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: Dreams are truly fascinating. I actually get majority of my book ideas from dreams lol (not Serpent's Daughter though). I hope you guys enjoy this slightly mellow chapter that answers a bit of your questions up to this point. Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow <3
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She was dreaming. Alethia knew she had to be dreaming, despite the soft graze of the grass beneath her bare feet and the light breeze caressing her exposed arms. Sunlight warmed her from the inside out. Fluffy, white clouds drifted across the skies.
Alethia breathed in the crisp, fresh air. For the first time in ages, her muscles loosened as she turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings. She stood at the top of a hill, eyes widening at what she could see.
Gangly trees with dark earthy brown barks stretched high, stemming to tiny pink flowers. The trees were like nothing Alethia had ever seen. The breeze carried loose petals to the skies, some drifting above her. Alethia reached out, curiosity peaking as she grasped one of the delicate rosy leaves.
Its texture was foreign to her; the petal felt slippery and smooth like the blade of her sword. She rubbed her thumb over it, staring down at it with a contemplating frown.
"They're called cherry blossoms," a light, gentle voice said from behind her. Alethia let go of the petal, turning on her heel.
Alethia's eyes landed on the woman sitting with her back facing her. Long flowing white hair fluttered with the breeze. Beneath the woman's hair, Alethia noticed the loose, lacy pink nightgown she wore.
"Who are you?" Alethia asked, heart racing from the sudden appearance of the woman.
"Cherry blossoms used to line the trail leading to the Night Castle," she continued thoughtfully, disregarding Alethia's question.
Alethia's hand drifted to her side and pressed to her sharp hip bone. She glanced down in surprise; her sword was absent. Alethia's jaw clenched, and she took several steps back from the woman, uncertainty swarming inside of her stomach like flies.
"It was your mother's favorite time of the year." The woman's white hair brushed the ground as she tilted her head back to stare at the sky. "When they bloomed, she would spend hours gazing at them from her bedroom window."
At the subject of her mother, hatred clawed at her chest. Alethia's hands trembled with barely contained fury as memories of the trauma and abuse she went through flashed in her mind. Lips curling down in disgust, Alethia spoke in a cold, distant voice, "That woman is not my mother. I care not for the things she liked nor disliked. Who are you? Answer me."
The woman stood up slowly, the lacy, embellished hem of her nightgown pooled out on the grass. She was shorter than Alethia, not even reaching her shoulders. Alethia folded her arms as she waited for the woman to turn around and show her face.
"My name is Callistro." Petite pale hands clasped together behind the woman's back as her words drifted in the wind.
Alethia's brows furrowed in confusion at the unfamiliar name. She pressed her lips together, taking another glance around to see if there was a way out until she remembered it was a dream.
