Silvestre Pendragon is the Princess of Camelot with a hidden secret; a gift or a curse? That's for you to decide. When a mysterious boy named Milo arrives in the kingdom Silvestre's secret is revealed, her power enhanced and her life changed forever...
It's strangely satisfying holding a blade against someones throat, observed Silvestre as she examined the quivering Prince before her. His eyes were screaming with a surprised fury and his face was a burnt crimson. Defeated, his sword lay on the grass beside him, the Prince stared at it as though disappointed in his weapon.
"Do you know who I am!?" He huffed, "I'm the Prince of Arogan! I'm a guest of the King!"
But Silvestre merely chuckled in response, "And I'm Silvestre Pendragon, daughter of the King and Princess of Camelot." Immediately the colour drained from his face as he began scramberling to his feet and scurrying across the courtyard. There was a wave of cheers and roars from the surrounding crowd as Silvestre turned to address the little girl beside her, "It's okay now, the arrogant Prince has run away. Now you must never let a selfish monster such as he, taunt you, understood?" The little girl's huge chocolate eyes glistened with admiration as she nodded and her pearly white teeth broke into a grin as she hurried off to the babble of giggling children.
The glowing orb of the sun presented a rather warm, autumn day as the crowd dispearsed into the town. Children were using sticks as swords and play fighting in the market, whilst gossiping women tutted as they sprinted down the streets. Silvestre smiled, admiring the lively city and allowing the feeling of nostalgia to sweep through her mind. Once again, Silvestre returned her attention to the hilt of her sword, where a metal dragon finished engraving itself onto its new hilt, she could have sworn it had winked at her, but sense told her that it was just a trick of the sun, then again metal doesn't usually engrave symbols into itself. Silvestre was accustomed to peculiar events, she herself was one. Royalty with the forbidden burden of magic, a hot flame of fire in her hand could easily cause her death sentence and Silvestre would mourn the loss of her dreams even if her father speared her, for magic was not welcolme in Camelot and all hopes of becoming Queen would be shattered at her feet. Before Silvestre could ponder too much on a not-yet-happend future, two guards approached her,
"My Lady, we are to escort you to the cells." One grunted.
"Whatever for?" Silvestre questioned, though she knew exactly what for.
"Assulting a guest of the King's." Silvestre was about to argue but the other guard interrupted,
"And yes My Lady, the rules do apply to you too."
Silvestre surrendered her arms and sighed, "If I must." She gave a cheeky wink to the watching children and a warm smile to the knights,
" We raised you well, Silvestre! Now you must learn to not get caught!" One laughed,
"I'll keep that in mind, Almore."
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