Talon & Fang: Blood of Royals

Trinkets Can Make a Girl

The world is filled with cruel and disgusting creatures. But none more so than pompous nobles.

I deal with them daily, always at their beck and call. Mending their ailments with curatives and crafting potions for their bedroom problems was not how I imagined my life would be after joining the Inquisition, but this is what I have become—nothing but a slave for trivial enchantments. My eyes can see better than the average man, my hands can bend the elements of nature, and my will can control the minds of the feeble—yet here I am.

I crave adventure. My everlasting wanderlust dictates me so. But alas, the fateful day that I may finally journey towards the horizon is not today, for today is a grand occasion—the return of the Ebonhawk.

Appropriated by Queen Althia, the Ebonhawk serves as her personal detail for culling monstrous creatures that disturb the peace of her kingdom and slaughter her people. But much like I was told as a child, the monsters I should be most afraid of are the ones who walk next to me—to which many are awaiting downstairs. As I think to myself, my door opens, and a figure of a woman enters my bedchamber, her footsteps echoing throughout the stone chamber.

I pad my face with powder as I look at the young woman through the large mirror on my dresser. "What is it, Winslet?" I ask her.

The blue-eyed girl gives me a bow of courtesy. "Princess Evellie is inquiring when you will be ready, sister. She has requested your presence post haste," she says as she rubs her arm.

"I will join the flock in a few moments, and I shall also see her highnesses soon. I'm just finishing up," I tell her as I put color to my lips. "I would not want to look unpresentable in front of our guests after all."

Winslet stands awkwardly in the center of my room. She looks about, affixing her eyes on anything but myself. Her eyes go to the bed that can fit an entire family, admiring the dark velvet sheets and hanging curtains. Winslet's attention moves to the many trinkets, paintings and accouterments that decorate my walls and fill the emptiness of the room—it makes the place inviting enough, yet it has always felt cold. She finally breaks her silence.

"Will he be here today, sister? Your friend?" she asks me as she meets my gaze through the mirror.

"The captain?" I softly chuckle with a raised brow.

"Yes," she quickly answers.

I turn to Winslet and sigh with a smile. "I hope so."

I scan Winslet from head to toe. Her plain turquoise colored dress exposes her shoulders and clavicle; it drags to the carpeted stone flooring below, it is a contrast to her fiery red hair. Opposites, she and I have been since the very beginning. The way she talks, acts and looks—the antithesis of me. Her dress and hair are bright, while I wear a flowing black dress matching my dark brown hair. She wears the same hairpin I do, a mark that we are from the same coven within the Inquisition.

The only difference between us is that I have finished my training—something that I will always be proud of. I take the golden medallion on my dresser and put it on. The etchings and symbols of screaming souls on the emblem are something I will never be used to—it is much too garish for my liking, but it is a symbol an Enchantress must wear to show their status and rank within their coven.

I put away my cosmetic items into a dark aged box; its hinges squeak as I open and close it. I then get up from my seat and walk towards Winslet, my every step reverberating within my empty cold room. She grabs a sleeveless black coat with fur trims all over it and assists me in putting it on.

"What story shall my coat narrate for today's events?" I ask Winslet.

She rubs her chin and wonders. "A story of how the Ebonhawk slayed the Great Beasts?"