Prince of Fire

Chapter 1

Part 1- The Downfall of Lariz

Chapter 1

Hand in hand, Laurent and Victoria ran from the palace.

It all started early on in the day, with the celebration of their birthdays...

Music arose in the air, carried through the room on a soft breeze.

Laurent, the Crown Prince of Valhara, stood from his throne of flames and strode to the opposite end of the daise - past the leaping flames of his father's throne; the crashing waves of King Albert and Queen Kaitlyn's, Rose a little beauty on her knees.

He stopped before the Crown Princess of Lariz's throne of carved waves. Bowed low and extended a hand. Looked up beneath lowered lashes with a whispered "May I?"

Her kohl lined eyes met his, the black brightening the blue of her eyes, the tiny white ripples around the edges shining clear as day.

Victoria kept her face neutral but Laurent saw the quiver of her red painted lips. She cleared her throat and when she spoke. He nearly fell to his knees. Her voice was more beautiful than any melody, any harmony, any music he had ever heard. "It would be my pleasure, Your Grace," she said and took his hand.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her palm, the skin soft beneath his lips, before straightening. Her hand in his, he took her down the daise into the throng of dancers already spinning on the dancefloor.

Her skirts flared as he twirled her, the layers fluttering on the winter wind like a halo of pure white around them both, as bright as the light of the goddess of heaven Inana. The sleeves ran up her strong arms, over her sun kissed shoulders, covering the slender column of her throat. Everything about her was modest, innocent. Save for those blood red lips he ached to kiss.

Their feet moved to the rhythm of the music, in time with the flute and the piano and the harp. As the pace of the song picked up, so did the pace of their movements. His hand on her waist tightened; her hand on his shoulder creeped higher, fingers playing with the loose strands of his hair.

They danced and danced for what only felt like minutes, but later turned out to be hours. They waltzed and twirled through song after song, the melody taking them both to a place beyond the stone walls of the ballroom.

At last, when both their feet throbbed and ached, they halted as the last note of the piano rang out, echoing off the walls. The people of Lariz and Valhara stopped dancing, stopped breathing while they watched their future king and queen dance.

A crowd of young ladies stood at the edge of the dancefloor, arms crossed and glowering. Laurent cared little about them; the only bride he ever wanted was Victoria.

Whistles and cheers and claps rose up among the crowd, their joy shaking the walls of the palace, floating freely into the night through the glass doors opened to the night breeze and gardens beyond.

The next thing Laurent knew, they sat at a long table filled with all sorts of delights: spiced beef and turkey, venison, herring salad, roast vegetables, beverages from all kingdoms, the most delicious desserts. His stomach grumbled at the sight.

King Albert, the man who ruled his kingdom with hope and love and has become a better father to Laurent than his own father, stood and gave a toast to bless Victoria and Laurent, wishing them a successful future and joy in their next year in life. Queen Kaitlyn followed, delivering a similar speech to that of her husband. Rose hugged and kissed them both.