A rough knock came from his door.
"Yes?" Jovan answered, his eyes on the new map of Dracia, having incorporated large parts of west, or Aaenna.
His door opened. "Sire, I have news of Madam Myracle."
"What is it?" He asked, eyes still on the map but his teeth gritted in anticipation. If anything were to happen to her, a lot would fall apart. Even if his king hadn't demanded this of him, if they were to lose her today, Jovan would be the one to blame.
And though he wasn't scared of taking the blame, he would hate himself for letting an innocent young girl killed. And her. Not her.
"She has awakened."
Jovan's frown visibly eased, relief flushing his nerves to relaxation. He nodded stiffly, releasing a silent breath.
When the door closed behind him, he let his eyes close for a heartbeat.
He breathed deeply, set his mind and began working again, grazing his fingers against the daggers strapped to his back.
Rosaline Myracle, the feisty seer who hadn't left his thoughts for three days now, had survived a horrifying assassination attempt. But, he knew, now, that she was no simple seer. What he'd seen that night, what her power had done, wouldn't ever leave his mind.
But he had more to do than just ponder what she truly was.
The hue of green glowed in his eyes. All he needed to do right now was to find that assassin's master, and pay back.
•••••
Rosaline's eyes fluttered, her dream leaving a painfully stark memory behind her eyes. Tears slid down her temples before a wave of pain hit her head and she hissed, raising a hand to massage her head.
She remembered.
She remembered everything.
More memories began falling into place. The attack, the dagger, the whispering. Her heart sped as she jolted upright, eyes wide open. Her chest felt tight.
Julek and his words. Her sudden imprisoning two days after she'd told him about the war. That was five months ago. She'd been in that prison cell for five months and he hadn't come to meet her once! Where was he? How was he? Was Jul alive?
Another string of pain shot through her head. She groaned, holding her temples with both of her trembling hands. Flashes of days and nights, of faces, of voices. She let out a groan again, blinking through agony.
The sight of her non-bloody clothes brought her back to present, far away from the painful memories that now graced her head.
She looked around, slipping a hand around her torso, and the movement sent jitters across her body. She decided to ignore it, knowing fully well that it was the result of the events of the night when she'd almost met death.
The tall ceiling was painted in a lovely shade of beige with cornices carved into a bouquet of roses, leaves swirling around it. The room she was in was awash in similar colours. Where am I? The city?
She was tucked into a linen-sheeted bed with a black velvet comforter hugging her legs and stomach. Her bed—queen-sized with four massive posts that had sheer curtains wrapped around them—had two nightstands beside it, made of the same dark wood. There were a few vials on one of them, bandages and what looked like a turmeric salve in a marble bowl.
The room was huge, had a fireplace just in front of the bed and a double-door—closed shut—was right in between the chamber. Two chairs and a low-lying table rested in front of the fire place. On the other side of the room were glass doors and big windows, covered by beige and ivory lace curtains. Sunlight peaked through them and pooled on the white marble floor.
To her left was an attached door which probably led to the bathing chambers.
She looked down at her white nightgown, it's sleeve cut short to her elbow. A bandage was wrapped around her entire forearm, stained with a patch of mild pink and yellow. Only the Goddess knew how many injuries she'd gotten that blurry, cursed night.
The way her arm had burned, the green glint on the blade. . . she averted her gaze to the velvet comforter, burying her fingers in it as she took a deep breath to calm her heart.
If it hadn't been for Jovan, she wouldn't be here. But, where was here?
She looked around. The silent room stared back at her. She need to find him and thank him. How, she didn't know, but she needed to find him. He'll tell her where she was, he'll tell her everything. Hopefully.
Rosaline gritted her teeth and threw off her comforter. Her legs were fine. Resolve and determination clouded her mind.
She had almost died twice, had been threatened to being reduced to a slave and was now going to work for a foreign king in a realm she'd only read about. She was done waiting for answers.
Slowly pushing down her legs off the edge of the bed, and wincing as she did, she tried to find ground with her wobbly legs as she stood up.
The floor swayed, black blotches appearing in the field of her vision and Rosaline fell back on the bed, gasping as pain shot through her entire body.
"Ugh," she grunted, holding her head in her shivering hands, eyes scrunched shut. The left side of her face ached.
Whispers flooded her ears. Indistinct voices overlapping one another.
'Break the seal.'
'The Mark.'
'The Mark.'
'Break it.'
'He knows. He knows.'
A whimper left her lips, her entire body trembling as she buried her face in her shivering hands. The skin between her shoulder blades began burning, making her hiss.
Somewhere a door opened and voice called for her.
But the whispers clouded her ears.
'Break the seal.'
'He knows.'
"Rosaline." Gentle hands came around her trembling shoulders, breaking the spell of whispers, making her sob in pain. "Rosaline, calm down."
Tears ran down her cheeks, agony subsiding and dissipating into a dull throbbing.
"You're safe here," the voice cooed.
Her eyes flew open and she whipped her head to the side, instinctively pushing the person away.
Pain-filled green met hers, fear lacing them. Heldi raised her palms in surrender. "It is me. Heldi. We met in Aaenna. I am your friend." She moved away from the bed. "I mean no harm."
Rosaline groaned, nodding, massaging her aching temples with the tips of her fingers, eyes closed. "I know who you are, Heldi. Why are you acting like a stranger?" Her voice came out breathless.
Heldi's brows relaxed and a sigh rippled out of her. "Thank the Lord you remember me," she mumbled. Then she rushed to the door. "Send in the nurse, quickly please."
Rosaline shifted to face the door. "Why are you relieved that I remember? What happened? Where am I?"
Heldi walked closer to her friend, sitting at the edge of the bed and resting her too stiff shoulders against the post. "I know you have questions, and I'll answer every single one of them, but you need to tell me how you're feeling right now."
Rosaline closed her eyes for a brief second, breathing deeply. "I feel pain in my left forearm and I have a terrible headache."
"Are you hungry?"
Rosaline shook her head.
Heldi hummed. "How much do you remember?"
"The assassin. The General coming for my rescue," she replied softly. She cut out the details of the past five months. She suddenly felt if it was better not to remember anything at all.
Rosaline couldn't meet Heldi's gaze. One, for she might see the terror that resided within herself, the horror that cursed night had embedded into her. Two, she might topple over the edge of her pride and patience and ask for Jovan. Which she didn't want to, not yet, not like this.
"You were poisoned. You were out for three days." The glint of green on the killer's blade was evidence enough.
"Three days!?"
Heldi nodded grimly, not meeting her eyes. "Your forearm hurts because it was cut and poisoned, but thankfully you did not need any stitches."
What made her ponder more was the reason behind which she was attacked. Rosaline wasn't a threat to anything. She was an orphan, forgotten girl who'd stumbled upon a bargain by luck. Sheer luck.
Rosaline gulped. "Tell me everything."
Heldi sighed again, dusting inexistent dust from her sunset yellow gown. "It was a spell-poison. It meant that I couldn't do anything without the right antidote."
"You're a healer?"
Heldi shook her head. "I'm a mage."
That was somewhat expected since Heldi came from magic.
"We didn't have time to create a tonic," she explained, looking down at her fidgeting fingers. "Jovan decided to bring you to the city since you wouldn't stop convulsing. He rode the entire night to get here, reaching just on time for Sagen to get you an antidote."
Rosaline breathed again, her heart speeding up, hands filling with nerves.
The General had killed a man that night.
He'd killed someone to save her. And he didn't stop at that. He'd brought her to the city just so she could survive.
As much as she hated him, swore to never forgive him, she owed him now. He'd saved her life. Twice. In fact, he had done way more than that. No matter what he had promised to the Dracian king, no man would go to such lengths to save someone who belonged to an enemy land.
He'd given her another chance at life.
No words of gratitude could ever repay for that.
The seer cleared her throat. "Who is Sagen?
"He's the Royal Foreteller. He knew instantly what was given to you and administered the antidote." Heldi's gaze moved around the room. "But he was unsure if you'd survive the night, and even if you did, the effects of the poison are expected to last for a long time."
"What effects?" Rosaline's lower lip quivered, her skin going pale.
She had already almost lost her Sight. What more could she lose to this?
"Memory loss, depreciating health," offered Heldi when she noticed Rosaline's expression. "It can be treated, I assure you. It won't hinder to your ability."
Now she realised why Heldi had introduced herself as soon as she'd seen Rosaline.
The door to her room opened and walked in a single middle-aged woman. She wore a white gown and apron. She was holding a tray with vials upon it, a pair of new bandages and what looked like a needle.
A needle!?
Rosaline bit her lip again, shifting in her place.
"She's here to inspect your wounds," Heldi said, moving towards Rosaline. "If you can walk, it will be good for your legs."
The blonde gulped and nodded. Pushing herself to her legs, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to maintain her balance on her wobbly ankles.
She stood. When she opened her eyes, the world swayed but she remained upright and in a few heartbeats, everything settled.
"We were worried about you," Heldi confessed, grasping Rosaline's elbow to provide her the much needed support. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything that night. You were bleeding so much and I couldn't help."
"It is fine, but is that what mages do here?" Rosaline asked, genuinely curious. "Heal?"
Heldi chuckled awkwardly. "My duties as a mage exceed that of a normal one. My magic is inherited, but as you can see—" she raised a hand and pushed back strands of chestnut hair behind her ears "—I'm not a faey. My parents are human."
Rosaline tried not to stare at her ears. "Then how come you're a mage?"
She was aware that magic was passed through blood, from powerful mothers to powerful daughters, from Kings to princes, from parents to children. It sometimes jumped generations, waiting to find home in the most deserved member. Sometimes, it vanished through the bloodline without a trace.
Rosaline didn't know if her power was passed to her, or was it a curse. Her mother had died in childbirth and her father never knew what ran in her in veins. But perhaps having her parents would've lessened the burden from her shoulders. They could've helped her, taught her how to control it.
But they weren't here. Nobody was.
"My grandmother, Seline, was a True Faey," Heldi said, breaking Rosaline's reverie. "Somehow, out of all the family members, only I inherited what she had."
Rosaline nodded. "I'm sure your family is ecstatic about it."
Heldi didn't say anything.
Rosaline settled into the chair, Heldi's palms around her shoulders radiating warmth. Her entire body throbbed with pain but she held herself from weeping about it. A lot needed to be done, like firstly know how many injuries she'd sustained and how long her recovery would take.
The woman walked closer and knelt. "I must remove your dressing, Miss. It may cause pain."
Rosaline nodded, looking away to the balcony, expecting a lot of pain as the woman began unfolding the bandage around her arm.
"Heldi," The seer called, "how long till I'm fully recovered?"
Heldi's hands were firm around her shoulders, giving them a affirmative squeeze. "You're free from poison, so I think at least one to two weeks till you're fully recovered."
"Is this the...?" She was forgetting the capital's name.
Heldi, smiling softly, leaned down and nodded. Her eyes sparkled lightly.
"You'd love this place," she offered. Heldi's warm and comforting touch was gone when she elegantly trailed towards the balcony doors, flicking her open hair over her shoulder. "The markets are marvellous, and the tea shops offer some of the best sweets on the continent. Also, Kalsan silk is abundantly available."
She pulled apart the drapes, turning to flash a sunny, welcoming smile.
Fresh, warm sunlight pooled onto the marble floor. Still staring at her, Heldi raised her and twisted her finger. The balcony door behind her opened with a click. Magic, Rosaline thought, awed.
Wind blew the lace curtains aside and Rosaline braced herself for a cold blow. But it never came. Pleasant wind hit her cold skin, kissing her wounds and unbound hair. The agony in her body almost numbed into nothingness as she caught a glimpse of that bright blue sky.
"Welcome to the Argent City, Rosaline."
•••••
So, the story begins!
Love
Shirina