The Raven of Nightshade Province

Rowan

I find myself hovering by my mother's bedside, gazing at a mere shell of the person she once was. Her once vibrant skin is now pallid and sunken. After an existence spanning millennia, the essence of her magic slowly wanes, relinquishing its grasp on her timeless beauty.

It comes as no surprise that my mother's life force is fading, as this is the way that Fae pass on so long as their life has not been cut short for outside reasons, as was the case with my father. I struggle to feel sorrow given that our relationship has never been conventional. As monarch of The Aconite Empire, her obligations to the realm have always eclipsed any personal connection to me. Her concern for me revolves solely around my adherence to royal responsibilities. I cannot fault her, particularly with the escalating tensions that grip the provinces weighing heavily upon her shoulders.

For generations, our family has dispatched emissaries to gather intelligence from each province, ensuring that we remain informed. It's a highly secretive operation, with many of our emissaries living seemingly normal lives so as to not be suspected. In recent years, the reports only seem to grow increasingly grim. The Hemlock lineage has reigned over this land for an era stretching beyond memory, and yet an aura of resistance has begun to fester, especially among the most prominent families. It seems that they are yearning for political sway, and with no chance of achieving it, they are growing restless. They hunger for corrupt influence that eludes them under our governance. My family has always been guided by principles that cannot be manipulated by wealth or power seeing as how we possess an abundance of both beyond mortal comprehension.

My impending ascension to the throne could not have arrived at a more inopportune moment. I am scarcely a century old—a mere fraction of a typical Fae lifespan. Even if the provinces did not harbor discontent toward my family's power, I would still have to endure a lengthy period of proving myself before earning genuine respect for my position. In essence, my path is fraught with challenges and trials that lie ahead.

What adds to my unease is the expectation that I take a bride before my mother's final breath. I have no objections to the idea of marriage, but as my mother withers away more each day, time slips through my fingers. I could opt for a marriage of convenience—select the fairest and wealthiest maiden in the Empire to stand at my side. It would be a favorable match, one that no rational Fae woman would decline. Yet, I cannot shake the feeling that it's wrong to wed someone in such a calculated manner, not to mention that no one desires to embark on a lengthy existence with a partner they detest or merely tolerate. Although my window of time is probably much too short to marry for love, I hope to at least find a companion who is pleasant and well-suited as the role of my Lady.

I gently press my lips to my mother's hand, bidding her farewell before departing the chamber. As I make my way towards the Grand Hall, I spot Cillian, a trusted confidant and the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. He serves my family diligently, tending to every miscellaneous request without complaint.

Towering over six feet with an impressive muscular frame, he exudes an air of intimidation, making him an invaluable asset in times of turmoil.

"Cillian, could you arrange for the editor of The Nightshade Newsletter to be present by noon?" I inquire.

"Planning to spice up the gossip column, are we?" he jests, poking fun at the section of the newsletter that shamelessly indulges the chatter of Fae women across the Empire.

"Fuck off," I reply, a playful tone lacing my words.

"Never fear," he responds, a mischievous smirk planted on his face. "I'll ensure they arrive."

A chuckle escapes my lips, knowing full well that he would go to any length to ensure their presence, whether by persuasion or more forceful means. Not that he would need to resort to the latter. The newsletter is always seeking fresh and captivating content, and a royal statement undoubtedly falls within that realm.