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SAPHIRA
The Inner Keep, Castle Renatus
ONE HOUR BEFORE...
From the tallest tower in the castle, Saphira rested her head on the windowsill and dangled her arm out, swirling her hand through the crisp morning air. Her fingertips tingled, but it was more than just the chill of the icy wind; tiny threads of magic stung her skin.
She pulled at the threads, gathering the cool moisture in the air. Concentrating, she willed the water to freeze into delicate icicles, but the droplets resisted, sliding down her fingers before dripping onto the wards protecting her tower. Hmm, Saphira noted blithely, Better than last time, at least.
The sharp clunk of a key turning in the lock made her release the magic. The remnants of ice vanished before they could fall to the courtyard below.
"Get away from the window, girl!" Matron Helena's voice snapped through the quiet morning as she locked the tower door behind her. She strode over, slamming the window shut. "I should have the metalsmith put a lock on this one, too."
Saphira did not bother to rise. She lay on the stone floor, feeling its coolness beneath her, and stared up at the wooden beams overhead. "If the window is locked, how will I get fresh air?"
"You'll invite nightspawn in, hanging out of the tower like that." Helena loomed over her, blocking her view of the ceiling.
"Good," Saphira muttered, shifting her gaze to a minuscule crack in the stone wall. "At least a nightspawn would provide interesting conversation."
Helena gasped and bent down to smack Saphira's knuckles.
Saphira went limp, letting her arm flop back to the floor.
"Idle talk does not behoove the daughter of a Duke." Helena straightened, adjusting her apron with dignity. "My brother fights against Golgog to protect us."
Saphira pulled herself upright, shaking warmth back into her fingers. "Golgog? That's the latest spawnlord's name?"
Helena turned her head too late to hide the flush rising to her wrinkled cheeks. "Now, show me the progress you made yesterday on your embroideryâ"
"How large is his spawn? How many attacks have there beenâ"
"Enough!" Helena huffed. "I shall tell His Grace of this."
"Then I shall tell my father you've been filling my thoughts with talk of Golgog."
"Go ahead, child," Helena dismissed. "Perhaps he'll give you another three weeks up here for idle talk."
Saphira exhaled dramatically and flopped onto her bed. "If you don't let me out, I'll simply kill myself."
"Be sure to try while the window has no lock," Helena retorted, folding the blankets near the fireplace. She picked up the books scattered on the rug, clicking her tongue in disapproval as she flicked through the pages. "There's no need to fill your mind with philosophy. Why not read more of Everflame or Lady du Clairmont? I hear Lady Reed is an avid fan. It will give you two something to talk about." Helena paused, waiting for a response.
She ran her wrinkling fingers over a Lord Locke's The Burden of Command. The Matron's voice softened, "This life is not your fate, Lady Saphira. You will only set yourself up for disappointment."
"I may be stuck here," Saphira murmured, looking out to the distant green fields beyond the walls of Renatus. "But there is no reason my mind must be also."
Helena sighed, her breath heavy with resignation. "Well, you'll be happy to hear that his Grace has decided to end your punishment earlyâagainst my advice, I add."
Saphira's head shot up, and she laughed with excitement. "You could have said that first. Is there any chance I can get my tincturesâ"
"No," Helena warned, shelving Saphira's books.
"But they're only tinctures, there is no magicâ"
"For the last time, no magic!" She approached Saphira and grasped her hand. Saphira braced herself, but instead, Helena squeezed her hand with near fondness. "Magic is a corruption, an abomination. Corruption draws in more corruptionâand with your blood being nobleânightspawn would swarm upon Renatus."
"If magic is so bad, then the Duke should outlaw it."
"We need magic, butâ" Helena exhaled heavily, her lips twitching as though she nearly smiled. "No. You're not drawing me into another argument. If you need entertainment, finish your calligraphy."
"I already live as magicians doâaloneâso I may as well have magic to amuse me," Saphira muttered, staring at the cobwebs in the rafters.
"Magic is not for your amusement," Helena scoffed, straightening the velvet blanket. "His Grace does what is necessary to keep you safe. Nightspawn hunger for noble blood."
Her voice softened as she traced Saphira's half-finished embroidery. "You are twenty years old. Any day now, you could marry. Your husband will want his lady to be uncorrupted, not chased by nightspawn." A plea entered her tone. "Please...stop this nonsense. There are already whispers. Don't let them become rumours."
"Father will never marry me off, not while I'm still his heir," Saphira retorted. "So, you'll be stuck with me for a while yet."
Shaking her head, Helena picked up the embroidery hoop with a disappointed tsk. "Let's hope his Grace never asks to see your stitches. You could at least try to make them even. You know how much he delights to see you succeed in the feminine arts."
Saphira pushed the embroidery hoop aside. She swung her legs against the side of the bed, creating a lazy rhythm that brought a scowl to Helen's lips. Saphira smiled, saying, "So, why has my esteemed father decided to release me from my prison term?"
"Stop that infernal banging, child." Helena sighed, "His Grace holding a full court today."
Saphira said flatly, "I can hardly contain my excitement."
"Be grateful. He's had a new dress made for you, child." Helena turned her head over her shoulder and called, "Ginny, where are you?"
As Ginny's steps echoed up the tower stairwell, Saphira lay back, watching the cobwebs sway in the breeze. She heard the maid huffing as she entered, rustling fabric in her arms. Ginny entered, flushed with excitement, clutching the gown as if it were spun from moonlight itself. Her strawberry blonde hair brushed into a tight bun. "Oh, my Lady, it's the most exquisite thing! Lookâgold filigree on the bodice, real pearls stitched into the sleeves, and the way the light catches the silkâ"
Saphira did not even glance at it. She lay back, arms folded behind her head, staring at the ceiling.
Ginny lowered the gown slightly. "You're not even going to look?"
Saphira let out a slow sigh. "Why? It's not for me. It's for my father. For the court. For the illusion." She looked at the veil hanging over her mirror, knowing it would soon cover her face. "I could have two noses and three eyes, and no one would notice under the veil. It's not about what I want."
Ginny let out a snort.
Helena clipped her over the ear. "It pleases His Grace to see you dressed as a princess," she snapped. "Now, I must ensure your seating in the hall is prepared properly. Ginny will get you ready." She narrowed her eyes at the maid. "If I catch you two making idle talk, I'll take the strap to both of you."
She bustled away, locking the tower door behind her.
As her footsteps faded, Ginny grinned, showing the gap in between her two front teeth. "Oh, Saphira, a full court! This is so exciting!"
Saphira rolled to her side and yawned. "It better be, Ginny. I'm so bored I'd rather nightspawn pull me limb from limb than sit here for another day. What's the news from around the castle?"
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"You know I'm not supposed to do any idle chattering," Ginny sniffed, leading Saphira over to the mirror.
"That's never stopped you before." Saphira smirked. "You know, in this castle, you're just about the only person my age I get to talk to alone. There's always someone else listening."
She turned toward the window, her gaze flicking to the scurrying figures below. Despite the heat of summer, washerwomen frantically yanked linens off the lines, stable boys shovelled dung with urgency, and Renatii soldiersâtoo clean, too polishedâpatrolled in tight formations, sweating from heat and stress. A full court doesn't explain this level of tension.
Biting her lip, Ginny removed the moonstone comb that secured Saphira's hair. Pale violet locks cascaded down, and Saphira grimaced as Ginny gathered the strands. She hesitated. "I think I've done you and your sister's hair a thousand times, and it never ceases to amaze me. You should have seen Celestine's last nightâ"
Saphira stiffened. "Celestine is back from the King's Court?"
Ginny's hands faltered, and the comb slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the floor. She scrambled to retrieve it. "It was nothing, my Lady," she squeaked. "Just a small meal."
Saphira kept her expression neutral. "When did she return?"
Ginny hesitated, her sky blue gaze falling to the ground.
Saphira exhaled, forcing lightness into her tone. "Come now, Ginny, I won't scold you for sharing harmless news." She tilted her head, watching Ginny's reflection in the mirror. "When did Celestine arrive?"
"...Two days ago, from Lux." Ginny's voice was barely above a whisper. "Please don't tell anyone I told you."
Saphira studied her own reflection as if searching for cracks. Pale lavender waves caught the morning light, the colour striking yet subdued. Her deep violet eyes, flecked with gold, stared backâthoughtful, expressive, impossible to harden. High cheekbones, a curved nose bridge, full lipsâa face meant for quiet smiles, not fiery beauty. Celestine had always been the one to draw poets to their knees.
Saphira shrugged. "Then surely you must know whom she dined with."
Ginny picked up a string of pink pearls, threading them carefully through Saphira's hair. "You heard the Matron. If I gossip, I get the strap."
"It's not gossiping," Saphira sighed, dabbing a small amount of powdered pink clay onto her cheeks. "It's far more interesting than listening to Count Reed give his trade report." She added in a voice mimicking the Matron, "It pleases Duke Crassus that his daughter morphs slowly into an ornamental statue."
Ginny reined in a snort. "You'll be locked in here until you're eighty if you're not careful. And that will make me seventy-fiveâfar too old to climb these stairs with your sweetrolls."
"I don't even like sweetrolls."
"You consume them by the dozen when you're on your moonblood! The whole kitchen knowsâsweetrolls, butter pudding, strawberry shortbreadâ"
"I didn't tell you about the nightspawn in my closet?" Saphira smirked. "He craves those sweets."
As Ginny twisted and tugged at her hair, Saphira's gaze drifted back to the window. The courtyard felt more suffocating than usual. The last time she had stepped beyond the castle walls, she had been a girl. Now, even the ramparts were being scrubbed, and from the highest watchtower, the watchmen were signalling below.
She narrowed her eyes, reading their hand signals. Seven men approached. Their hand movementsâdeliberate, calculatedâspoke in the silent language of warriors. She smiled smugly. They don't know I understand a little of their Renatii battle language.
"It's about them, isn't it?" she mused aloud. "The seven men approaching?"
Ginny's hands froze.
That was all the confirmation Saphira needed [https://img.wattpad.com/b7965fe37024f02ef1e49bd2e6eb98d0b7fa338a/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f68557732594566464679716d57673d3d2d313535303233313230362e313834393237303034383064646437613835383932383439353736302e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
That was all the confirmation Saphira needed. Slowly, she reached outânot physically, but with the invisible threads of energy that tethered her to the world, to the people she spoke with. She had felt them before, whisper-thin, growing stronger with each conversation. Carefully, she pulled on them, letting her voice smooth into silk.
"It'll stay between us," she murmured in a velvety voice, imbued with magic. "Tell me who they are."
Ginny sucked in a breath. She leaned in, voice trembling with excitement. "All seven Mountain Knights are here! They say the Ashen Knight himself is here to slay Golgog."
Saphira's heart lurched. "Lord Nocturne of Firestone?" she whispered, barely daring to say the name of the knight immortalised by every bard across the continent.
Ginny nodded eagerly. "Andâ" She hesitated, but Saphira saw the telltale flush on her cheeks. Ginny bit her lip, then whispered, "When I went to pick up your dress today, I saw itâa wedding dress, ready to wear."
Saphira went still.
Ginny rushed on. "The hour your sister returned, his Grace went with her to dine privately with the Ashen Knight. They say Lord Nocturne was most charmed by your sister!"
Saphira's hands trembled as she opened her vial of pink lip dye. Celestine. Engaged. Before me.
Lord Nocturne is merely a Count, she reasoned, swiping colour over her lips with deliberate slowness. A Duke's daughter should marry someone of equal standing. Saphira's heart lurched as she recalled the tales of his deeds. And yet...
"They call him the Ashen Knight. All say he's very handsome," Ginny murmured, cheeks pink. "And he's richer than the king."
Saphira's lips parted slightly. Firestone fief borders our territory, but it is King Edwin's domainâand the King made Lord Nocturne a count. She shook her head. Does father mean to bring Firestone under Renatii control through marriage?
"That's not enough, not for father," Saphira murmured. She quickly pulled on the energy in the air, speaking again in a voice of smooth velvet. "Tell me, what is the reason for all this? Unions like this take years, not days."
Ginny barely hesitated. "The Duke...he has vowed that the man who can slay Golgog will receive gold and his daughter's hand in marriage."
Saphira exhaled. "This must be no ordinary spawnlord."
"It's dire, my Lady. No one has been able to stand against Golgog." Ginny shivered andâagainâdropped the comb. "I don't know what got into me, Saphira. I'll be in so much trouble ifâ" She steadied herself. "You must promise not to tell the Matron."
"I won't breathe a word," Saphira said, smugly dabbing her neck and wrists with oil from the rowanberry. The strong scent smelt as spicy as pepper and as thick as frankincenseâand it repelled nightspawn. Saphira wiped the stinging tears away from her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup.
At least Celestine will be free. She swallowed hard, willing her expression not to waver.
Father has no trueborn sons, and he has not legitimised any of his bastards. As it stands, I am his heir. Her grip tightened around the vial. Not that he would ever let me inherit.
Saphira blinked rapidly, forcing away the moisture. He will let me rot in this tower before he lets me do anything with my life. I'll never get to travel, study, or marry. I'll never get to be a mother.
Ginny finished pinning Saphira's hair up and hiding her hair away in a sheer veil. Saphira stripped down to her underlinens, and followed Ginny's instructions, bending and twisting her limbs to fit herself into the beaded dress without tearing the priceless gown. The samite weighed heavy from the crystal beads sewn into the pale lavender fabric.
Far too hot for this heat, Saphira thought, Such a thick gown can only be worn if I do not exert myself.
Standing still in front of the mirror, Saphira stated, "I look so pale that a ghoul might think me their own." She stepped into her gilded slippers. "What colour did Celestine get? Let me guessâthe same."
"You're lucky to wear such beautiful dresses," Ginny said, gently pulling Saphira away from the mirror.
Ginny drew Saphira's veil over her head, obscuring her face and her violet hair. She took Saphira's hand and placed on it rings of crystalith set in white gold, and on her wrist, bracelets cut from a single stone of crystalith. The stone, extracted only in her father's mines, did not repel nightspawn as rowanberries did but made the terrible creatures ignore the wearer.
As Saphira stepped over the threshold of her room, she felt her mind begin to slowly break free from the fog that slowly accumulated. Ginny held the train of Saphira's dress, helping her navigate down the cool, windowless stairway to the foot of the castle. At the door, Saphira traced her ward into the wood of the door. Outside, the knight traced his ward into the other side and the door swung open.
"Lovely day today, is it not?" Saphira chirped, she laughed in reply to herself and said, "Oh stop it, you're all spoiling me with your conversation."
Lips pressed tightly shut, a pair of knights walked in front of Saphira and two more walked behind herâthe remaining pair stayed guarding her door. They walked through the stone hallways, their clever design keeping them cool in the summer. Amongst the full-scale portraits of her ancestors, she passed enormous dreadspawn horns, vilefly wings, and even a dragon's tooth. Rich tapestries which were once a part of the royal treasury, lined the walls and windows of stained glass casting pleasing patterns of Renatii purple and gold over the stone.
"How's the cow, David? Has she calved?" Saphira asked. She called all the knights David and made up a make-believe life for her fictional character. Saphira added knowingly, "I'm sorry to hear that the calf died. Perhaps you could trade some of your wife's preserves for another mating with Farmer Winston's stud? I mean the bull, not his sonâthere are too many red-headed bastards wandering the village already."
Behind her, Ginny suppressed a giggle.
Summer heat and light flooded into the passageway; Saphira followed the guards into the courtyard. As they walked, the castle folkâfrom the servant boy to the visiting nobility, drew back and bowed. As they waited to enter the Grand Hall of the Ancients, Saphira swept passed them and entered through the small door, leaving her entourage behind.
Inside in cool of her father's room, Saphira saw the map of the continent laid out on his war table. Alone, she hurried over to see the pieces in place. She quickly located her home, Renatus where large purple statues were surrounded by grey coloured piecesâthe Ashen Blades. Since she was a little girl, her father had forced her to sit silently through endless diplomatic meetings, battle reports, and trade negotiations. Now, Saphira knew she had a firm grip on the general politics of the continent.
I'm the only heir who never gets to speak in those meetings, Saphira thought bitterly, I'm an ornamental piece to display Father's powerâI'm useless.
With interest, she peered closer at the map, updating the tapestry of information in her mind.
King Edwin's armies were stationed at his bordersâkeeping close to the Lux Castle and his precious City of the Rising Suns. Most alarminglyâSaphira saw the hordes of black pieces closing in from the shadowlands, closing in on the smaller purple pieces. That's far more black pieces than what I've ever seenâis this why father has promised Celestine's hand in marriage in exchange for killing Golgog?
Celestine entered the chamber with the effortless grace of someone accustomed to admiration. A veil of fine lace draped over her deep purple hair, slipping off one shoulder as she adjusted it with a delicate hand. The soft lilac of her gown, which fitted perfectly to her curves, shimmered as she moved, accentuating the regal poise in every step.
Celestine's pale violet eyes, striking and sharp, settled on Saphira with a quiet frown. "Hello, sister. I assume you've heard my news. It's trueâI'm getting married."