Ladies and Gentlemen! (Here comes the General)
The moment you've been waiting for! (Here comes the General)
The pride of THE LAKELANDS! (Here comes the General)
IRIS CYGNET!!!
Also, 2.3k views and 140 votes? When did that happen?
I entered Norta supremely pissed. Not only was I arranged to get married over LETTER, but on the plane ride to Whitefire, I had just found out that I was to be married to a random Laris Windweaver. At least my gods had spared me from marrying a Whisper, but a Windweaver was an insult to my entire country. I couldn't begin to understand why father had agreed to the terms of the marriage.
I entered the throne room with my mask of calm donned. Maven sat on a rather plain throne made of wood in the center of the dais.
"Princess Iris Cygnet of the Lakelands. It's a pleasure to meet you." Maven states, a picture of a regal king.
"King Maven Calore of Norta, Flame of the North. The pleasure is all mine. How is this marriage going to work?" I dip a curtsy. Maven stands up and walks down the dais.
"You won't see Oliver until your wedding, which will be in three days time. We want to keep some semblance of tradition before—" Maven cuts himself off, leaving me to wonder what exactly the boy king was planning. There is a slight pause before he adds "I will lead you to your rooms."
We walk through the hallways of Whitefire until we reach what I presume to be my rooms. Maven ushers me in, then closes the door. I am instantly bombarded with a trio of red servants. They are much chattier than the servants I'm used to, and I find it exhausting to try to keep up with their endless stream of questions.
"Do you prefer long dresses or short ones?"
"Prefered color eyeshadow? Blush? Lipstick?"
"Oh my god! I LOVE your tattoo!"
"Can you stop talking for one minute?" I ask through gritted teeth, my serene mask slipping. "Why are you even allowed to talk?" The three girls exchanged a bemused look.
"King Maven says we're allowed to ask the silvers questions to properly personalize their look and make it nicer." One of them pipes up. The other two giggle behind their hands, and I raise an eyebrow.
"Sorry, but he's just so dreamy," The second girl bursts out.
"And kind," The third sighs. I shudder. I have used many words to describe Maven Calore, but kind and dreamy were not one of them. How Maven felt—if he even knew—about the group of giggling fangirls working in his palace I couldn't begin to guess.
Finally, the servants left and I was left to my own thoughts. I put a picture of the benign-looking goddess on a blank space of the bookcase near my bed. That would have to be my makeshift altar. I prayed for happiness here, in this strange place. Somehow, in that period between sleep and waking, I found that I believed I could be happy. Maybe it was because of the laughing faces of the servant girls, or the inexplainable feeling of warmth I had when looking at them chatting unrestrained to each other. But I had hope that maybe life here wouldn't be so bad after all.
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Silver Mask
FanfictionThis is my version of King's Cage. What if, by killing Elara, Mare removed all of Elara's changes in other people's minds? This would mean that Maven is himself. Will he be the kind boy that Mare thought if only as the ghost? Or will he still be ev...
