Entangled

Chapter 1

I first met Lord Murugan when I was thirteen years old when he visited my father in our palace. It was rare for him to ever leave his territory, especially to come to our kingdom since, despite being at peace our lands were neither allies nor friendly. We were closer to neighbors who tolerated each other.
I walked beside my father as he spoke to the young man, who at the time seemed to me like an adult, bragging about our lands, our people and what great things my father had achieved. Lord Murugan was tall and dark with golden eyes like honey. And I'd notice how he'd play with a ball of golden dust that he'd transform into various shapes while listened to my father's lecture.
When he realized I caught him and that I too was growing bored, he summoned, with the flick of his wrist and golden dust, a white flower with a yellow centre which he tucked behind my ear. He smiled at me and I felt like I was struck by an invisible force, like lightning, which was somehow numbing and electric all at once. At that moment, as intensely as it would be possible for someone so young, I fell in love.
Which even then I knew was a bad idea. Not because he was much older but because he was a Faery. Powerful, dangerous and beautiful but not one who you could trust.

I met him again one year later, when I was fourteen and had convinced myself that I was not in love with him. He was exactly as I remembered him but somehow more fantastical. He seemed to glow and move on the ground with the grace of a bird in the air.
When he greeted me my heart leapt and it felt lightheaded. I don't know why I reacted so extremely. He greeted my parents, the ministers and all my siblings who were present as well. Yet, I was convinced that the way he spoke to me was different than it was for everyone else. That year, he made me another flower, this time a pink cup shaped flower. Lord Murugan, whispered it was a Tulip and didn't grow here. Like the flower from before, rather than wilting it would, after several weeks collapse into golden dust and then fade away.

When I was fifteen it was not one but six bright yellow trumpet shaped flowers. I was too scared to ask any of my siblings if they too received any gifts, too scared to know that they too received gifts and that mine weren't special.

When I was sixteen he gifted me a golden bangle, which unlike the flowers did not fade or fall apart. I wore it every day for a year, but in my seventeenth year he did not visit our palace. Instead my father was invited to the forest, which at the time was unheard of. No one was allowed into the Katharagama forest.

At the time, I was so hurt I didn't wear the bangle anymore. I loved him so much it was painful. It was, I know now, all a fantasy. A few gifts and kind words didn't mean he loved me in the same way, yet I had convinced myself we were both in love.

So today, nearly a year since then, when my father asked if I would like to accompany him to Lord Murugan's forest I said no.