Beauty in a Beastly World

Prologue

My name is Trillara Florczak. I was born August 5th,1336 in Verona, Italy. My father Leo, and my mother, Laura, had six children.

I had two older sisters and three younger brothers. We were a noble family, and I grew up well. My mother was beautiful and my father was handsome. Needless to say it rubbed off. What could have gone wrong?

As is natural my mothers daughters caught the attention of suitors. One in particular was the young prince Congrande Della Scala. Son of Mastino, Ruler of Verona.

My eldest sister Katrina was already married and with child. So as is logic, with me being 14 years which is too young to marry an 18 year old prince, my second eldest sister Alessandra was offered. He was persistent that he have me, but I was still too young.

I wasn't, by far, the most attractive of my sisters. I took after my father with deep red hair, fair skin, and a slim frame. Whereas my sisters had my mothers looks. Raven hair, olive complexions, and full bodies. So my confusion was understandable when I found out he wanted me.

Tragically, in the middle of their engagement, the Black Death hit. My sister and two of my younger brothers fell victim to it. Leaving me to wed the bastard.

It was a short engagement (no doubt he was eager to get beneath my skirts). And we where soon married. Unfortunately, later in our marriage we conceived a child. You must think me a lunatic for saying that having a child is unfortunate. But for one, I was 14 and secondly, I'm a female Witch.

~

As you may or may not already know, female witches have still births. Only male witches can carry on our demon seed to the next generation. Even then, the male can only bear children with one woman, and it is only every third child that gets power. Those children look very much like the father. And every witch has powers unique to them. Although some will share occasionally.

~

Because of our failure at producing a live child, he beat me. Not uncommon or entirely unheard of in that time period. But rude nonetheless.

After our third stillbirth- he went into an outrage. He desperately wanted an heir. But I had had enough. I did something that even when I look back now, I find myself having no qualms about. I killed the bastard.

My skin turned grey and veiny as I stared at him, willing the air to rush out of his lungs, collapsing them on the way out. As he fell to the floor, I felt power rush through me which I later learned was me absorbing his life energy.

I walked over to his dead body and stared down in his face that was frozen in an expression of confusion and utter terror.

And screamed.

I screamed and screamed until the guards came rushing in to find my husband dead on the floor of our chambers.

They never suspected me. Just assumed it was a stealthy case of the plague. And being his wife I was still queen. I didn't want that. Witches typically don't appear to age past 15 unless they will themselves to. I chose not to.

Instead I went to my father and my only remaining brother. My mother having tragically fallen to the plague. And demanded answers.

He told me that he, my brother Luca, and I where witches. That's why only us two took after him in looks- and power.

He said that now that our mother was gone there was nothing left for us here. That we should leave and allow Katrina to raise her family in peace. After all; witches are no good to mortals.

So we left Verona. And ventured to Spain.

We enjoyed our time there and I watched Luca age from a seven year old little boy to a ripe 15 year old warlock.