Selcouth

Chapter 1

Yvette Cabello had woven her dreams of love with the threads of faith, envisioning a union blessed by her God, where she would walk down the aisle in a gown of white and roses, her heart full of a love pure and Christian. That vision, so vivid and cherished, was the cornerstone of her hopes, a sanctuary in her mind where she could escape the harsh realities of her royal duties.

But on that fateful, stormy night, her sanctuary was besieged by the harsh truth. King Marcellus, her father, watched her with eyes full of sorrow and necessity as he delivered the blow that would alter the course of her life forever.

"How is your food, my child?" His voice was gentle, trying to mask the storm brewing within.

Yvette, unaware of the impending upheaval, smiled, her nod accompanied by the innocent joy of familial love. "It's well, father."

Her father's face, however, told a different tale. His eyes, usually warm with affection, now flickered with a war she couldn't yet comprehend. "Are you alright, father?" she asked, sitting upright, her intuition prickling.

"I only have a day to speak to you about this, my daughter." He sighed, a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his kingdom. Yvette's stomach twisted into knots at his tone.

"The heathens are coming, and..." He paused, his gaze locking onto hers, filled with a pain that was palpable. Marcellus loathed what he had to say, what he had to do, but his kingdom, his people, they were his responsibility, even if it meant sacrificing his daughter's heart.

"And what, father?" Yvette's voice was tense, her mind racing through every nightmare scenario.

"I have given you away for marriage."

The world around Yvette shattered. "What!" Her exclamation was a mixture of disbelief and betrayal. She stood abruptly, the chair scraping back violently, her goblet of wine spilling, a crimson stain spreading like blood across the table. "I will not, I will most certainly not!"

"You have no say, daughter." Marcellus's voice was weary, expecting the storm of her reaction.

"What do you mean I have no say? This is my life, and I shall do and say as I please. I won't be married to a filthy heathen!" Yvette's voice broke, her dreams of love disintegrating before her eyes.

"It is to better our settlements. If we allow them land and safe passage through our seas, they promised to leave our people alone."

Yvette paced, her emotions a tempest within. "Then give them that."

"They want more. They want security, and the only way I can give them that is if I give them you."

Her world spun. The betrayal felt deeper than any blade. "You would trade me for peace? Am I nothing but a pawn in your games of power?" Her voice was bitter, laced with a sorrow that cut through her usual kindness.

Marcellus stood, his heart heavy. "You are my daughter, my light. But I am a king first, with duties that I must fulfill. This marriage is not just for peace, but for your protection too. You will be a queen, Yvette. Not just a wife."

"But to a man who worships gods of violence, of conquest! How can you ask this of me, father? How can you ask me to forsake my faith, my dreams?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, each drop a testament to her crumbling hopes. Her father's decision felt like a divine punishment, a cruel twist of fate that mocked her every prayer for love and faith.

In her heart, Yvette prayed, not for acceptance, but for strength. Strength to face this new reality, to find a way to love despite the hate she felt, to protect her faith in a land of different gods. The storm outside matched the turmoil within her.