The holy ruler

Chapter 1

anastacias point of view:
As the carriage rattled along the winding roads, Anastasia's thoughts turned to the foreboding Castle Black, a place where joy and unity seemed as elusive as a summer breeze in winter. The very mention of its name sent shivers down the spines of the kingdom's inhabitants, who whispered tales of darkness and fear. Yet, amidst these ominous thoughts, a glimmer of hope flickered, for they also recalled the presence of a beautiful princess, hidden from sight, yet radiant as a sunbeam on a cloudy day.

This princess, Anastasia, now 15 years of age, had been sequestered in France, far from the castle's gloomy shadows, to learn the art of becoming a proper wife, as decreed by her father, the king. Though her heart rebelled against the notion, she could not deny the intense animosity she felt towards the man who saw a woman's sole purpose as marital duty. Her older brother, lacking the maturity expected of his years, received favoritism, a fact that rankled her deeply.
"

As the carriage approached the drive leading to Castle Black, Anastasia's thoughts turned to her beloved handmaiden, Kara, who had been her constant companion during her time in France. With a heavy heart, she bid farewell to the gentle soul, her voice trembling with emotion. The sun cast a warm glow over the rolling hills and verdant forests of France, a stark contrast to the foreboding castle that awaited her.

"Dear kara, I shall miss your gentle guidance and warm smile," Anastasia said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Mayhap, one day, I shall return to France, and we shall stroll along the Seine once more, free from the shackles of duty and expectation." Kara's eyes brimmed with tears as she curtsied, her voice barely above a whisper. "May God watch over you, Princess. May you find happiness in the midst of darkness."

With a final glance at the charming French countryside, Anastasia settled into the carriage, its plush velvet seats and polished wooden panels a testament to her father's wealth. The carriage door closed with a soft thud, and the horses' hooves clip-clopped on the gravel drive as they began their journey to Castle Black.

As the carriage rumbled along, Anastasia gazed out the window at the passing landscape. The rolling hills gave way to dense forests, their canopies a vibrant green, and the sound of birdsong filled the air. The scent of blooming wildflowers wafted through the window, a sweet reminder of the beauty she left behind.

The carriage crossed over a babbling brook, its crystal clear waters reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Anastasia's thoughts turned to the unfamiliar land she was soon to encounter. Castle Black loomed in her mind, its imposing stone walls and towers a stark contrast to the beauty of France. She wondered what lay ahead, her heart heavy with uncertainty."

Kaya ventured a response, her voice laced with a hint of familiarity. "Oh, I daresay it shall be a truly wondrous experience, Your Highness. The court is abuzz with excitement at your return." Anastasia's gaze snapped towards Kaya, her eyes flashing with disdain.

"How dare you, Kaya," Anastasia spat, her voice low and venomous. "You, of all people, should know better than to presume familiarity with me. Your...arrangement with my father hardly grants you the privilege of sharing your opinions in my presence."

Kaya's eyes flashed with defiance, her voice rising. "And yet, I do know you, Anastasia. I know you better than you think. You're just as trapped as I am, just as much a pawn in your father's game."

Anastasia's face twisted in anger. "How dare you! You know nothing about me or my relationship with my father."

Kaya's laughter was bitter. "Oh, but I do. I know he doesn't love you, Anastasia. He never has. You're just a means to an end, a way to secure his power and legacy. He's using you, just as he's using me."