Goddess Child of the Gods' of Justice

Careful What You Wish For

**A/N- Hey guys, kinda got stuck on latest chapter of sb&al thanks to my word document crashing so typed this up on the phone last night and finished today. This is the fantasy/romance story I told you guys I was wanting to write a few months ago. Not sure how many of my fans will check this out, but those who do, thanks so much and newest chap of sb&al will be out either tonight or tomorrow.

Pronunciation:  Guildie = Gill-Dee-Ayy  ,  Lantieel = Lan-Tee-Yell

<3 Krysti

 The monotony of my life had me wishing for more. I’d have liked to have known the motto, “careful what you wish for.” Maybe that would have made me appreciate my dull life just a little bit more, long less for excitement and adventure. Maybe it would have saved my life and that of those I care for… But I’m getting ahead of myself; let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

  My daily day-to-day schedule, never changing, of etiquette tutoring and such 'befitting a young woman of my stature' was getting old. All my lessons have been drilled into me, both in theory and in practice. I've known my future, what it holds, what it entails, since I first learned to speak. Second oldest child to the King and Queen of Verinion, I will one day be wed off to a faceless stranger, the highest bidder if you will, and of course without a say in it myself. Though… If I were to have a say, it truly wouldn't matter. Why? The one I wish to spend ever more with, just so happens to be my elder sister Cassandra's betrothed. His name is Mika Johanson, and he is the youngest ever leader of my father’s army. Younger then my ‘dearest’ sister by eleven months, 19 on the edge of 20, he is my dearest friend, confidante, and the one I will love all my life. Not that he will ever know that.

  All the thoughts begin to get to me as I sit curled up upon my window seat. Instead of fretting about the unfairness of my life, I'm supposed to be practicing my calligraphy. It’s fairly easy work, thanks to having learned from an early age. Being 17 in three days, means I've been practicing for ten whole years. I have lessons on calligraphy, history, and reading every other day; with math, etiquette, and a few others between days. Sundays are always for craft and reflection. Once I become the obedient little wife, maids and manservants will serve my husbands’ needs, while I work on my chosen craft, stitching; when not on the arm of my wedded like an adornment at social gatherings that is.

  There I go again. Wondering and pondering on things I’m unable to change. Glancing slyly out of the corner of my eye, I can see that my tutor, Mrs. Hannigan, is busy writing a letter. Probably to her secret lover, I think humorously and must use all my decorum training to not burst into peals of laughter. She is a kind woman, she really is, but by no means is she a looker. She is Heavy set, auburn hair perfectly coifed and streaked with gray. She has more chins then the local baker who, understandably, has a quite a few as he samples all this wares. Her face is lined with wrinkles of all kinds, from frowning, laughing, and more. She has been a widow the past fifteen odd years, once married to a nobleman in my fathers’ court, a dear friend and advisor to him. I was too young to truly remember him, but when I do think of him it seems I remember a throaty rugged voice laughing joyously in my head. Apparently, I adored him greatly; he was an honorary god-father of sorts. Mrs. Hannigan is also an honorary god-mother to Cassandra. Her younger sister Ms. Blakely, who teaches my etiquette lessons, is like a god-mother to my youngest sibling Jonathan. I could honestly care less for my sister but Jonathan is truly a shining star to my dull days. Only 18months old and he is as exuberant as a new pup. Cassandra and I take after my father more so then our mother, while Jonathan is mothers’ spitting image. Cass and I both have flowing golden hair and deep green eyes (being at the age of 21, she is about 3 inches taller than my 5’5 frame), while Jon has his stunning blue eyes and chocolate colored hair. Him and mother are very special to me. Though mother goes along with what father says, I know she wishes she could give me what I want. Though I, like her, know my place. We are not allowed our own wishes, and must follow and do as we are told by our husbands.