The Exiled King

“He can’t do that!”

Lirya paced around in her bedroom as her seamstresses ran after her and tried to take measurements for her wedding dress. She stopped by a fine wooden table to crush a piece of paper and rip it to shreds. It had been a note from her father, informing her of her wedding date and that seamstresses would be arriving to take her measurements.

Her wedding.

Lirya let the pieces fall to the ground and stomped over to her bed.

It was a magnificent four-poster bed built out of beautifully polished mahogany wood and silk hangings. There were plain white sheets and thin covers to accommodate the warmer climates of summer in Sanobar. The human kingdom had the most level temperatures that never ranged too far into the cold nor the warm spectrums. Summers were warm and winters were cold, but neither were extreme—just average.

She grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at one of the seamstresses, who toppled over at the unexpected barrage. Lirya was undoubtedly one of their toughest clients to deal with, but also the one who paid the most. Lord Rowan had paid a small fortune to get all of the wedding arrangements completed so soon.

I’m getting married, She thought, To that prick... that Leus of Ravenstorm. He acted all nice in front of father, but that was just a ruse and I saw right through it! Oh sure… he’s handsome. I’ll give him that, but he’s still a rotten noble. I don’t want to marry him! Father had me wrapped around his finger from the first moment I stepped into his study! Lirya thought and scowled.

“I will not marry him!” The words were out before she had realised that she had spoken them aloud.

“That would be a shame.” Leus stood by the door to her chamber. The open door to her chamber.

“I would love to get to know you,” he said before turning and leaving.

Is he just an arrogant prick or is he being like that to me?

Well… Father’s leverage is Jason, so if I can safely remove him from the dungeon and get him out of the castle, Father won’t be able to hold anything against me!

“That’s it,” she muttered and stormed out of her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She ignored the seamstresses pounding on the door and tried to think.

<--<< >>-->

In the meantime, Leus Ravenstorm was also pacing around his room, his thoughts racing.

Why did I do that? Now I’ve gone and made a fool of myself again!

He sat down on his bed and groaned, marvelling at his own ability to royally screw up.

The room he was currently situated in was a suite in the guest wing of the castle, consisting of a sitting room, bedroom and a small bathroom. It was every bit as finely decorated as Lirya’s—Lord Rowan wasted no effort in guest accommodations, as most officials and other nobles who visited Throeyns castle were either highly ranked in society or lesser nobles to be impressed by the sheer wealth that the Throeyns empire boasted. There were also expensive trinkets dotted around the room, such as vases, ornate tables, magical lamps—a most sought after and expensive item due to the loss of the mages of old, who had first crafted these—and a couple of paintings. One of those was a large portrait of the current royal family: King Aeraias Blackrose, his wife Queen Elysadora and their four children.

It was this portrait that Leus stared at, noting how the years had altered their appearances. The royal children had been good friends with Leus when they had been young children, but it had been almost ten years since Leus had seen any of them. The oldest, Adrian, had grown into a regal heir fitting of his status as the crown prince. His dull blond, nearly brown hair was a perfect mix of his father’s dark hair and his mother’s light blond hair.

Queen Elysadora’s mother had been a Ravenstorm, but had chosen to marry a lesser noble and cut most ties with the Ravenstorm house. Queen Elysadora’s subsequent marriage to King Aeraias was a political marriage intended to build stronger bonds between the Ravenstorm and Blackrose houses, but both had fallen for each other and it had ended up becoming both a marriage of convenience and love.

Princess Zaiela, the second born of the four children, had grown into a beautiful young woman and she had gotten her long dark curls from her father. The youngest child, princess Elvina, had just been a couple of years old when Leus played with the other royal siblings, but was now thirteen and had wild dark hair that reached her neck. Second prince Leyon, third born of the royal children, had been the only one to inherit his mother’s pale blond hair, as well the gift of magic that had been passed through the Ravenstorm bloodline. Few had ever been able to use the magic and neither had Elysadora, although she had carried the dormant power along and passed it to her son.

Prince Leyon had been the closest to Leus of all the royal siblings until Leus’ father had decided it was time for Leus to focus on his studies and had kept Leus in Ravenstorm castle until now.

I wonder how they are doing now, He wondered, reminiscing about past memories.

A loud knock on the door to his room interrupted his idle musings.

“My lord, your bath has been prepared,” The voice of a servant could be heard, and Leus opened the door to see a young servant boy holding a stack of towels.

“Thank you. You may go now,” Leus said, taking the towels from the boy’s outstretched hands and dismissing the boy.

He walked into the bathroom where there was, indeed, a steaming tub full of water, and shut the door. The bathroom was plainly decorated, with a large tub filling the centre of the room, towel racks lined the walls and a small basin with a mirror stood in the corner. Night had fallen and Leus lit a couple of candles in the corner to illuminate the tiny room.

Leus stacked the towels neatly on the racks and removed his belt and outer clothing. He pulled his shirt off and looked in the little mirror.

As if he was expecting to see something different.

Something other than the scars that criss crossed his back—red lines of varying depth and length, but unmistakably the marks of multiple lashes. Some were old and faded, while others were fresh and still red and raw. He turned away and looked away from the scars, as if not seeing them would make them disappear.

Leus removed his remaining clothes and folded them before finally stepping into the water. The hot water stung his fresh wounds.

If I had been born a peasant… would I have led a better life? He wondered, his fingertips grazing an old scar out of habit. An unreadable expression crossed his face and his hand dropped.

He quickly finished up his bath with a single thought going through his mind, “I have to find lady Lirya. Hopefully I can fix this mess I’ve made before it’s too late!”

<--<< >>-->

Lirya was awoken to the sound of rapid knocks on the door to her bedroom. Moments later, the door burst open and a commotion ensued.

“No… don’t! The lady is sleeping!” A frantic servant was holding back Leus Ravenstorm, who pushed and shoved at the desperate servant clinging to the young lord.

“I need to see her!” He exclaimed, pulling free from the grasp of the servant.

Is it so hard to get a good night’s sleep in this castle? Lirya thought furiously and sat up, glaring at her intruders.

“Lord Leus! It’s you again?!” She growled, recognizing his voice and white-blond hair.

Lirya threw back her covers angrily and stomped out of bed to the young lord, ignoring how the chilly evening air stung her arms and legs in her thin nightgown. Despite warm summers in Sanobar, the cold stone walls kept the castle cool during summer, chilly at night and freezing in the winter.

She walked right up to Leus and pushed him out, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Wait, Lady Lirya! I have to talk to you!” He blurted out, gripping the doorway to avoid being pushed outside the room.

She sent him a death glare and gave him a big push that sent him sprawling to the ground, “Not now, you won’t! Not ever, if I have my way!”

Lirya was about to close the doors again when Leus shouted, “Wait! I’m trying to find a way for us both to get out of this marriage!”

The doors halted their progress and Lirya’s expression had morphed from pure dislike to mild interest.

She dismissed the servant with a wave of her hand and led Leus to her sitting room, inviting him to say his piece.

“First, do I understand that you have no desire to go through with this marriage?” Leus asked.

Lirya nodded, “Absolutely not! What about you? What’s your story?”

Leus smiled, “It does not matter to me—I have no romantic interest in you. I would have gone through with it right away, except for when I saw how you despised the idea. Marrying someone who hates your guts is a sure way to pave a shortcut to the grave. Besides, I'm certain we could arrange an alliance in some other way - either through trades or something else."

Maybe he's not quite as much of a jerk as I thought he was, Lirya thought, But I do wonder why he is so indifferent. Surely his parents had some hand in arranging his marriage?

Lirya asked him that, and he replied, "Well... Yes, my father did arrange this. And I will be in for a beating if I return home having sundered the alliance, but I'm looking for a way that will benefit us both far more than an arranged marriage will. You know that nobles do not often marry out of love, but if you do not desire this, I will not pressure you into it. I... have someone back home, dear to me, but not of a status high enough that I can publicly marry."

She frowned but decided to trust Leus.

“My father is holding my friend captive in his dungeon and threatening to kill him if I don’t get married,” She revealed, “But I'm planning to get him out of there and away from Throeyns castle.”

Leus scowled and gripped the arm of the chair he was seated in.

“That’s low,” He exclaimed, “That’s underhand, filthy tactics unbecoming of a noble!”

Lirya nodded silently then Leus spoke again, in a calmer voice, “So we are in agreement. I will aid you in freeing your friend and together you and I can find a better solution for this alliance.”

Lirya agreed and they shook hands. In the middle of the night, in a dimly lit room and over a handshake, a budding acquaintanceship formed. That marked the beginning of a tentative alliance.