Two star crossed lovers.
Nations divided by blood and power.
A war to end all others.
She is heir to the brutal Darkling kingdom and daughter to the most vicious king ever known, Vlad the impaler.
He's the Demon prince ru...
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The clock ticks away in my rooms, a not-so-silent reminder. I stand at the center of my chambers, watching as Iskra and a few other maids stuff and fold clothing into my luggage chests, indicating what to leave or take. They had already pulled white sheets over the furniture and paintings and ornaments, until the whole place now looked haunted. They knew I would never come back, and if I did, it would be as a visitor and this room would never be mine again.
It was still early morning by the time Mikhail appeared, a stack of books in his arms. It was my red haired maid that acknowledge the captain first, though I had no doubt he noticed the apprehension that settled itself in my body the moment I felt him coming from the hallway.
He greeted the maids and set the books on a nearby desk, that ghostly white fabric over it, before bowing at me.
"We'll be ready soon, Captain." I say, maintaining focus on the maids' steady work.
"Good," He responds, his voice cold yet enticing. I still dont look at him, and instead inspect my heavy layered, lavender dress, long sleeved and it's bodice fashioned to resemble a coat collar. The short, inky leather boots at my feet are sturdy and sensible, perfect for the travel ahead. "Were you going to leave without saying good-bye?"
"I thought it would be better that way," I answer. In two hours time, we'll be journeying to Indris Quay, our final stop. From there, a ship voyage to Northa, that land of ice and monsters, a kingdom of myths and nightmare made flesh. There was no point in saying farewell to him; my heart had long since done that.
Mikhail dares a step. "Would you ladies please give us a moment?"
My maids stand at attention, all veering their ayes to me in expectance. I give them a slight nod and they diligently take their leave. All except Iskra. She remains, now taking a spot at the far left corner of my bedchamber.
The captain levies a look at her for a moment longer, catching sight of my maid's missing limb. He swallows, hard, and then takes a few more steps towards me, running a hand through his chocolate, silky hair. "This plan is madness. The whole treaty is ludicrous. You don't have to go. I can talk to my father, make him convince the King of another way. If you go to the North, you'll never return-"
"Marriage is a binding sort of thing, yes."
"Viktorya, There will be no help for you," Mikhail says, diminishing the distance between us. "If you are hurt, if you are ill-treated, you are beyond our reach; beyond mine! You will be entirely on your own."
"My safety hasn't been left to chance. It's all well arranged, Captain."
"House Orel?" He huffs, a mocking tone about it. "They cannot protect you! They couldn't even protect their queen-"
