ARELLIA

They call me zivrét d'Arcana— the silver-eyed witch.

An anxious nursemaid had caught a glimpse of pale, moonlight eyes as I came into the world and those words slithered from her lips. Thus, the name stuck and spread like wildfire. The old language is harsh; a witch I am not but born with odd features in the warm continent of Illya— my olive skin tone and silver irises are certainly a spectacle to behold.

In this life, I am but a doll in jewels and a fancy dress to be paraded and gawked by the masses for political gain. A princess to sit on the dais beside my father and brother so they can flaunt me to the world.

The Angel Zarxos himself, reincarnated in the crown princess! They whisper. I try to ignore the rumours but when people have lived with prophecy for so long, coincidence can be mistaken for revelation. My birth was ordinary. My life is mundane. And their prophecy is absurd.

I sit on an embroidered cushion as a maid combs my hair. Her fingers are long, her nails are sharp and jagged. I wince when they scrape my scalp as she separates the locks of my midnight hair to brush. I am too afraid to tell her to stop. I sense her unease about something.

"A gift from Zarxos, your highness," She swallows dryly as if her throat is parched, she does so whenever she sees my eyes. As if she has never really gotten used to them. "...your eyes. It is known that he too, possessed silver eyes. They were beautiful."

I tilt my head to give a small smile. The woman, Enka, is my handmaid. She is much older than I but has yet to grace forty years. She was one of the nursemaids who was present at my birth, and Enka took it upon herself to personally care for me after my mother passed during birth. She has never left my side.

"He has blessed you with his sight. The eyes of Éryad." Enka looks down at me with her deep brown eyes crinkling at the corners, her skin is rough and bronze and she possesses a small thin mouth. When she smiles, she reminds me of a wraith.

"The Eyes of Éryad is nonsense, Enka-"

"Your highness, you must not sprout heresy!" Panic washes over her and she eyes the door for any eavesdroppers. "Magic has been dormant since the Angels left us, but since the day of your birth, there are increasing rumours of magical creatures being spotted in the Ebony Meadows!" She grins and squeezes my shoulder lightly.

"Perhaps magic may come back to our kingdom!"

It is hard to feel excited when I have never left the palace grounds. All I know of the creatures from the Old World is that they were born from the ether that connects the Heavens and the Earth. When the Angels disappeared, they destroyed that connection and thus magic was lost and these creatures ceased to exist.

"You're right. Please do not tell father and Vasilis I said such things." I mumble. Enka smiles as if to reassure me of her loyalty.

"I heard the growing disputes over our southern islands are not dying down, your highness, have you heard? Pirates looting and pillaging our beautiful islands! Soon they will make their way inland!" She shakes her head. "What will happen if we cannot prevent war?"

"We are a peaceful kingdom, Enka. Fear not, our councillors will resolve this matter. No harm will come to Illya." The words flow like running water. Practised and precise. In truth, I fear war. But, I crave the excitement. Vasilis, my brother, will be leading the war council. Illya is a peaceful nation, a dire conflict such as this can cause disruption in trades in the south. I bite my lip. Enka scrunches her face in worry.

"You worry too much, Enka. All will be well." I try my best to hide my uncertainty. Eighteen years at court and I have yet to master the arts of lying. Sensing my wish to end the conversation, she says no more. When Enka finishes brushing my wavy hair, she dresses me in silver and black to match my eyes. I don a shawl loosely over my shoulders. Enka dons a thin veil over her eyes and exits my chambers. Five of my handmaids draped in grey and white wait outside my door. A thin veil covers their eyes, identical to the headdress Enka wears. It signifies the status of female servants in the palace. A veil for handmaids, a black collar for servants and a grey band for palace cooks.

My handmaids shadow me step for step with heads bowed as I make my way to the dining hall. On the surface, they may look like loyal servants adhering to my every request but in truth, they watch my every move, listen to every sound I make and follow me wherever I go. I get no respite, no privacy. Perhaps, I am paranoid.

I cross the white-and-black tiles of the floor, darting straight across the gold and copper three-headed python of my Imperial sigil and toward the dining hall. White and gold banners hang heavy on the high walls. When my guards see me, they click their heels, straighten their stances and push apart the heavy door made of weighty iron and steel. When the doors open, golden lights dance over my skin. The grand hall is large with a chandelier hanging from the centre of the room. Glass ceilings above cast golden hues of morning sunlight onto the marbled floor.

"Arellia," A deep voice echoes from the far end of the room. Vasilis sits at the end of the long dining table draped with gold and red silk. It is our father's seat. A feast of roasted vegetables, spiced wine, grilled meats and freshly baked bread is scattered messily atop the table.

"Come here, beautiful." He waves nonchalantly in my direction, his eyes are glued to a letter discarded on top of a half-eaten turkey leg.

"Letters for you." He smiles wide but there is a darkness behind his eyes.

"From whom?" I ask timidly.

"Don't play coy, you know exactly who." Vasilis scrunches the letter in his hand and throws it at my feet. I clench my jaw at his public display. I nervously eye the eight guards situated along the walls and at my handmaids behind me. I hope that rumours will not arise from this. I must calm him down. Sweat starts beading on my back and my face grows hot.

"Vasilis, brother, truly-" Vasilis slams a knife through the turkey leg and shatters the porcelain plate beneath. I flinch at the noise and the handmaids gasp in shock. The guards do not move an inch.

"Your Highness!" He bellows. I clench my fists beneath my shawl and look into his eyes. Anger rises in me like steam but I cannot let it show.

"Your Highness... I do not know what angers you so," I say, trying to hide my shaking voice. I walk slowly toward him and watch his eyes rove up and down my form.

"Tell me." I place a hand softly on his forearm and smile sweetly. I cannot afford to make a mistake. I hope he does not notice how my hands shake in fear.

"Sweet Arellia," He sighs and closes his eyes. He grabs my hand tightly and brings it close to his mouth. I almost flinch in disgust. "It hurts me that you are now at an age where men are pursuing you in this way. The king of Nessaz has once again written to you." He looks up at me in anger and pulls my hand to his chest.

"My heart aches that you do not reply to his pleas." His grip is painful and my hands sweat beneath his. As if I could do so. Any letters I receive from beyond the palace walls are scanned and kept by Vasilis, all so that he can come and taunt me later about them when boredom arises.

"Your Highness, I am grateful for your concern but fear not, I have yet to find a partner suitable to wed."

He considers my words carefully and throws my hand to the side so roughly I almost stagger. His moods are unpredictable and since I do not know what irks him, I cannot calm him before things get out of hand. Vasilis leans back into the golden chair and says, "The disputes in the south have me riled up, dear sister and I believe we must rectify this issue before it gets any uglier." He pulls the grease-stained knife from the turkey and twirls it in his fingers.

"Has father come to a decision-"

Vasilis flicks the knife forward, it flies past my head so fast that I do not have time to react. It clatters on the ground somewhere behind me. My handmaids gasp and step aside. My heart pounds as I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath to calm myself. His face is that of a bored child. Unfazed and uninterested.

"Father is old. I lead the war council. Have you forgotten?" He says in a low voice.

"Forgive me…" I look away. I have no strength to face him.

"We do not have a military of our own efficient enough to fight these pirates at sea. Our ships are trading ships and are not equipped for battle. After all, we are a peaceful kingdom." The grand chair scrapes obnoxiously as Vasilis stands slowly, stretching like a relaxed cat. "I will hire mercenaries to finish the task."

"Your Highness, that does not seem proper. Mercenaries are not loyal-" I regret my words as soon as I say them. A sting spreads across my cheek but before I could even react to the assault, Vasilis grabs my chin and pulls my face close to his.

"You dare." He breathes. Tears brim my eyes and my brows furrow in anger. This only makes him smile wider.

"The man who brings me the head of Captain Ghükar of Khronir will be knighted and will take your hand in marriage." He grins.