Chapter 1: Secrets of a Royal

A small, two-story house stood in a clearing just west of the main city. At the moment, a young woman was watching from the trees as her friend taught a blind man to dance. It was unfortunate that he, Maddox by name, had no remote interest in having anything to do with dancing. It was only because his dearest friend, Marella, had asked him to learn for the sake of the Princess. As it was, the Princess was the very woman attempting to deal with Maddox's stubbornness. True, Princess Kylara Lalit Kalil was not exactly the typical princess, being friends with commoners like Marella and Maddox, but she was still royalty.
Kylara rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, looking up at Maddox. "Would you stop stepping on my feet and start paying attention?" she asked.
"Isn't it your job to get out of my way?" he snapped irritably. "This would be so much easier if I could see what I'm doing…" he added under his breath.
"Well, if you would lead the basic properly-"
"Why do I even have to learn how to waltz? It's not like you won't have plenty of other partners to dance with at your birthday."
"Maddox, stop acting like a child," Marella scolded, walking back to the front porch of the Glade House. "We talked about this."
"No, you talked – I took a nap. She's just going to back-lead, anyway."
"If you would just shut up and learn this, then I wouldn't have to back-lead-"
"Yes, you will. I can't see what I'm doing, remember?"
"Honestly, it's bad enough that I have to play the gracious hostess for that stupid Ceritic prince without having to beg someone – who is supposed to be my friend – to learn a simple dance," Kylara grumbled, pushing Maddox away.
"Hey, Kylara, what time did you want to get back to the Castle?" Marella called.
"I have to be back by two, but I wanted to get back early to clean up. Why?" Kylara replied suspiciously.
"Because it's two-forty-five," Marella said, already moving to untether Kylara's horse.
Kylara stared at her friend for a moment before sprinting across the yard. "Do me a favor and try to sort that lump out," she said, mounting her horse. "I know it's impossible, but if anyone can manage it, you can."
"Just go! We'll see you tomorrow if you can't get away before then," Marella called as Kylara rode off.
"I'll see you at home, Marella," Maddox sighed, groping for his walking stick.
"Hold it right there, Maddox Woodham. You're learning the waltz," she snapped, pulling him into the dance frame. "She didn't teach me first for nothing."

Captain Tariq Jyoti Shalyn stared out the window as the lush forests of Delken rolled by. The carriage was only half an hour away from the capitol and it's Castle. His master, the Crown Prince of Ceritium, and the extra valet he had decided to bring along sat across from him, both fast asleep. Captain Shalyn sighed and looked back down at the slick surface of the board he held in his hand. He was just about to write something on it when he heard hoof beats moving at a different tempo than that of the horses pulling the carriage.
Prince Iztoz stirred as Kylara rode past and looked out the window, following her progression along the road.
"Captain Shalyn, I do believe that I shall have some fun once this business with the Princess is resolved," he said, his grin widening as she disappeared around the next bend in the road.
"Yes, Sire," Captain Shalyn replied quietly. "If I might be so bold, sir, why bother with this one? She is barely old enough to satisfy you before she passes."
"She is not that much younger than yourself, Tariq Shalyn. Besides, there are plenty of women willing to console a grieving widower – and a royal one at that."
"Apologies, Sire, I only wish to assist you and make the most effective use of your time."
"You worry too much; you need to relax," Iztoz sighed. "The only place worth campaigning against is Delken, and thanks to King Dhaval, I have this place completely under control."
"Sire, I am concerned-"
"There is nothing to be concerned about," Iztoz snapped.
"Be that as it may, your abilities have not successfully been tested at this level and you may end up spreading yourself too far," Captain Shalyn replied. "No matter which way you look at it, you could be putting yourself at risk."
"As long as everything goes smoothly, I shall be perfectly alright. I have Dhaval's complete cooperation, and I have my top security man with me – everything will go according to plan."
"Sire, you already plan on using a puppet, how are you so sure that you will not need to control someone else?" the Captain replied, indicating the man asleep at Prince Iztoz's side.
"I shall only worry about that if the problem arises," Iztoz sighed tiredly. "Now, if you would please relax? Focus your energy on making yourself presentable, or something."
"Yes, Sire," Captain Shalyn replied, starting to check his appearance as he had been commanded.

Kylara scrambled up the front steps of Delken Castle just as her parents strode out the massive double doors. Kylara faltered and fell against the last few steps, twisting her ankle slightly.
"Stand up, girl," King Dhaval said coldly. "You're late."
"I am sorry, Father, I was teaching Maddox how to waltz for tomorrow and-"
"Enough. Prince Iztoz arrives at any moment, and you were supposed to look your station, not like some common farm girl," he snapped.
"Listen to your father," Queen Aashrith said absently.
"You see? Your mother agrees with me. Now, straighten yourself out before the prince arrives."
"But he is barely a quarter-mile away!" she protested. "There is not enough time!"
"Then you will spend the next week in your room, Kylara."
"I would rather sit in my room than go to that stupid ball, anyway," Kylara muttered.
"What was that?" Dhaval asked.
"Nothing, Father," she said quickly, moving to stand behind her parents.
"Which ball, exactly?" Dhaval snapped, seizing her arm.
"Ah!" she winced, trying to pull away.
"You shall remain in your room unless I deem you otherwise occupied, is that perfectly understood?" he said dangerously. "I asked you a question, girl."
"Yes, Father, I understand," she replied.
"The Prince approaches. Now remember your place or so help me to be rid of you."
"Yes, Father," she repeated as she took her place behind her parents.
As the Ceritic carriage drew closer to the front steps, Kylara rubbed the spots on her arm where her father's fingers had dug in. She glared at her father's back and wished she'd been born to parents that understood her – who cared about her for more than bartering purposes. She thought about running away for the millionth time just as Prince Iztoz's carriage pulled to a halt.
"Remember, Tariq," Iztoz said as he prepared to use his meat puppet. "I am Glenn, he is Prince Iztoz."
"Yes, Sire," Captain Shalyn said, moving to block the windows.
"That will not be necessary," the puppet said. "I have finished."
"In that case, Sire, we should not keep our hosts waiting."
"Indeed," Iztoz agreed through the puppet.
His true body stood and opened the carriage door, kicking out the steps before stepping out in the late March sunlight. He bowed as first Captain Shalyn, then the puppet moved out onto the steps.
"Prince Iztoz," King Dhaval beamed as Iztoz came near. "Welcome to Delken City."
"King Dhaval," Iztoz replied, grinning broadly. "Your home is even more beautiful than I had been led to believe."
"If you think this is good, you should see our gardens," Queen Aashrith added with a smile.
"Perhaps this daughter of yours would be so kind as to show them to me?" Iztoz suggested.
"Not in your wildest dreams," Kylara said just under her breath.
"Prince Iztoz, this is our daughter, Kylara," Aashrith said, pulling her forward.
"Your Highness," Kylara said stiffly, bobbing a curtsey and lowering her eyes.
"Princess Kylara, it is an honor," Iztoz replied softly, bowing low to her. "I had heard rumors of your beauty, but I had not expected any of them to be true."
Kylara's eyes flicked up to meet his for a moment before she curtsied again. "I assure you, sir, that such rumors are the idle chat of peasants."
"Not so idle, Highness," Iztoz protested.
"Perhaps Kylara would be willing to show you to your chambers, Prince Iztoz?" Dhaval suggested, though Kylara was sure that she was being ordered to do so.
"That would be very kind of her, and I would surely be fortunate to find a princess beautiful of both face and heart," Iztoz said, deigning to kiss Kylara's hand.
Kylara glanced at him and pulled her hand away. "If your escorts will take what they and you need for the immediate moment, I shall lead you to your chambers."
"Certainly. Captain Shalyn, if you would-" Iztoz started, turning back to his own body and security officer. "Glenn is apparently more ill than we had assumed. Help him upstairs."
"Yes, Sire," Captain Shalyn replied, instantly moving to support his master's body.
"Lead the way, Your Highness," Iztoz said, bowing ever-so-slightly before Kylara turned.
Kylara silently led the way to the guest wing, wishing like mad to just go back to the Glade – where she'd been trying to teach Maddox how to dance. She hated playing hostess, and she hated even more the fact that she would have to dance with him for most of the evening.
"Your chambers, sir," she said, opening the double doors to the suite and showing Prince Iztoz and his entourage into the foyer.
"It is a beautiful setup your father has given me. I shall be sure to thank him, this evening," Iztoz's puppet said.
"If there is nothing else, I shall see you this evening," she replied, bobbing briefly as she turned to leave.
The moment Princess Kylara closed the door, Iztoz – the real one – collapsed to the floor, his puppet unceremoniously landing on the couch against the wall.
"Sire, are you alright?" Captain Shalyn asked quickly, kneeling at the prince's side.
"I will be fine once I rest a while. Is Glenn alright?" Iztoz snapped.
"He is fine, sir." Shalyn replied quietly. "He landed on the couch."
"Good, good," Iztoz sighed, painfully getting to his feet. "It seems that I am out of practice," he chuckled.
"You need rest and some decent food, Sire; you have been weakened on our journey," Shalyn said, helping Iztoz into a bed. "I shall fetch something for you from the kitchens."
"That will not be necessary."
"Sire, you have barely eaten anything since we left Ceritium. You need to keep your strength up."
"There will be plenty of food this evening."
"That Glenn is going to eat, not you. I am going to be back shortly, just stay here and rest," Captain Shalyn insisted.

Kylara sat quietly at the bottom of the grand staircase. Her father's orders to keep her in the Castle had been passed to the guards at the doors. Whether she liked it or not, she was stuck.
She so hated how constricting her life was – particularly in more recent years. She was barely ever allowed time with her friends, and even then an escort would usually accompany her. Kylara supposed that she would be chaperoned even more often after what had just happened.
She heard footsteps behind her and quickly stood to curtsey.
"Your Highness, that is not necessary; you need not bow to the likes of me," Captain Shalyn said quickly, stooping to kneel at her feet as protocol dictated.
"Oh," Kylara replied softly. "A-are the rooms to your master's liking?" she asked, more out of courtesy than curiosity.
"Yes, Highness. He simply needs a little nourishment before the feast this evening."
"In that case, I suggest seeking out the smaller kitchen – the larger is already preparing for this evening and will pay you no attention."
"Thank you, Highness," Captain Shalyn murmured, standing as the princess turned to go upstairs.
He watched her for a moment, wondering why she had bothered to help him when she could have simply ordered a servant to do the same. Suddenly he felt sorry for her. Prince Iztoz was going to kill her and she had no idea… She did not even seem to want her station like the others he had encountered.
Captain Shalyn's heart felt heavier as he went to find the smaller kitchen as the princess had suggested.

Kylara grumbled to herself as she made her way back to her suite. She wished she could at least hold a weapon more intimidating than her letter opener. Even more so, she wished that she knew how to use it. She sighed yet again as she opened her door and moved to the low bookshelf that stood by her bed.
She knelt and gently ran her fingertips along a series of journals that she'd kept over the past year. Those journals held a life that she wished she could have, and yet never wanted to see. They were full of her dreams and nightmares that she had had almost every night for the past twelve months – her own death, among other things. True, she had discounted the nightmare until the one she had the next evening came true: her parents informed her of their desire to have her marry the Prince of Ceritium in order to form an alliance. She was unsure whether or not Prince Iztoz was aware of this, but she had decided to assume that he did until proven otherwise.
Most of the dreams that Kylara had had, to her increasing dismay, had come true. A lot of those things had been small – Maddox stepping on her feet repetitively that morning, for one – and some larger than others, but of the hundreds of dreams that had interrupted her sleep, none troubled her quite so much as her dream of being proposed to. This nightmare only concerned her more now that the person who had offered the marriage had arrived; it was another reason that Kylara refused to trust Iztoz. No, it had not yet happened, but that didn't matter to her.
"Snap out of it, Kylara," she told herself. "Just shut up and have a nice, long soak."
Just after she muttered this, two of the Ladies-in-Waiting that her parents had assigned to her entered to draw her bath.
"I swear you people have the hearing of wolves," Kylara sighed.
"Yes, Highness," they replied in unison before slipping into the bathroom.
After that, everything seemed to go by in one big blur. Her bath seemed to last only moments before she was attacked by brushes and lufas. Even more quickly, the moment she climbed out of her tub, her Ladies-in-Waiting slathered on lotions, perfumes and make-ups. Once she had dried her skin and donned her undergarments, she was hastily seated at her vanity, her hair combed through and styled while her nails were filed and painted to compliment the dress that she was to wear that evening – still two and a half hours away.
"My father wants to make sure that I am punctual this time, does he not?" Kylara asked as her head was jerked back for the seventeenth time.
"Yes, Highness," the Ladies-in-Waiting said, again in unison.
"Do I have to wear the pink?"
"Your father, the King, instructed us to ensure that you wore the pink, Highness," the Lady on Kylara's right said.
"Fine."

"Prince Iztoz, come in," King Dhaval said as he shuffled through some dossiers on his desk.
"Your Majesty," Iztoz said, still appearing through his puppet.
"Olivero, you may leave. Close the door on your way out," Dhaval said, addressing his assistant.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lord Olivero replied with the slightest hint of irritation.
"We have a problem, Dhaval," Iztoz said easily.
"What? We have no problems, Iztoz, the plan is working perfectly."
"Your daughter wants nothing to do with me. If there is no interest to start with, I cannot do anything with her," Iztoz replied curtly.
"Is that all?" Dhaval chuckled. "Whether she has any interest in you or not has no bearing on the situation. I will order her to spend time with you and after you spend some time with her, just ask my permission to marry her, and everything will be set."
"Do you honestly think that you are not underestimating her intelligence?" Iztoz asked, folding his hand behind his back.
"She is only a girl-"
"What does that have to do with intelligence?"
"Women are designed to be unintelligent," Dhaval shrugged.
"You know nothing, King Dhaval. Women have just as much capacity for intelligence as men. They are simply forced not to use it."
"There is nothing to worry about; my daughter is not very intelligent."
"Most women find a way to exceed their imposed limits, Dhaval. I would not be surprised if your daughter did the same."

Kylara cursed softly as she stumbled at the top of the grand staircase . More often than not, she wore comfortable flats rather than the six-inch strappy heels now tied around her ankles. She had made it down two flights of stairs and only had one more to go.
As she looked up from the shimmering pink fluff of her skirt, she saw her father and Prince Iztoz coming from the direction of the King's study. Both were dressed in their finest black ensembles.
"Come along, Kylara," Queen Aashrith murmured as she approached the grand staircase herself. She, like her daughter, wore a light pastel color – yellow, in her case, with golden beading.
"Yes, Mother," Kylara said, quickly moving to glide down the stairs by her mother's side.
"Aashrith, my darling, you look lovely," Dhaval said, taking his wife's hands.
"And you, my sweet Dhaval," Aashrith replied.
Iztoz remained silent, simply watching Kylara as she fidgeted with the ruffled tulle of her skirt. After a pointed look from Dhaval, Iztoz approached her and bowed.
"Princess Kylara, words cannot describe how lovely you look," he told her quietly. "I am fortunate that I will have the opportunity to dance with you."
"Thank you, Prince Iztoz," Kylara replied, well aware that her father was watching her. "I, uhm, look forward to the dance."
"Would you also be so gracious as to allow me the honor of escorting you inside?" he asked.
Kylara glanced at her parents before replying. "I would be delighted," she said, accepting his offered arm.
Moments later, the four royals entered the ballroom to thunderous applause. In what seemed like even less time, the dance floor cleared, leaving Iztoz and Kylara in the middle of it. Kylara looked up at him and took a deep breath as a mournful waltz began to waft through the room. Iztoz bowed just before Kylara dipped down in a curtsey. By the time she looked back at him, he was already offering his hand to lead her around the floor. Without missing a beat, she accepted and stepped into his arms waiting for him to start.
"I don't know where the beat starts," he whispered, glancing at her. "I barely know how to waltz."
"What?" she whispered quickly.
"Help me? Can you back-lead?" he said, trying to make it look like he was simply waiting for the music to sink in.
"Step forward on your left foot," she said, starting to tap the beat on his shoulder. "Now."
After its somewhat rocky start, the waltz went very smoothly and Kylara was certain that Iztoz knew more than he was letting on. After she had back-led the first pass, she felt Iztoz starting to take over and take her into more advanced moves. As they sat down next to each other for dinner she looked over at him and smiled.
"Prince Iztoz, you lied to me," she murmured.
"Pardon?" he asked, blinking at her.
"You told me that you can barely waltz; if that were true, you wouldn't have had us doing half-turns all around the floor," she explained, smirking.
"I… well, I was hoping to make a good impression on you," he replied, flushing slightly. "You make me nervous, if I am to be honest."
"Why in the world would I make you nervous?" Kylara asked, genuinely grinning at him.
"What I said when I arrived this afternoon is true; rumors of your beauty do not do you justice. Any prince would be lucky to even have a chance of dancing with you. Can you blame me for hoping that I might fool you into liking me?"
"I suppose not, but I have never heard rumors about myself, before," she sighed, automatically reaching for her glass as her father stood to make a toast.
Iztoz remained quiet until the toast was finished. "For someone whose father has such a tight hold on her you certainly know how to take control of a difficult situation," he murmured.
"Well, you know how to make use of a second impression," Kylara replied, smirking.

That night, Kylara went to bed with a smile on her face. Prince Iztoz hadn't turned out to be too terribly bad, and he had managed to spend most of the evening making her laugh. True, her feet ached and she still hated how uncomfortable her dress was, but the man that her father was going to force her to spend time with was one that she could at least be friends with.

Captain Shalyn quietly closed the door behind Glenn and helped him into one of the beds before going to check on Iztoz in the largest bedroom of their suite.
"Are you alright, Sire?" he asked.
"Such a pity," Iztoz sighed, leaning back against his pillows. "Princess Kylara is one of the most interesting women I have ever met, and I have to kill her."
"Not necessarily…"
"Her father wishes to see her body before he allows me my half of our deal. It is unfortunate, but he knows that I have some talent in magic, already, from the potion I sent to him for his wife."
"Could you not simply illusion a dummy?"
"What does it matter to you, Tariq? You do not know her, and she means nothing to you."
"I have not heard you laugh so much and so genuinely since…" Shalyn started.
"Since Noelani tore my heart from my chest?" Iztoz asked bitterly.
"Well… yes," Shalyn replied quietly. "Princess Kylara could be a good match for you. She might even be strong enough to restore your heart as fully as possible after how broken it was. Surely you cannot enjoy murder so much, now?"
"Leave it alone, Captain Shalyn. It is my choice to make."
"As you wish, Sire," Captain Shalyn said, turning to leave his master's room.

Kylara turned over in her sleep, the golden memories of that evening tarnishing quickly as she did whatever she could to fight off another woman with superior strength and the coldest green eyes the princess had ever seen. She swore that she was just about to die when a man bolted in front of her, taking the sword's point for her. In spite of his wound, he continued to hold the woman off, shouting for her to run and escape. He was just turning to look back at her when she woke.
"What in the world is going on with me?" she groaned to herself. "Who was that…?"
"Your Highness, I must ask that you remain quiet," a deep, masculine voice said from the darkest corner of her room.
"Who's there?" she snapped, pulling her covers over her low-neck-lined nightdress. "Who are you?"
"A friend… perhaps," he replied. "I have come to warn you that your father means you harm."
"What else is new? Who are you?" Kylara demanded.
"Your father brought Iztoz here to kill you. I wish to stop him, and in order to do that, I have to get you away from here," the man said quietly.
"Show me your face," Kylara said firmly. "Tell me who you are."
"I am a friend. For now, that is all you need to know. Do not trust Iztoz, I beg you. He seems nice but that is only a cover for his true nature. You have not even seen his true face."
"Why are you telling me all of this?" she asked.
"I am offering you a better life, Princess Kylara. If you want it, then you can tell me in two days. I will return then to find out."
"Hold on a minute! What's going on?" she asked, scrambling to light her lamp.
By the time she had it lit, the man was gone. She cursed to herself and fell back against her pillows, wishing she could get a full night's sleep.