Niangela "Nia" de Bellmarie lived and breathe war. From the moment she could walk, they thrust a sword into her hand. She learned how to slash and slice before she learnt to read.
For three years, she has been fighting a long and tiresome war and a...
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It's all a lie.
Someone must reveal the truth.
Nia work with a start. She struggled to adjust her eyes to the brightness of the room, causing them to blur in and out.. Her heartbeat was like a drum and her breathing was difficult..
She found herself in a well-appointed room with a comfortable bed after rubbing the sleep from her eyes.. Her father was standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes full of worry.. He hurriedly went to be by her side.. "It's good to see you're finally awake," he said..
Nia's effort to speak resulted in a fit of coughs.. Someone pressed a cold metal object to her lips and cool water slide down her throat. "How--" She coughs and took a few more sips of the water. "What happened?" she finally said.
" We found you unconscious in the forest behind the camp, m'lady," replied her maid, Elise. Her face was wet and eyes puffy. She had obviously been crying. "You weren't breathing when we found you and then when His Grace touched your hand, you shot awake and then fell unconscious again. "
Nia furrowed her head in confusion. The last thing she remembered was storming into the forest after an argument with her father and then finding and touching the orange flower. "There was a flower that I touched," she said. "But I wore my gloves." She finished, her eyes furrowing in confusion.
"What are you talking about?" Her father said, his eyes roaming her face, sharp as an eagle. Any anger she felt towards him melted as he watched him check her for injuries. There he was, she thought, her warm papa. "Were there any flowers in the vicinity?" he asked, turning to look at her maid.
"No, your highness," Elise replied, quickly dipping into a curtsy.
That couldn't be. Nia distinctly remember there being a flower, she remembered donning her gloves and picking it. Then she remembered feeling light-headed and out of sorts.
"I am positive there was a bright orange flower with a red stalk. It was very unusual for that part of the forest." They watched her as though she had gone mad and Nia felt a sort of frustration rise up in her. She was a royal commander who constantly went out on scouting missions. Her observatory skills were sharp and had never failed her.
"You must have seen some weeds or something," her father retorted.
Nia chooses not to reply to him, aware that her tone would be far from polite. Her eyes flitted across the space they occupied and it was then she realised that they were not in her tent and, most definitely, not in the camp. "Where are we?" she asked.
"At Castle Zealandia in Uitvlugt, Prince Woodford has graciously extended his generosity towards us," Nia looked at her father in shock. "We couldn't allow her greatest commander to die on us now, could we?"
She wasn't sure if she was more shocked that her proud and stubborn father had willingly moved their camp for her or that he referred to his brother as gracious. Their feud was notorious.
