The Other Lycan Princess

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Talissa locked eyes with her reflection in the giant gilt mirror in front of her, and was struck by the blankness in them that made her think for a moment it was a complete stranger staring back at her. Although perhaps that’s what this version of her was, she mused wrly. If she had been assessing a complete stranger, what would she be able to tell about them from this first glance? The long black hair and dark fox-like eyes set against a golden bronze complexion marked her as a Summerlands native. Attendants were busy lacing her into a high necked, bell sleeved gown that looked like if someone had muddied the midnight sky with flecks of charcoal, nearly overwhelming her waif-like figure. The cut and color of the gown would have made her look severe, if it weren’t for the gossamer webbing of pure silver thread that spread out in intricate patterns across almost every inch of the fabric. Even through the thickness of the wool, she could feel the heat of the metal. Any Lycan who touched her against her will would feel the burn of it. Removal of the dress would require her active cooperation, a deliberate design meant to offer brides an additional layer of protection against strangers and unruly new husbands alike. Only most brides didn’t have a dress with such rich detail - the sheer amount of wealth draped over her could only indicate the upper nobility. Overall, anyone seeing her for the first time would come away thinking of her as a delicate Summerlands noble doll, beset by wedding day jitters. Delicate. In the protection of her own mind, Talissa scoffed. Anyone who knew her, truly knew her, would say that Talissa had left delicacy so far behind, they weren’t even on the same continent. Elena often had - in fact, it had been one of her favorite sayings. A memory flashed into Talissa’s mind of the two of them as children, Elena’s face a rictus of consternation and barely suppressed amusement, as she listened to Talissa’s Nanny Cordelis shrieking a litany of complaints. The Talissa of now agreed wholeheartedly with her younger self: that miserable cow had deserved every last bit of mischief unleashed. Talissa had been particularly proud of the entire army of croaking frogs she’d managed to dump into Nanny Cordelis’ bed. Gathering the frogs from the pond and keeping them sufficiently moist had been a task and a half for a five year old, but she had managed. She already knew even then that as Beta to her Alpha sister, it was her job to keep everyone in their kingdom, their pack, in line. Elena’s role in turn was to provide for everyone and protect them from external threats, just like their father, the King. The nanny had been new to the Summerlands, a refugee from the desert wastes, and one afternoon had been spewing the prejudice common to that area to one of the other servants in the keep. Talissa, who had already instinctively formed a dislike of the woman, had overheard every last sneering drop of poison. “For the Crown Princess to be 13 and still unshifted is unthinkable. A latent shifter is no true Alpha at all! Who will listen to such a ruler? She’ll bring ruin to the Summerlands, you mark my words.” To Talissa, this meant war, and she attacked every way she knew how without escalating it into all out violence, hoping to force the nanny to leave her position without Elena being the wiser about the hurtful words said against her. As always though, Elena already seemed to know the whole story. “Nanny Cordelis, while Talissa lacks subtlety in her methods, by now you should also know her well enough to understand that she never does anything without good reason.” And then Elena’s voice had shifted, to tones that at turns inflected finality, strength, and threat. “Would you like to guess what drove her to take these drastic actions against you?” Nanny Cordelis had paled then, realizing that she’d been caught. She gaped a few times, but no words came out of her mouth, as though Elena had stolen her voice entirely. Elena’s next words came out light and pleasant as a meringue, “I understand that assimilation can take time, and perhaps such an assignment with a member of the royal family was not the most suitable for one still learning our ways. Still, your skills at nurturing the young are valued in this kingdom. I’d like for you to spend time as a carer in the capital’s creche. I am sure the Mothers there would welcome you with open arms.” Nanny Cordelis stammered her gratitude and all but fled from the room. It was typical of Elena to give everyone a gracious way out. Talissa had frowned at her sister then and asked, “Aren’t carers at the creche responsible for the worst work? Would this not be a significant step down in status for her?” Elena nodded “Anyone in her circle of gossips will likely guess and be more circumspect in their behaviour, and tolerate it less in others. The traditional punishment is banishment, or us ripping her throat out for the insult, but I was being honest about us valuing her skills. Besides, the Mothers are wholeheartedly loyal to our family. They will keep her in line and cultivate her properly. In time, she will have the opportunity to rise once more to a station that befits her talents, hopefully with much less combativeness with her next charge. Everyone deserves a chance to change for the better. Even you Talissa. Frogs in the bed and switching all the sugar for salt in her meals for a week straight! Cook almost had a conniption when he learned how often you’d snuck past him. You certainly left delicacy on another continent when you arrived here. We’ll have to teach you how to be less showy in your methods.” Elena had taken her hand then, and the two sisters had spent the rest of the day together, with Talissa coming up with increasingly ridiculous pranks, and Elena honing the ideas into simpler things with teeth. ——— In the mirror in the here and now, Talissa’s reflection showed a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes glittered with the first stirrings of anything other than the terrible blankness that had been her mask these past weeks. Then she remembered herself, and her expression shuttered once more. Selene above, had it only been just three months since her whole world was upended? Elena would never again be there to hold her hand and guide her way through the world. As much as Talissa treasured her parents, it was Elena she always turned to first when she needed family. Elena, who had always been so generous with her time, and patient with her. Elena’s training had been as General and Queen, while Talissa was groomed to be the future head of her sister’s Queensguard. Elena’s political acumen had been leaps and bounds ahead, constantly synthesizing the web of information she received from the court and beyond, but she did her best to get Talissa familiar with the basics, like how to read people, and then look beyond the surface to their true needs and motivations, as well as additional battle tactics that she thought would be useful for Talissa to understand. It had been the two of them, poised and feeling invincible, ready to take on the world. Then the plague arrived. In the months prior, Elena had been receiving increasingly urgent coded messages from trusted agents she had across the continent, which lined up with the news her father was hearing from allied kingdoms. They had done their best to prepare, which very likely saved the lives of thousands of their people, but the plague was still terrible in its power, and struck latent Lycans the hardest in its last wave. “It’s as if my wolf is desperate to break free, and my body can’t contain the fight any longer.” Cordelia wheezed, and it sounded like she was gasping through shredded lungs. “Listen, Talissa... a threat greater than we’ve ever known is coming. This plague is but the first wave. Father and I have been secretly arranging an alliance with the Bower Kingdom, and no matter what happens, it needs to come to pass. Trust King Constantine. Work with him to protect both our peoples. He is a good man, a good King... You will be stronger together. I’m so sorry my darling... I love you, and I will watch over you... when I have gone to Selene.” It seemed as though Elena had been saving her last breath for this, and not long after her dying words, she slipped away while Talissa clutched her hands and sobbed. Things had moved swiftly after that in the two kingdoms, like an automaton had shifted into gear with its sole purpose to produce a suitable royal wedding ceremony even as families continued to grieve their fallen. Father had called it their duty to provide hope to the people, even as Talissa wondered how a single celebration could paper over one of the lowest points in the kingdom’s history. But she was a dutiful princess, and true to Elena. She would see it done. She’d found Elena’s letters from King Constantine a month after her sister passed, and read every last one of them, over and over. The ardent declarations of passion had been enough to make her blush. Marrying the man her sister loved, and who loved her in return felt like an impossible task, but Talissa was determined to go through with it. She couldn’t betray Elena’s final wish. But in her secret heart of hearts, Talissa had always dreamed she would marry for love, much like her parents had. A perfect match, with true devotion and bonding. King Constantine had almost had it with Elena, and the last thing Talissa wanted was to replace her sister’s memory. Any true match of Elena’s would know to grieve her for all eternity, like Talissa would. She would be meeting King Constantine for the first time today at their wedding, the distance between their kingdoms only allowing for a single stilted letter from either side prior to the ceremony. Her deepest hope now was for a strong friendship with King Constantine, built on a foundation of their shared love for Elena, and a desire to thwart whatever threat they had seen on the horizon. As political matches went, it was more than most got. The attendants were almost finished now, putting the last touches to a complicated hairstyle that involved weaving dozens of slim braids together. Talissa closed her eyes, and gathered herself, steeling her spine. It was time to stop seeming like the breakable doll, and embody the soldier she was trained to be.