We, the Fairest

We, the Fairest

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, May 20, 2017
They hail her as their 'Regienne Verust,' the Fairest Queen. She is simply bewitching to behold, or so they say, with her skin as pale as snow, her hair as dark as night, and her lips as red as blood. Or at least that's what they preach in the markets at midday. It's only under the cover of night that they whisper other things; stories of poison, murder, and a vault of palm-sized glass boxes, each with a preserved heart inside that rests upon cushions of hammered velvet. But Isoleí vun Déi Wäiss hasn't the time for their idle talk. Her sole interests lie in kingdoms and power, and crowns and revenge -- especially now that the war for her inheritance has begun. After a betrayal ten years ago, Isoleí has been biding her time, preparing herself for battle against the wicked despot that sits upon her stolen throne. The war she wages is her only chance to have the vengeance she desires and become the queen she was meant to be. Yet, victory is only half of the battle for her title. Enemies linger in the deep shadows of Wulfhaven Keep and confronting them means Isoleí must be willing to uncover just how far betrayal has spread in the kingdom of Fruaërt. Determining friend from foe will be a cruel test for her judgment but then again, Isoleí has always striven to be fair.
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Violet was never meant to be her own dragon. She was created for one purpose-to kill. Her instincts were set before she even hatched-rules carved into her very being. She was built for war, trained to hunt, sharpened to kill. Queen Scarlet saw her for what she was and turned her into something unstoppable. Violet learned to fight without hesitation, to strike without mercy, to obey without question. She didn't need to think. She didn't need to choose. She only needed to follow orders. And then Scarlet fell Her instincts tell her to follow the strongest, to serve the next ruler, to find her place at their side. But her new master refuses to command her. They tell her she doesn't have to obey. They tell her she's free. But Violet was never built for freedom. Without orders, without purpose, she feels something stirring inside her-something she doesn't understand. A force clawing its way to the surface, twisting her thoughts, warping her instincts. She was made to kill. It's written into every part of her. So what happens when she's told she can't? What happens when a weapon with no target is left to decide for itself?

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