On the eve of Love:

Imperial Capital, Mogul Empire:

“Your Majesty, you indeed deserve the reputation of being one of the greatest patron of art on the continent. My father commissions artists, but I must admit, these paintings of yours are masterpieces.” Crown Prince Calvert praised in a modest voice. Standing beside Calvert, Belor smiled a little, neither accepting nor rejecting his praise.

Calvert glanced at the young emperor and frowned a little. Belor was in his early forties, young for an emperor. It made it all the more difficult for Calvert to get his attention. Seeing that the emperor had no interest in art, nor his praise, he tactically diverted the conversation to other matters.

“Your Majesty, the hall awaits your presence.” A knight informed Belor in a respectful voice. Belor nodded and said, “Crown Prince, we have hosted a feast in your honor. Our ministers and nobles will trouble you taking advantage of this occasion, but I request you to indulge their excitement.” He sounded troubled. Almost as if he didn’t want Calvert to join the feast.

“Certainly, your Majesty,” Calvert replied in a polite voice. He wouldn’t miss the chance to meet the nobles for anything. Since he failed to earn Belor’s attention through praise, and gifts, he had no choice but to try the trick on the nobles. Who knows, everything might work out in the end. Belor was too young an emperor to ignore nobles and mingling with them might get his attention, Calvert thought as he followed Belor into the royal hall.

Surrounded by nobles and the High Princes, Calvert maintained his presence. He praised and accepted some modestly. He spoke and listened moderately. He’d to show them that he was worthy of being the next emperor. Although Vedan empire never had great relations with the Moguls, they weren’t enemies either. It was a strategical peace maintained on thin strings for years. A good impression would help him later. It was an investment of the sorts.

The Emperor soon left Calvert to his means and quietly disappeared into the crowd after a quick introduction to some important nobles. High Prince Delian being one of them. As a younger cousin of Boler, he was third in line to the throne after the two princes. Charged with the duty of guarding the Prince, Delian was also expected to be the watchdog preventing the nobles from getting too close to a potential enemy, Calvert.

Calvert smiled to himself as he understood Boler’s wishes, but remained calm on the surface. He’d never believed Boler would just let him do as he wished, and he didn’t. Calvert moved casually, greeting and exchanging words with various nobles. “Your Majesty,” a sweet voice greeted Calvert drawing his attention.

Glancing at the owner of the voice, Calvert gulped slightly. Oh my God! That was all he could think about as he saw her. He’d lost his wife almost ten years ago and never took another since then. But damn, the woman before him was beautiful. All his control lost in fumes; Calvert returned the greeting, “Your Ladyship.” She laughed, her voice was the sweetest of all music to his ears. “I’m no lady, Sir. My name is Feya; I’m the daughter of Duke Julian.”

Calvert grinned, his smile, young and mischievous. “May I?” he asked extending his hand. Feya grinned. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied and took his hand. The music flowed in the air, and they danced. A prince and a princess, they were. But, they only saw each other. They grinned, and talked and danced. And, when the song was over, they danced to another.

“Are you sure you aren’t giving the wrong message here, Your Majesty?” Feya asked as she glanced at the hall through perked eyes. Calvert smirked with a raised eyebrow. “Too many nobles, and too many women trying to gain my attention. I’d say this works just fine.” Feya laughed. Her blue eyes and blonde hair along with her perfect curves tempting Calvert beyond his limits. He’d never been so tempted to lift off a woman and drag her to bed. But, Lord, she was worth more, a lot more.

Feya sneaked a glance at Calvert from the corner of her eye. Her cheeks blushed ever so slightly. Ah! He was a prince, adept in politics, but his eyes revealed his grand thoughts as clear as daylight. Having realized that he’d forgotten his position, Calvert smiled a little and took her hand and led her out of the hall towards the gardens leaving many guests chatting away behind his back.

Heavens! My father better not hear about this. He’ll rip me alive if he finds out I’m chasing a woman instead of nobles. I must be going crazy; Calvert thought as he slipped past the guards into the open gardens. It was night, cool compared to the Vedan capital and the blue tulips adorned the path leading to a magnificent waterfall constructed artificially overhanging gardens.

Feya was walking beside him. Silent, her eyes darting and drifting as she thought of something. Calvert nervously glanced at her. His heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears as the awkward silence continued between them. He was in his early thirties, not a boy in his teens and yet he was acting just like one. He didn’t know why, and he’d no idea how, but in an evening, she’d stolen his heart.

Love, he’d never loved a woman. He cared about his first wife, but she’d died too early giving birth to his son. Now that he found love, he didn’t know what he was going to do with it. Calvert sighed deeply drawing Feya’s attention. “Are you promised to someone?” He asked. Directly, and without any hesitation. Daughters were considered as assets by most nobles. They were like cards, and chess pieces used to advance their purposes. Promising a girl to someone was a common practice, sometimes done even before their birth.

Feya glanced at the man. He was by no means heavily built, with black hair and brown eyes, he was every bit like a Vedan. In the faint light of the lamps, he appeared a little weak and uncertain. His eyes were dark waiting for an answer. He was a Crown Prince, if he’d fancied her as some woman he can sleep with, he’d never ask her the question. It would only take a few words, and willingly or unwillingly she’d be by his side, but he asked her. He was considering her as a partner.

Feya stifled a laugh, and her eyes moistened a little. “Your Majesty, I wouldn’t ask such a question. They can….give a girl false hopes.” She said in a small voice clutching the hem of her dress in her little hands. Calvert glanced at her. She’d tried her best to control her expression, and her voice but her eyes could never betray him. They were happy, and sad, and hopeful. Hoping that his answer wouldn't betray her happiness. “I would,” he said. “Please answer me, Feya.”

She smiled, and her eyes were moist. She laughed a little, her expression bitter. “This wasn’t in my calculations, Your Majesty. I must say this before you say anymore. I’d first come to you to use you as an object to progress my plans. I was promised to High Prince Delian as his second wife, and for over a year, he’d postponed our marriage citing insignificant reasons. It was evident to me that he’d rather choose a woman of greater political leverage.

Although my father is a Duke, he isn’t rich, nor is he powerful. My union with the High Prince was a shield protecting us for many years. I’d to seduce the man. Hate me, blame me and curse me, but Your Highness, I’d to protect my family. So I choose you because you can ignite the flames of jealousy in Delian and yet stay out of his wrath. I’d hoped he would come to drag me away, or at least show some signs of jealousy but you…you were not what I had expected you to be.”

Feya’s eyes became blurry as two streaks of tears rolled down her cheeks as she smiled happily and continued, “I expected a cocky prince, one who wouldn’t care about others. I expected a noble, one who’d sleep with any woman. But, you were different. You treated me like a lady when I didn’t act like one. You indulged me when I was difficult. You smiled, laughed, danced and looked at me with love. I’d come to seduce you, and you loved me despite my immoral desires, and now…. I love you even though I know I shouldn’t.”

Calvert glanced at her. She stood before him, her head lowered, and her entire being trembled as she sobbed. The silence between them lasted for a long moment. Calvert sighed and closed his eyes. He’d loved her from the moment he’d seen her, but she’d come to him with such desires. He didn’t want to admit it, but she’d completely fooled him. If she hadn’t admitted it herself, he’d have never found about it. A noble’s daughter should know that keeping quiet was the best decision in such a case, and yet she admitted her wrongs.......for him. Calvert smiled and looked at her.

“You’d make a fine queen,” Calvert said. Feya raised her head and looked at him staring back at her with more love in his eyes. “One who wouldn’t lose to my mother,” he added. Feya opened her mouth to speak, but his lips sealed away her apology, fears and more. And, she stayed in his arms until he stroked her head gently. “You have already done everything. Now, it’s my turn. Don’t worry; I may not look like one, but I am still the Crown Prince of the Vedan empire. I’ll convince Boler, Delian, and your father. Our wedding will be a sign of peace between the two empires.”

*****

“Captain Gavril, His Highness would like to meet you,” a soldier informed one of the captains of Calvert’s personal guard. Gavril stared at the soldier and nodded. A direct order from the emperor had to be obeyed. I’d later inform the prince, he thought and followed the soldier out of the gardens. Even though they were in the imperial palace, they couldn’t leave the security of the Crown Prince to the Moguls, and thus a minimum of a hundred Vedan soldiers followed him everywhere. Discreetly, of course.

Walking up the stairs, Gavril said, “The inner chambers are quite exquisite. You should have called the commander; I have no real authority to make any decision.” The soldier smiled a little, and his aura underwent an earth shattering change as if his previous persona was an illusion. Gavril felt a chill down his spine as he noticed the change in the man's aura, and he instinctively reached for his sword, but he just knew he wasn’t fast enough. His eyes were dark, filled with despair as a sword pierced him through the gap in his helm and he silently fell to his knees like a broken puppet.

“I’m gonna borrow your name for a while, Captain Gavril.” The man said in a small voice and proceeded to remove the helm.

*****

Chapter 7 - Twisted Fate

Note to readers: I’ve been thinking that I should write faster. I understand as a reader, but as an author I’m still new so please bear with me for some more time. Starting next month, I’ll try to write 2 chapters/week.

I'm still new and so is my work. It's too early to ask for a favour but if you can spare a couple of minutes and write a review for others readers, I would really really appreciate it. In the whole RRL, where thousands of fictions are updated every week, I can only depend on your help to expose my work.

Thank you bud,

Kanna.