A Shattered Sword

Chapter 1

"Princess Eleanor?"

Eleanor turned upon hearing her lady-in-waiting's voice. Blanche stood in the doorway, her hands folded into her green velvet gown. She set down the brush she had been running through her hair and ran over to Blanche, throwing her arms around her.

Blanche smiled gently at her, but her face changed upon seeing the brush on her vanity. "Your highness, you'll blister your hands!"

Eleanor sighed. "Blanche, it's polished wood. I only held it for a few minutes."

Her soft green eyes widened. "Your arms will surely be sore! Give me that." She snatched the brush, pushed Eleanor into the chair, and started brushing.

"Ow!" She cried after a particularly aggressive brush stroke.

"Your highness," Her lady-in-waiting said in between firm strokes, "I have been appointed by your father the king to take care of you. This is my job."

"We're the same age."

Blanche stopped and stared at her in the mirror. Eleanor shut her mouth and sat still as Blanche finished brushing her hair and put it up in gold clips that shone against her dark hair.

After her hair, she was wheeled over to her closet and dressed in a formal gown. She frowned as Blanche busied herself with the buttons and ties.

"I thought I was just going to meet my father."

Eleanor yelped as Blanche tightened the back of her dress.

"I don't know. I've been ordered to send you in your formal wear." She sighed, then smiled softly. "It's probably just diplomacy. They said some foreign dignitary would be there."

Blanche fastened a chain on the back of her neck and gently led her out of her room.

Eleanor stopped in front of the massive double doors, her heart racing. Blanche smiled and quietly walked away, as she was not allowed the privilege of entering the Hall of Kings.

She stopped in front of a spot she knew provided a decent echo. "Good luck."

Eleanor nodded, too nervous to say anything. She placed her hand on the gold handle and threw the doors open. She walked quietly on the blue velvet carpet, making her way up to the throne. She curtsied low in front of her father and bowed respectfully to the man standing next to him. The dignitary.

"Respectfully, Duke Ilsen, this is not a fair trade. My daughter is a princess. Your man is a Duke. She will marry no less than a prince."

"Your majesty," Duke Ilsen said, a hint of a smirk on his face, "we are a very powerful kingdom. Sending your daughter, her being a princess, would show your support and generosity."

"Wouldn't I just appear to be desperate? Sending the first and only princess of the kingdom for this small-time alliance?" His voice was severe, but Eleanor noticed the slight tremor as he talked..

"Well, your majesty..." Duke Ilsen was visibly smiling now, but her father didn't notice, too wrapped up in his own burden and worry. "You don't have much of a choice."

~

"What?"

Charles Vycos winced upon hearing the Duke's yell. He had brushed off the worried stares when he had announced that he would deliver the duke's daily mail as he always did, thinking the noble's reaction would be reasonable. Now, looking at the Duke's murderous face, he felt the urge to kick his past self down the spiral staircase.

"Why," The Duke muttered, his words coming out quiet and clipped, "did that bastard drag me into his ludicrous alliance? Marry a Tuanian? He must be joking."

Charles cleared his throat. "My lord, she's a member of the royal family."

He scoffed and crumpled up the letter. "Royal family be damned. Kings and queens and princesses got me into this mess."

The servant gulped upon hearing such harsh language come from his mouth. "The king has decreed it. The preparations are already being made."

The Duke ran a hand through his light brown hair. "Damn them all to hell." He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

Charles waited in silence for a minute before speaking again. "My lord, what will you be replying?"

He signed the paper with a flourish before folding it and pouring wax for the seal. "I shared my excitement." He slammed the stamp on the wax more aggressively than was necessary.

"Even if what I truly feel is anything but."