The uncontrollable power lurking beneath Princess Alethia's skin can either be the savior of the Four Kingdoms or its destruction.
Princess Alethia was raised on three principles: (1) Mercy is for the weak, (2) Emotions are an unwanted distraction...
A/N: Pictured above is how I pictured Queen Liliana. Evil looking isn't she?
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"I can't do it," Alethia hiccuped as tears flowed down her red cheeks. The brisk cold wind whipped her long hair back. She didn't turn to acknowledge the tall man approaching her from the open doorway. The wind died down, allowing the flowers to settle into place.
Roses were the only flower her mother deemed suitable for the castle gardens. Alethia hated roses; colored like blood and thorns prickly enough to draw it from her hands, a vicious enemy hiding beneath a sweet, almost sickly smell.
The man crouched down to Alethia's height, staring out at the large bed of flowers. "You remind me of dryas."
Alethia used the sleeve of her dress to wipe her eyes. She turned to the man next to her, watching as he pulled on his black beard sprinkled with strands of grey. "Dryas?"
"They only grow near the Eastern Slopes," He continued. "The mountains near the north of our land."
"Why?" Alethia questioned, resting her tiny hands on his knee as she moved in front of him. She peered inquisitively into his dark brown eyes with her bloodshot grey ones. "Is it because they're red?"
He shook his head, resting his hand softly on her head. His cheeks reddened from the cold air. "No, my little dove. They're the purest white with a bright yellow center. And even in the face of the cold climate near the Eastern Slopes, they always survive."
"I can't do it, father." Alethia's bottom lip trembled, and she bit down on it. "I can't use magic. That's why mother hates me."
His hand moved from stroking her hair to her shoulder, pulling her into a bear-crushing hug. She rested her chin on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat overtaking the sound of her hiccupping sobs. Alethia breathed in his comforting tangy smell of herbs and hay, her hands grasping the front of his green tunic.
"There's a lot more to this world than magic," He responded as he pulled Alethia away from him to look into her eyes. "The greatest mistake people tend to make is relying on it. Your mother will realize that, eventually."
"I want to be useful." Alethia turned her face to the side, frowning down at the flowers and the soil beneath them. The exact thing she was never able to command. Maybe that was the reason why her mother reprimanded her. Her lack of magic made her useless. A fact that never seemed to escape her. "I have to be useful."
Her father gripped her chin and turned her face towards him. "You have other gifts, Alethia. You aren't useless or disposable. You are my treasured, gifted daughter. Never forget that, do you understand?"
His words thawed the ice coating her heart. Tears of relief spilled out of her eyes, and Alethia jumped into her father's arms. He lifted her, carrying her in the direction of the stables.
"How about we go for a ride?"
Alethia nodded into his neck and tightened her grip. Everything was going to be okay. She could survive without magic. With him, she could survive anything.
