Moon and Shadow

CHAPTER 1

"REMEMBER TO BEHAVE YOURSELVES ONCE WE AND THE HORSES AND THE COACH STEPS OUT OF THE GATES OF OUR KEEP," WARNED THE DUKE OF TSIBEYA WITH A COLD EDGE TO HIS VOICE. His emerald eyes watched his children, contemplating their thoughts and trying to find any indications of flames of a rebellion; but at the end, he found none. Pleased, he waved his hand dismissively before his eyes stopped at his eldest two- the twins. "Remain behind," he commanded as a Duke commands his battalion. Their faces remained neutral, a perfect mask of indifference as they stood there while their siblings fled with the speed of a lightning.

Standing in front of the raging fire while the dark green and white banner of Volkov family decorated the mantelpiece of the fireplace, the Duke looked every bit of a ruthless and cold leader that he had transformed into after the death of his beloved wife. His eyes studied the pair for quite too long before he gestured to the two armchairs in the corner of his office, turning his back to his children; who dutifully moved to the chairs and sat down while sparing a strange look.

"In the capital, I wish to strike an arrangement with the King. Not only political but in terms of marriage as well." A sharp inhale drew his attention to his daughter, whose face had ashen while her brother watched her with a cautious eye. This can't be happening, Yelena thought to herself while dread filled and tightened her chest, making it hard to breath. Taking in a deep breath, she queried her father, "and?" 

Her mind reeled back to a few weeks ago when a messenger with the Double Eagle sigil had arrived with a scroll addressing the Duke. The written words had announced the demise of the Queen due to childbirth, and then, in the end was the news of the death of the only heir of the King. The boy of mere hours passed a while after his mother. The scroll was only meant for information, but the patriarch of Volkov family saw it as an opportunity to strike. And only in a matter of few days, he announced the journey to the capital, under the false pretense to discuss "policy matters of Tsibeya".

The young lady knew what this journey meant for her father. It meant a chance to offer the hand of his daughter to the Tsar, a marriage through which Tsibeya would earn political advantage and the King would benefit with a fertile wife.  

"And you shall do all that you can to be noticed by the King," he said matter-of-factly, as if the words had no weight to them; as if he hadn't decided the future of his eldest daughter without her consent. She couldn't stop the scoff that left her throat, the disapproval being voiced without any words as she nodded with her head low. Fingers fiddling, she bit into her lower lip,  glancing at her brother who remained a mere observer of the conversation. "At the end of our visit, if all goes well, you shall be betrothed to the King or best, married," the Duke added, his eyes watched the flame blaze, ignoring the tears of despair that had started to well up in his daughter's eyes.

"I also hope for Viktor to stay back in the court, to be the ambassador of Tsibeya and keep a close watch on you." That was not expected, Yelena thought as she turned to look at her brother. His face was pale with jaw clinched tightly, but he nodded nonetheless. Ever the good and obedient son, she noted to herself before a doubt entered her mind, how could father let go of his perfect son?

After all, Viktor Volkov was the eldest son of Duke Vladimir; the heir to his father and the next Duke of Tsibeya. The perfect reflection of the old duke with his sharp mind and witty yet composed demeanor.

"Now, leave," Vladimir ordered coldly, as if he was ordering his servants. And perhaps, they were in his eyes just barely above servants. Pawns in the great game he wished to play to acquire power and pave a legacy that would be remembered for ages. His children stood up quietly, bowing their heads as they rushed out of the office of their father.

The corridor was uncharacteristically empty, but it was the perfect place for Yelena to let out a sigh, allowing a single pristine tear to trail down the side of her face while she leaned into the support of the wall behind her. 'How could he do this?' She wished to ask anyone, 'to his own blood, to his first borns.' Soon, unknowing to the lady, the single tear turned into an endless stream which flowed down her tears while sobs wrecked through her body.