Marabella

Chapter 1. Scrubbing up

There was screaming. Chaos. Orbs of light were flying overhead smashing into the ground with the force of bombs. The light burned Bella's eyes; the acrid smell burned her nostrils and the immense noise made her head feel like it would split open. She searched desperately for a way out. Scanning the disorientated flow of people. The adrenaline made her feel dizzy and breathless. Her heart had been replaced by a hummingbird. Vaguely she felt something hot and wet on her face. Blood. She tried to walk but the ground flipped up to meet her with a jolt. The numbing cold of the paving stone beneath her cheek was the last thing she felt before being sucked into a suffocating chasm of darkness.

***
2 days previously

Basking in the cool water of the loch, Bella felt the blissful cold lapping at her pale face. The canopy of leaves above her filtered the light so it fell in ripples over the water.

She extended an arm making the leaves, ten metres above her head, shiver and sway. They were whispering to her. The magic moving in gentle waves. They seemed nervous, she thought.

"Marabella," a soft voice called from the mossy bank, "Marabella, your Father wants you."

She groaned inwardly. Soaking up the last few seconds of peace before swimming gently to her old Nanny. This couldn't be anything good. Meetings with her Father rarely were.

Hana had taken care of her for as long as she could remember, the head cook and in Bella's opinion, the best nanny in the world. The kind, warm woman had practically raised her. She stood on the bank of the loch, looking like an elderly mother hen dressed in a flowery apron.

"Thank you Hana," she said with a sigh. She pulled herself out of the water gracefully and swept her hair behind one shoulder, rivulets ran down her silvery wings making them glisten different colours in the dancing sunlight, "I suppose he wishes to speak about my so called 'duties'?" She slung the towel handed to her over her wings, her father would not be pleased if they were seen.

"I believe so Miss Marabella."

A small crease appeared between Bella's eyebrows. Hana had been strangely formal with her ever since her fifteenth birthday, when she became an adult in the eyes of the Faery laws. She made no comment however and strode across the expansive lawn in Hana's wake, dreading the impending lecture from her Father.

Hana risked a glance at her charge's sodden, white shift dress and realised with dismay - but not much surprise - that is was slightly torn in places and mud was creeping up the hem. Marabella had always had a keen sense of adventure.

As they reached the large Manor House several young maids rushed forwards to receive them, armed with towels, combs and a fresh dress. Bella sank, resigned, into a chair. She really didn't see the point in all this, she would never have quite the same 'societal acceptability' as her elder sisters, or indeed the same demure smiles and ability to have 'polite conversations'.

Sighing, she sat still, feeling faintly sick. Her Father was an imposing man at the best of times but he had always been particularly hard on his daughters. She drummed her fingers absentmindedly on her knee.

After she had been squeezed into another more suitable dress, her tangle of brown hair had been yanked at until it could be manipulated into a bun and wrapped in a silk sash which would hide it's unseemly wetness Bella was deemed fit to be seen by her Father.

Hana gave her an encouraging smile as she urged her towards the study. The heavy oak doors swung open, pulled by manservants in emerald uniforms as she entered. Bella wondered if her Father thought she hadn't noticed the extra staff he had hired over the last few months. It was no secret to the occupants of Druist Manor that Sir Cynbel Druist wanted nothing more than to impress. No doubt the imminent presence of 'high society' would mean the necessity to spend even more money on his already impressive house.

The walls were covered in ancient paintings - the Druist line going back centuries. Proud Faeries who resembled her Father stared down at her making her feel as intimidated now as they had when she was a small child.

The second she stepped inside her Father's office she felt as if the whole world stilled, as if even the air itself was afraid of moving too quickly. The room was dim and rather austere looking, but was undeniably handsome. The large mahogany desk and straight backed chairs were ornately carved with complex designs.

Though the austerity of the furniture was nothing compared to the man sitting behind the mahogany desk. His features could have been carved from a material harder than stone. Perhaps diamond. His dark hair was slightly streaked with silver but his face was not yet lined. His wings, unlike Bella's, were not gossamer thin and silver but a sheer emerald which would have complemented his green eyes had they not been hidden beneath his firmly pressed jacket. The very gaze of this man radiated power and his daughter struggled not to quake beneath it.

"Marabella." He stated with a stiff nod of the head. "Sit."

Marabella sat in an uncomfortable, high-backed chair.

"How are you?" He asked. A mere formality.

"I am very well thank you sir," she replied. Not quite truthfully, in a voice she hoped was not quavering. Trying desperately to maintain eye contact.

His piercing gaze seemed to realise this was not entirely true but he didn't bother to question her further, "I have summoned you to discuss the Summer Ball in June. I am sure you are aware it is largely being celebrated due to your becoming part of society," he spoke in a slow, deliberate voice. She couldn't miss a word.

" You're sixteenth summer must be so exciting for you," he smiled. It looked rather painful.

"Yes Sir," she was able to answer honestly this time.

"Quite," he spoke dismissively. This was clearly not the point of the conversation and Cynbel prided himself on being concise.

"In light of your possible engagement I believe that it would be wise for you to be impeccably behaved."

"Po-po-possible...... what?!" Bella gaped at him, completely forgetting proper decorum in the shock of the moment.

"Engagement girl!" Snapped Sir Druist, "You're old enough now to get married, as are your three elder sisters. I've decided now would be an.... appropriate time for you to marry."

Unsure of what to say Bella simply sat in silence.

Finally, after what seemed like a long pause she said, "But I'm only fifteen." She may be an adult now but, by law, Faeries could not marry until nineteen.

"Yes well," he was dismissive once more, "That is quite old enough to get engaged at least. This is not up for discussion Marabella. You are dismissed."

Resisting the sudden, rash urge to do a mock salute Bella rushed from the room as fast as she could walk without tripping on the hem of her irritatingly long dress.