The Rivalry

The Rivalry Chapter 3

I am Princess of the Ahmisto Kingdom in the Aeyran lands. I will someday be Queen. I am an Ahmisto and I am proud to say it, but never have I been more disappointed in my family. I am at the ceremony for my cousin Aiden Jay Ahmisto, he was killed recently by the rivalry. I cannot believe that my father continues to stand by idly as these horrors unfold. He must stop the rivalry. He says nothing will be solved by war. We need to do something to stop these horrid humans, the LeHarce, from attacking our homelands. The mere thought of that made me sick to my stomach. It has happened before - I was not yet born - but I have heard of the horrors that rained down on my people at the hands of the LeHarce.

I don't want to be here, I shouldn't be here and Aiden should still be alive. If we don't stop them, they will destroy us all if we continue on the road we are heading...of that I have no doubt.

I could feel the tears filling my eyes as I saw Aiden's father get up to speak. We were all outside the Royal burial ground. Aiden's body had been buried immediately after he was found and we were now at the ceremony. I don't know how Joshua did it; somehow he didn't show an ounce of emotion once through his speech. He didn't cry and he didn't seem to be effected by the loss of his only son in the slightest. Does the death of his son not affect him? Does the fact that another Ahmisto has been killed affect no one? Am I the only one who watches as our kingdom crumbles, slowly, Ahmisto by Ahmisto?

*****

"Mother, is this completely necessary?" I asked, feeling my mother's hands grasp the strings of my corset.

"Lynnae, turn around and stand up straight," she said, with a stern look in her eyes, impatience written across her lips.

I turned around and gripped the bed post. My breath hissing through my teeth as my mother started tugging and ripping on the strings, forcing all the air out of my lungs. The gown itself was beautiful. It was emerald green in color, satin and smooth to the touch, with beads and lace on the bodice.

"I'll send Vivian in to fix your hair," she spoke as she exited the chambers. Vivian was my personal aide. She was my favorite of all the palace workers, a pretty girl around my age, with chestnut hair and blue-grey eyes. She had a very petite frame, dainty pale skin and freckles upon her cheekbones.

Minutes later, I was standing in front of my looking glass - waist cinched, hair up in a web of intricate twists and braids leading to a pile of curls atop my head. My favorite emerald necklace was resting on my half-naked bosom and an emerald clad tiara was nestled into the cushion of dark curls.

"You look stunning, my lady."

"Thank you Viv, I don't know how you do it," I said, referring to my, as always, perfectly done hair. She smiled and left the room. I let out one shallow breath and followed suit.

I was walking down the halls of the palace, walking to meet another gentleman my mother hoped I would take a liking too. I was nineteen soon to be twenty, and needed to start thinking about suitors. So far my mother had - against my will - introduced me to three men.

The first was in his thirtieth year, at least, and a disgusting man. He was power hungry and most likely corrupt. I almost immediately dismissed him, to his very severe disliking.

The second possible suitor was not much older than myself but very intimidated by either me or my status, perhaps both. He stuttered and blushed often. He was nice and pleasing to the eye but I needed somebody who would be able to hold their own. I couldn't have somebody who would sway easily, especially with the rivalry growing bold again.

The third was in his twentieth year I would guess. He was definitely good looking but slightly daft. He had very eccentric convictions on how he would deal with the opposing forces. He would need to sharpen up on his political methods if he had any chance, which he didn't, and never would.

I needed somebody who would stand beside me, not behind me, nor in front of me. I needed somebody who would correct me when I was wrong and make me see the sense in my falsities. I needed somebody who would be strong by my side, somebody who could handle the pressure. I needed somebody who understood the situation with the LeHarce kingdom, I needed somebody who could help me, not hinder me. I wouldn't settle for anything less.

I took another shallow breath, put on my royal reserve and pushed open the doors to the sitting room.

"Hello Sir Roren, it's wonderful to see you again!" I said, slowly approaching him. I vaguely remembered him from the last coming of season ball.

"Hello, My Lady, you look absolutely stunning," he said, grasping my hand lightly, bringing it to his lips and releasing it with a shy smile on his face.

Well, he was more socially adept than the second man, who was intimidated by me. The third man was too dull to think of anything to say, let alone a formal introduction. And the first man, well, crudely put, I would have rather had rolled around in the horse stalls, before their mucking out, than let that man touch me.

"Thank you. Join me, won't you?" I said, sweeping an arm over towards the cushioned armchairs, acting as the picture of grace, gesturing that he sat. I'm sure he would sit on the floor if I suggested so.

"Why, yes," he said, taking a seat in the chair opposite mine.

I picked up my saucer and the cup of tea that the servants brought in as I entered. Cradling the cup in my hands I lifted it to my lips, taking a sip.

"So, Roren, how are things with the newcomers to combat?" I asked, knowing he was an arms trainer because mother always gave me a slight introduction to the men I would be meeting with.

"Quite well, actually. There are many talented young men out there. I dare say we will have a number of new archers coming in, surprisingly. I've noticed that most of the younger men usually like to train in swords. Although, some of them can't handle the horses when it comes to mounted combat. Learning to ride while wielding a weapon and using it effectively is a task. Some of the mounts are very stubborn, your horse, especially! And we weren't even trying to train with him; we were trying only to give him an apple. Until one of the more daring boys tried to hop on him, he was sore for a couple days after that foolish act," he said, rambling while making wild hand gestures, flailing the tea cup around, causing some of its contents to spill over the lip of the cup. I couldn't help but laugh as much as my corset would allow when he gasped and patted wildly at his leg. He didn't seem embarrassed, he only looked up at me and gave me a bright smile, obviously happy I was enjoying myself.

"Oh, that was a huge mistake on that poor boy's part. Arcadia has never been much of the social type. For some reason or another he warmed up to me when I was quite young," I said smiling, remembering the first time I rode him. I was just eleven years old, a small little girl, sitting atop this massive anatomy of pure muscle.

"Yes well, his dignity has been taken down a few notches, which is just as well," he said laughing. I took a moment to take in his features. He was very attractive with blonde hair and light brown eyes. He had a straight nose, a strong jaw, yet soft face somehow, and a gleaming white smile.

"Roren, how old are you? If you don't mind my asking."

"One and twenty."

"You must be extremely talented then, in combat, if you are training others already," I said giving him a smile.

"I'm adequate," he said smiling back, looking up at me through his eyelashes. I had severely underestimated his charm, chastising my heart as it thumped a little harder.

"More than just adequate, I am sure."

"Thank you, My Lady."

"Well, Sir Roren, I'm sorry to cut this so terribly short, but I have some business to attend to. I would like to see you again though. Is tomorrow afternoon alright? I would like to go for a ride, Cade has been sorely neglected lately and I could use the company," I said, standing up.

"Oh, thank you. I would be honored," he said, also standing. I offered him my hand.

"Until tomorrow," he said, grabbing my outstretched hand lightly and bringing it to his lips, letting it linger a little longer than is expected. He lifted his lips and I let my hand fall back to my side.

I slowly turned, breaking eye contact, and walked out of the room.

Well, maybe there is hope.

Maybe.