Royals of Ruemri Book I: Betrothal

Prologue

In the castle, skirmishes and pranks among children were not uncommon, and Raffe often engaged in playful tricks with the soldiers, like tickling their noses with feathers as they took a nap. However, Raffe was usually fair and principled. Hence, the High King couldn't fathom why Raffe, usually sensible and just, was now seething with such uncontrolled anger that he'd forsake his usual rationality and strike a smaller boy.

Raffe pointed back at the faie child. "You were messing with the dahlias!" he gasped out, his fingers twitching barely containing his anger. "Touching something you have no right to touch!"

Ah, the High King thought.

Dahlias were his late mother's favorite, especially the red ones. And the White Garden was full of them. Raffe wasn't just fond of them, he loved them. The flowers reminded him of his mother.

"I was helping them!" the young faie retorted, red-faced and eyes shining with unshed tears, his small fingers curled into fists.

"By what? By plucking them?!" Raffe seethed.

"They were dying!"

"They're fine until you plucked them from the roots, you fucking nitwit! Now they're gone!"

Thar Mal gaped at their exchange. The faie boy's eyes were glazing with tears but he was fighting it. High King Alizade hid his smile. The boy would be strong when he grew up, he was sure of it.

Soren inhaled a deep breath, squared his shoulders to look older than he was, and looked at Raffe with red-rimmed eyes. "You need to pluck the dying ones to separate them from the healthy flowers and care for them and heal them and plant them again. They were crying and begging for help when I was searching for Jiri and no one in this castle noticed them so I decided to help!"

"How can you hear them? They're plants!"

"I'm faie! You- You-" the boy sputtered. "You boob!"

High King Alizade heard the chorus of gasps from everyone who witnessed the scene and cast a look of pity on his son who was redder by the minute. It was enough humiliation. They may have been mere kids but kids with growing reputations nonetheless.

He gestured to Salav to take Raffe to his chambers, giving his son a look that promised they were going to have a long talk later. Raffe understood because he nodded and walked away without another word. And the High King turned to look at Thar Mal, who looked horrified at the moment.

"I am so sorry, your Majesty," he said as he clutched his son's shoulders protectively.

High King Alizade dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand.

"They're kids, Thar Mal. It happens sometimes."

Thar Mal's tension was visibly released by the slump of his shoulder. "Soren is a kind kid. It's just– he loses his reason when it comes to plants."

"I understand."

"It's a faie thing, your Majesty."

High King Alizade chuckled and reached down to ruffle young Soren's hair.

"Well, that obviously cannot be helped, can it?"

Soren stared at him with wide icy-blue eyes and the High King marveled at how beautiful they were. He silently hoped that his son would be able to see it, too, and see the hope lying underneath them, especially since his plan for the future of the empire involved the two of them. His eyes landed on Thar Mal and they shared the same look. The look that hoped these two young kids would be able to continue the peace and prosperity of the Ruemri Empire and the Twelve Clans in the future.

"Forgive my son for his outburst as well." He looked at Soren. "He gets real sensitive when it comes to the flowers in this garden, especially his mother's favorite dahlias. I'll send a healer to heal your wounds, young Soren, would that be okay with you?" he asked.

The faie's eyes lit up.

"I can heal them."

"You can?" the king asked, eyebrows raised.

Soren nodded eagerly and a wide grin appeared on his face.

"No, you're not," Aliya, the younger faie girl, said before Soren could say another word. "You're not a plant. You're not a dahlia. And you're not an animal either although I have my doubts. Accept the kind king's offer, So-lin, and be silent and behave."

"But I can heal them—"

"So-lin," Elefa said and cast Soren an admonishing look, "you did not fight the Crown Prince just so you can heal yourself afterward, right?" She narrowed her gaze at him. "Right?"

"I did not!" He looked up at Thar Mal. "I swear, Father, I— I didn't do it!" Soren protested, his voice tinged with urgency.

Thar Mal let out a weary sigh, muttering, "Oh, dear Aura," as he rubbed his temple, attempting to alleviate the sudden headache creeping in.

High King Alizade just laughed, amused, and gestured for them to return to the castle for a cup of tea.