Valerian's Vengeance

Chapter Two :Decisions or Delusions

  I would like to dedicate this chapter to the very talented word-warrior! Please check out this author's profile!

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There isn't a whole lot more to my life than my history. Pretty sad, really. I get along with pretty much everyone. Although my Uncle Klegg and my stepmother Jonna have had me feeling a little on edge lately. It's just a feeling, nothing concrete actually. Yet it feels as though they are constantly tossing looks my way, the up to no good type of looks. The knowing someone is watching you, talking about you, you turn to find it's true!

  But they always seem to fall silent when I look at them. The silence has suddenly become so terribly loud! I know that's not possible, yet it has become a reality in my current existence. The silence is truly screaming! I think at moments I have gone mad! Yet it's only around them.

   I know Jonna doesn't think too fondly of me. I am not her child, Just a constant reminder of my dead mother. And if Jonna had her way, I too would have been lost on that fateful day! But she knows that is one line not to cross. Never bad-mouth my mother or me in front of my father!

My Father isn't a cruel man. He doesn't purposefully hurt Jonna with memories of my mother. It can't be helped she is revered as a hero amongst our people! She saved not just the King that day, but Jonna as well! And The Blessed Deities only know how many others! And he was known to have been with my mother prior to his marriage. I know originally that my birth wasn't celebratory in the Kingdom. But I wasn't hated. It wasn't unusual for children to be born out of wedlock amongst royalty, they were just part of life, I guess. Not treated badly, but raised by their mothers in decent cottages and took decent care of. Unfortunately for Jonna, things worked out a bit differently.

  I was but a toddler when the attack occurred. As my mother obviously had no family to care for me,
several well to do families offered me a place to live. And Jonna had figured that would be the outcome as well.

  But to the surprise of many, especially to the Queen Jonna, my father felt it was only right to show the  proper respect to my mother by naming her most important item in the realm - me, royalty! Thus, I became a Princess. Most of the citizens saw no wrong with the decision. Not after the sacrifice my mother made for our Kingdom. A few felt only a child born to a royal mother and father should have the opportunity to one day reign upon the throne.

  And in the early months of my time as Princess Valerian Icemantle, Jonna didn't seem to actually dislike me. It was as if she cared neither goodly or poorly as far as I was concerned. She definitely didn't take to feeling a nurturing role towards me. She had a bevy of nannies to care for me and a few had children to be my playmates, so she had little contact with me. During that early period I saw little of my father either. She kept him busy with parties and trips and what she felt was her time to enjoy her King, his wealth and to show off her beauty while young and in the highest female position in the Kingdom.

  Jonna was lovely in the way that full blood Frost Giants considered beauty. Tall and muscular yet fit, with a large bust and wide hips and a small waist. Born to battle, there was nothing delicate about the women. The race that ruled the Keep were slightly different looking than the other Frost Giants tribes in the Frozen Realms. No one really knew why, but it must have been from genetics obviously. While the other tribes had hair that remained somewhat solid or frozen like, in shades of white or blue hues.Their Eyes were always blue or golden. We were different.

   My people from my father's race, retained regular hair. Mostly in bluish or purplish colours and eyes came in a plethora of shades. Our race was a bit leaner, too. No less powerful though due to a taller height and better agility. The other Frosts were a bit shorter and stocky in their build. But please don't misunderstand me, they were still our people, our family.

   But I digress from my point, forgive me! Jonna was above average I suppose. She always wore a gown of silver shiny fabric that showed off her curves, her light teal hair intricately designed in an upsweep, as to show off all of the many jewels she so enjoyed parading about in. Her eyes looked like silver chips, with sparks of lightest blue to black. Her nose was long, straight and narrow. Her face was roundish, and when her plump lips smiled, her severe face transformed from elegant and serious to a child's face almost! Plump cheeks showed deep dimples, her eyes seemed to grow wider, rather than narrow like most individuals did! And her laugh was truly priceless! Like a song of bells would pour forth to the delight of all!

  After about a year or so after I was made a into a Princess, things began to change quite alot with Jonna however. She stopped laughing, she stopped the parties and dancing. She still wore the silver dress and jewels, but had taken to also wearing an enormous white fur coat that trailed a few feet behind her. It was the fur of a Fluergrond. They were very big and ferocious beasts that were rarely ever seen in the tundra. They were very easily camouflaged in the surrounding region anyway, but only a handful had ever been defeated in the few confrontations over the ages. The meat was delicious and the coat was lovely. Queen Jonna never took it off in front of anyone, except my father and her personal maids.

  It was at this time I began noticing that she didn't seem to like me at all anymore. Whereas before she basically ignored me, but if she did make contact with me, she was pleasant enough. Never overly demonstrative with her affections or especially kind to me, she was never mean or short with me. That started to change though.

   She almost went out of her way to find a reason to scold me or would just look at me with an unusual look. One of disdain. At that young age, I thought I had done something to disappoint her. Now I know that I did!

  I was born to his fertile and much revered mistress, while it was beginning to appear that Queen Jonna was seemingly unable to conceive an heir to the throne after some years of attempting. That was my crime at that young age. Being born!

   And as I grew older, Jonna grew more bitter. She was outright hateful to me when there were no witnesses. Then one dreary day when I guess that I was probably around nine or so years old, my Uncle
happened upon Jonna grasping me by my upper arms, shaking me for some fabricated reason to punish me. She quickly stopped, a look of fear flashed across those silvery eyes as she stepped backwards, nearly tripping on the train of her fur. But to her surprise as well as mine, my Uncle Klegg put his large hands upon her only to steady her and ask if she were alright! As she nodded in shock, he looked at me with a venomous glare, turning on his heel, telling Jonna to carry on with disciplining the "annoying little bastard!"

   I knew then and there that I was hated by the cold Queen and now my Uncle as well. Even at my young age, I knew that only one person loved me. My dear Father. Many people liked me, some merely tolerated me. But the encounter with my Uncle Klegg and the now spiteful Queen Jonna was my first absolute acknowledgement that those two hated me!

  Even as young as I was, I was perfectly aware that I would have to watch my back very carefully when it came to those two! They could and would hurt me if the chance presented itself. And it was up to me to make sure that it never did!