and parties entirely.

The daughter in question, Lirya Aylusa Elena Throeyns, felt her mother's absence most keenly—for Aylusa had moments of lucidity where she was loving and regretful, but just as many moments where she was not herself. The young lady was raised by an army of tutors and nursemaids—all the best that money could buy, but they could not entirely substitute for a parent's love.

When Lady Aylusa fell ill, there was a gradual shift in the household. Lord Rowan, who had at least deigned to visit his daughter from time to time, stopped visiting entirely and instead spent most of his time in the wing of the castle where Lady Aylusa lay bedridden—the wing that most servants and Lirya had since been forbidden from entering. Fear of contamination was the stated reason, but as the months passed, even the dutiful daughter had her doubts.

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On an unassuming day of an uninteresting week, Lirya was released from her studies early.

She practically ran back to her chambers to change out of her fine dress to something more plain and wash off the powders from her face. Tucked in the back of her closet was a single set of the plain tunic and leggings that squires of the castle were given, complete with a pair of boots with a little mud dried to the sole.

Lirya sat in front of a large mirror, brushing out her long auburn hair and braiding it. The reflection that looked back at her had hazel eyes and freckles dotted across her face. House Throeyns was known for having rather wavy brown hair, but so did the majority of the population of Sanobar.

I suppose I should be thankful that I don't look any different from anyone else, Lirya mused.

House Ravenstorm had predominantly platinum blonde hair—remnants of old magic in their blood, some said—and House Whiterose were known to have distinctly inky black hair, both of which were rare to see in Sanobar.

Lirya stood up and adjusted her outfit in the mirror before leaving.

Her thoughts turned to the tiny garden in the back of the castle that she spent most of her time.

I wonder if the lilies have bloomed yet...

She didn't know much about gardening, but she delighted in caring for the flowers that grew there. It was a small respite from the monotony of her daily study.

The hallway was empty, as it usually was. She made her way to one of the corner towers with a spiral staircase that was the fastest way to the back of the castle, where Lirya's tiny garden was situated.

It was a path that she knew like the back of her hand and she descended the spiral stairs quickly—perhaps too quickly, because she caught her foot on a step. Before she knew it, she was falling but moving faster than she could think, she grabbed the hand rail and twisted— slamming into the unfortunate soul who had been climbing the stairs at that moment. They both tumbled down the stairs and landed in an undignified heap.

"Ow..." She mumbled under her breath, scanning over her body to check for injuries and found that she got off lightly with only a few minor scrapes and bruising.