A Tale of Time: The Malice of Men

Chapter 10: Beauty

This is for all those who encouraged and supported me throughout the making of this story, for all those who gave me company even though they were under no obligation to do so. Most of all,for those who love unconditionally. May you continue to do so and in your own turn, be loved. 

Special thanks to @koulini for taking the time and having the patience to create such an amazing cover page for me, supplying my limited knowledge on public opinions with her vast experience with cover making.

Also, to @MedhuReddy , who guided me through the early(and rather rough) stages of writing. Without your constant support, my stories would probably have been unheard of and forgotten in the heaps of others. Everyone has a tale to tell, but few can hope to have someone to hear them and tell them how to be heard.

To all my readers and followers, thank you. You were there.

.            Beauty is enticing, beauty is inviting.

              Beauty is the truth. Beauty is a lie.

               Beauty is informing. Beauty is deforming.

              Beauty is a hall of mirrors, a truth twisted by knaves for fools.

She was beautiful. She was truly beautiful. There was no denying it. She was the ice princess and she was clad as such. Her raiment was a fair woollen white in shades of blue. Ice was her neighbour and iron she was, yet more like to the ice was she than any iron born before her. Her eyes, were big, slender and graceful, a misty blue to melt into. Her face was fair that frost around, hid its face in the ground. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips red, red as apples, say all heads. Her form was slim, like a swan she was, yet strong as the forge she was cast in. For deep down, the ice princess was iron, Silvya Ironsborough.

 She walked through the castle like a fairy. Her fleeting feet never seemed to touch the ground. Those who saw her were glad, for she removed resentment from hearts,gave warmth to those who were cold and strength to the weary. She was a princess and heir to Ironsmouth, the castle of the Ironsboroughs, once lords and now governors of Barastar. The king had promised tthat they could retain their possessions if they chose to and the king couldn't go back on his promise without first losing his crown. Such was the royal law to which he had sworn in the presence of the Gods when he was coronated four days ago. Clearly, the King had been planning changeover before his coronation. Maybe dreaming of them before the death of Aghbard. So far, Asteryn Greatsbane proved to be an ambitious man, bringing in changes with far-reaching consequences. The people didn't mind much. As far as they were concerned, the new King was their man working and addressing their concerns. Their voices were heard and belies filled. Justice was dispensed, law and order maintained.

But now, he sought direct rule over all of Ëra. The armies of all provinces were under the direct command of the King. The last time such a thing happened, an empire had been forged on the backs of men, the giants killed and the survivors fled. Now again, one man had complete and total power. One young, inexperienced and ambitious man.

Her father would return home soon. He was, according too the message they received from the rider he sent ahead, informed after the coronation itself, along with the other Lords and Lady.

Funny woman that, Armanda Sparrow. The people of the Western Isles always had queer habits. Still, she respected her. It wasn't easy to govern. She had learnt that during her four days as regent. Her own father must have been delighted to take a break from such matters. He must have danced in joy in private. Still, when the summons came to ride to Erastir, he only nodded solemnly and expressed his assent. Kevin was a merry man, with eyes as wild as wolves and a character and body strong as iron.