Chapter 1:
Unwanted Princess

 

"Of course they don't realise the guest of honour isn't present." Valendria mused, as she leaned against the railing, connected to the balcony above the grand hall.
Below her, colours swirled and fluttered as guests danced along the floor. Tables lining the perimeter of the dance floor were brimming with food. Meats, vegetables, pastries; no one was left wanting. A long the wall, out of Valendria's sight was a temporary counter made of pine wood, and behind it were oaken barrels containing various types of alcohol. Two men went back and forth serving men occupying stools.

The other three walls in the grand hall were tapestries and banners depicting the history of the Country of Middloom. Wars, sickness and disasters, and how the people banded together to pull their world back up on its feet. Hanging between the tapestries, one atop the other, were the Royal Family crests of Middloom, six in total. Below were Valendria stood would be the Royal crests of Athantress, Ebonreach and Orvalis neighbours set to the West, East and South of Middloom, their prince's and princesses were also guests of Valendria's home and they all danced together below her feet.

To Valendria's right, down in the grand hall, her father King Haldren Lioranth, was sitting on his throne watching the gentry mingle and dance. The king's salt and pepper hair was brushed back, aiming to draw attention to his simple golden crown on his head. His face was set in a stern look, the ghost of a tan spread across the skin of his hands and cheeks. He wore a long, dark hunter green cape, with a dark green long coat that went to his knees. It was edged with gold embroidery, and studded with small rubies. He sparkled in both candle light and Lumacor glow.

The King glanced up at his daughter and tilted his head slightly in her direction. Valendria rolled her eyes and sighing, turning her back on the whole thing and stared at her body guard John. He stood behind her in shadows, arms crossed over his chest. Only the glow of Lumacor reached and glinted off his armour that covered him from head to toe.

"You do have to go down eventually," John's normally baritone voice was tinny with the face shield of his helmet down. He rarely lifted it even when Valendria was mad at him; she typically lifted it to stare him in the eye.

"I know," Valendria's voice was soft, almost thoughtful as she looked over her shoulder at the dancing people again. "This party was meant for me, to find a husband and here I am, left out of it completely." Smirking to herself, staring at her slipper'ed feet. "I'm the Unwanted Princess after all."

"You are not unwanted," John replied quickly, dropping his arms to his side.

Valendria grinned up at her body guard, another heavy sigh leaving her lips as she resigned herself to finally join the part below. "If only I could marry you John; a friend is better than a stranger. But law is law." Valendria pushed from the railing and headed for the stairs to her right.

Trailing on the ground, Valendria's dressed shifted from the same dark green her father wore, to an indigo blue. The bodice hugged her body, lacing up the back, as organza fabric was pleated at her shoulders. The skirt of her dress flowed like water, diamond shards cascaded down her dress clustering at the hem of gown. Around her neck a pearl necklace sparkled against her skin with a large amethyst rested against significant cleavage. John stepped in behind her, mindful of the dress's train. A dark green cape fluttered behind him, in the center was Valendria's family crest. A simplified version of their national flower, the Chromapia, flanked by some ivy was embroidered in dark thread.

 

Valendria stood beside her father as John grabbed a near by chair. Once in place, she sat down beside Haldren and leaned against the arm of his Throne, already bored.

"You're being anti-social Valen." Haldren mumbled. "You've got four suitors."

"I wasn't hiding, nothing stopping anyone from saying hi." Valendria replied barely above a whisper. "Who are they?"

"Tristan Holycut from Edron and Leontius Deeplash from Foryostis."

"Ah, the Scholar Prince and the Navel Prince," John responded from behind the pair.

Valendria grinned at him over her shoulder before looking back at the crowd. "I could live comfortable up at the Coast. I always had a love for the water." She cocked her head to the side in thought, resting her cheek on her knuckles. "Finding a man that could match or exceed my own intelligence could make for an interesting life in the shadow of Nairee's Crown."

"Tristan is most likely to think you too stupid to talk too," John droned

"John!" Haldren barked, slamming his fist against his throne.

"Apologize your Majesty." John replied quickly. "He think you too unintelligent to speak too. Leontius likely wouldn't let you near a boat, because why would the Farm princess have any sort of sea leg and like of the ocean."

Valendria looked up at her father a cheeky grin on her face as she rested her chin on her. John had a habit of echoing her own thoughts and while she felt guilty for John getting scolded for voicing them, she was at fault for encouraging it. "Who else father? You said four suitors."

Haldren glared at John a moment before regarding his daughter. "Darvion Amakiir from Aeltharaand Noctis Draevor from Ebonreach." Behind them John's armour clanked together strangely, but neither looked towards him.

"Athantress, that's the land of the Luma," Valendria leaned back into the chair, staring at her knees. "Ebonreach is where Cor comes from."

"Noctis also recently became king," Haldren supplied picking the man out from the crowd, pointing him out to Valendira.

The princess looked, trying to keep her face neutral. His face was young, his skin the colour of honey. His hair was cut short to the shoulder and was so black is had a sheen blue like black birds. What he wore was obscured by those around him, but knowing what Valendria knew of Ebonreach, he likely wore amour in strategic places and dark coloured cloths.

"To be the princess of the Ocean, or the Princess of Lumacor." Valendria sighed running her hands along her dress.

"You've already chosen?" Haldren frowned at his daughter.

"Not really, no," Valendria responded. "But of those four, Noctis and Leontius are my top choices."

Haldren nodded not saying more on the subject. "It seems most of the women have retreated to the garden. If you like you could go and dance with Noctis or Leontius, no one would likely cut in."

"I think I'll go to the garden,"

Haldren watched as his daughter left, the diamonds in her dress sparkling in the light. John did not move from his place from the wall, until Valendria had turned the corner and he trailed behind her.

 

@)==

 

Valendria stepped onto a cobblestone path that weaved around the royal garden. Off in the distance, she could hear a gaggle of hens… Sorry, a group of women chatting away in the Gazebo. She made her way around, slowly, near meditatively, stepping in the very center of each stone. Valendria looked up as a woman called out to her and waved.

"Valen! Beautiful party!"

Valendria waved back, still making her purposeful steps. This gave her a chance to switch from Sassy Daughter to Lady of Gossip. "Ladies! I'm glad to hear you've been enjoying yourselves."

"The food is immaculate as always," came one reply.

"Always the best mistrials." was another.

"I noticed a Violet Chromapia in the green house." The group went silent.

Valendria looked towards a petite woman, blonde hair gathered up about her head, giving the illusion of a bob-type hair style. She wore a pale blue dress, that showed far too much in Valendria's option. Lady Arda Wenzel if she remembered correctly, she came from Erdon, like Tristan, but they weren't related.

"Yes," Valendria's voice was pitched higher, faking over-excited happiness. "It was such a shock! It started out this beautiful yellow bud, I was convinced it was going to turn out pink. Then low and behold, it turned out violet of all things. My gardener is wracking his brain to figure out what he did."

"Are you going to sell it?" Arda asked, an obviously fake smile on her face.

"We've gotten word that the reserves for The Withering have gotten low, I'm afraid." Valendria daintily sat herself down on a bench as someone scooted over to make room for her. "So its going to go to Moryos, so the AeltharaAlchemists there can make more."

"Its wholly unfair they keep that recipe so closely graded."

"It is unfortunately, one of the only means to keep peace with them." John's tinny voice sounded behind Valendria, causing a shiver to travel up her spine. "It was an agreement, that Middloom would permit AeltharaAlchemists to set up a Collage at the boarder so they'd have access to both resources and advance their craft. It stopped Aeltharafrom invading and taking what they wanted."

All the women stopped and stared him, his armour glinting in the sunlight, the breeze ruffling his cape. His helmet still blocking his face from view. This of course launched everyone into theory crafting and political debates. Valendria smiled over her shoulder at her body guard, he just saved her from having to go into an age old explanation of why the Chromapia was unpredictable.

The Chromapia, the last gift Nairee would have received from their love Runa. It was a story that Valendria grew up on, and one day wished to pass it down to her future children. Maybe one day she'd be able to find out what happened to the rest of those near and dear to Nairee.

 

@)==
 

'Noctis, the fucking bastard' Thaldrin's thoughts nearly drove him to action. He watched as the Aerathi flirted with every woman within arms reach and across the hall.

To the uninitiated, at first glance Noctis and Thaldrin could have been brothers. Both had pin-straight blue-black hair, tanned skin and stood nearly the same height, when Thaldrin wasn't weight his boots and they were both hardened warriors. The difference between the two were simple. Thaldrin's hair was long and braided; Noctis had short hair that brushed his shoulders. Noctis's eyes were as dark as ebony hiding vertical pupils; Thaldrin's was dark green. Noctis's scales were that of copper, Thaldrin's were blue, this feature was their most distinct. Their scales covered their hands, feet, knees and elbows. Noctis had scales that went down his neck and across his shoulders. Thaldrin's scales covered his shoulders but went down his spine.

Their rivalry was reaching a fever pitch; Thaldrin would have to act fast if he was to achieve his goals before war broke out between them.

 

Now, the Princess Valendria. She was the very light to his darkness. She was beautiful from head to toe. Her dark brown hair, streaked with tones of blonde and red, was brushed straight to help with styling. Most of it was piled to the top of her head, in attempt to imitate a rose, and a few braids feel down her back almost as long as his own. He did very much prefer when her hair was left natural to wave and curl about like ivy. The blue-green shifting colour of her dress along with the dusting of diamonds made her look like a water goddess, it nearly matched the blue-green of her eyes, but her eyes were prettier than the dress. She was feisty, stubborn, smarter than any man in Faeloris would give her credit for. She was curvaceous with skin like porcelain. Would Nairee spite him, if he choose to warship the princess instead?

The moment Valendria walked from the great hall, to head for the garden, Thaldrin missed her instantly. His chest ached and he cast his eyes to the floor. He'd been pissed that he'd not gotten an invitation to this event, but he was used to it. Not many would invite him to parties and celebration and it wasn't because of Noctis. Not that he cared. If he wanted to go, he'd show up anyway. Maybe that was why he never got invited? The idea tugged at the corners of his mouth.

 

Noctis howled from across the great hall, his laughter grating on Thaldrin's nerves. He was dancing on the pine bar at the back of the hall, the men around him clapping their encouragement and he was twirling a serving woman across it like it was the dance floor. He shouted out, raised his fist in the air, before tipping the woman over and kissed her. Thaldrin rolled his eyes and slipped from the great hall, if he didn't leave now, he'd beat the bastard to an inch of his life. Valendria was never getting near him if he had anything to say about it.

 

@)==

 

The garden was beautiful as always. The sun was bright today, and a cool breeze kept the weather comfortable. The Gazebo was full of woman, looking like a bouquet of flowers in their own right. The green house was tucked away out of the main view of the garden; it was were Valendria and the garden staff experimented with soil quality to improve the calibre of crop and fruitage in Aethalgard. Thaldrin never understood why that name was stripped of the Kingdom and reduced it to 'The Green Kingdom'. It was insulting, but he'd change that, and bring back Aethalgard to his former glory.

He'd been equally surprised when a violet Chromapia bloomed just the other day. Valendria had scoured the notes the gardener had been keeping. It turned out, that the gardener had simply dumped some remaining soil together into the bucket and at some point a Chromapia seeded itself in the bucket and it had bloomed entirely on its own. Valendria was so heart-broken when they hadn't actually figured it out.

Word had been creeping up, further south than Orvalis, in a different Country, that a Withering outbreak was creeping across the land. That was why the reserves of the cure were low, and they needed more violet Chromapias soon. It seemed most of the courtly ladies weren't aware of this, but Valendria was acutely so, and was desperately trying to figure out the secret to the Violet colouring.