Snow was falling from grey clouds as a small carriage advanced slowly on the lonely road. The carriage was surrounded by war horses—their riders looking battle worn and tired. The warrior in front, who seemed to be their leader, kept looking at the sky from time to time with a frown. Then he would look at the carriage as if he could see the young woman inside of it. Ice wolves howled in the forest, and the young woman shivered because of the cold. Or perhaps she was afraid of the wild beasts. When the howling stopped, she looked out the window while she pulled her cloak tight around her. In the distance, the tall peaks of the mountains were hiding between the dark clouds. The woman opened the window, stuck a gloved hand out, caught a snowflake in her hand, and studied it until it melted. ‘The snowflakes are quite pretty,’ she thought, ‘but I wish I could see something else.’ After almost three weeks of seeing snow all the time, she had grown tired of it. She sighed as she clo
When the King didn’t close the carriage’s door, Ayla knew she was meant to follow him. She looked outside. It had stopped snowing, but the day appeared to be as grumpy as King Rhobart. She wrapped the cloak tighter around her and wondered if she could keep it once she was in the Royal Palace. Ayla still could not believe Galian had given her away as if she was worth nothing. In a blink of an eye, she went from being a princess to being a slave. She didn’t exactly have a rosy life in Myrthana, but while she was still a ‘princess’ and kept in her golden cage, there was no King of Nordmar with onyx eyes full of hatred to order her around. Not that she blamed King Rhobart. After all, it had been her father who started the war by attacking and destroying a clan from Nordmar. All the villagers were killed that day. The clan had been closer to the border with Myrthana. Since then, thirteen years have passed—thirteen years of war, pain, and death. King Rhobart lost all his family mem
After many attempts and failures, with the help of Milton, Ayla got on the horse. Her dress was not suitable for horse riding, and she had to ride sidesaddle. As Milton got on top of the other horse, Ayla gripped the saddle as hard as she could. In the forest, an ice wolf howled, and Ayla was sure her horse would start running and throw her off his back. When the horse didn’t move, Ayla prayed to Addanos, asking him to let her arrive at the Royal Castle in one piece. She tried to grip the reins, but her fingers were numb with cold. The journey and the cold had worn Ayla out. Despite the warm cloak covering her, she felt as though the endless cold had made its home in her bones. She doubted she would ever feel warm again. She shivered so badly that her entire body started hurting. “Grab the rein!” Milton instructed her. Ayla tried to do as Milton asked, but her hands wouldn’t listen to her. “I can’t grab it. My fingers are numb with cold,” Ayla said as another ice wolf ho
Somewhere between life and death, then and now, here and there, delirium and reality, nightmare and dream, whispers and more promises than Ayla could remember, phantom touches, calloused fingers, and strong hands on her skin, she slowly started feeling better. It was during the day when Ayla opened her eyes and felt like she was alive and not trapped somewhere between worlds. She was lying in a bed in a room she didn’t recognize. A fire was burning in the fireplace, and soft animal furs covered her. Ayla frowned, wondering why she was in a guest room. Slaves usually slept in the kitchen or the hallways. While she had never been good at mathematics, she thought about how much she would have to work to pay for the room. During the time she had been sick, she forgot about the war and King Rhobart, but once she opened her eyes, she remembered everything—her father trying to conquer Nordmar, her brother, but mostly she remembered King Rhobart and his black eyes full of hatred. Ayl
Ayla knew she shouldn’t waste the gift she received. If she didn’t eat the broth, it would probably be thrown away, and it would be such a waste. Besides, she was sure King Rhobart would make her pay for the dragon-root even if she didn’t eat the broth. ‘I hope the King chokes on his food and dies!’ Ayla thought. Left with no choice, Ayla ate while she told Milton about her books and her small garden. She told him how her mother and grandmother started teaching her about plants and herbs. Ayla’s mother, Queen Lavia, died when Ayla was nine years old, a month after the war began, while her grandmother died the following year, leaving her alone with her father and brother. When Ayla finished eating, she felt stronger. She wiggled her fingers, and joy filled her heart when she saw that the trembling had stopped. With each passing minute, Ayla felt better. Milton handed her a cup of tea. “Now drink this. It will help heal your body faster.” Ayla took the cup, smelled th
When Ayla finished studying herself in the mirror, she decided to inspect her new room. Given that this was her new room. It was simple but beautiful. Feminine. Apart from the bed, two white nightstands, a table with two chairs, and a mirror, there was also a wardrobe, a desk with an armchair, and an empty bookshelf. Soft rugs made from animal furs covered the stone floor. On the table, Ayla spotted a small pile of books, a bouquet of flowers, and a basket with fruits. She had never seen flowers like these; they were small, white, and delicate, and the petals were in the form of a bell. She picked the bouquet up and smelled them— the scent wasn’t familiar to her, but she loved it. She put the flowers back on the table and decided to look at the books. There were five in total, three about medicinal plants and flowers from all over the continent, and the other two contained stories and myths about the gods. “Oh, Milton! Thank you!” Ayla said, hugging one of the books to her ch
Ayla was fascinated by the bathroom. She had never seen one like that before. The stone floor was warm beneath her feet; in a corner, there was a bench, and under it, there were magical stones. She wondered what those stones did. And there was that bathtub. By Adanoss! The bathtub! It was much larger than the one she had in Myrthana, and it had magical stones on the edge that sent vibrations into her body, helping her muscles to relax. The maids led her back into the room. They helped her put on clean undergarments and long soft socks that reached her calves. Then the blue dress and a white belt around her waist. Lastly, a long cape was attached to her shoulder. She touched the dress’s fabric– it was so soft and warm. “Made from the wool of a woolly rhino. Or several of them,” a maid said. Once dressed, Ayla was forced to sit on a chair while the maids worked on her hair. She had never had a maid before to help her style her hair. It was her mother that taught Ayla how t
When Ayla thought about when she would have to serve King Rhobart's dinner, she imagined he would be eating alone. But as she entered the dining room, she saw how wrong she had been. At a long, big table, King Rhobart sat together with his paladins. Food and wine were in the middle of the table, but no one was eating. Perhaps because no servants were around to fill the plates and the goblets. Ayla sighed faintly. She hoped there would be at least one servant to help and show her how to serve the food. Back in Myrthana, she was rarely invited to eat with her family. She wished she had paid more attention to her father's servants and slaves. She prayed she would not anger the King with her lack of skills. King Rhobart and the Paladins were talking in low voices, and Ayla clenched her hands to hide her nervousness while studying them. It surprised her that King Rhobart wasn't seated at the head of the table. He was sitting in the middle of the table and talking to the Paladin