THE FEUD #1

CHAPTER 1

NOVENA

Large drops batter against the glass windows, separating the harsh elements from the cosy warmth inside my chambers. I watch the running streams of water, visible before the dark blackness lurking beyond, light making the water droplets shine. The music echoing through the halls of the palace are only dulled by the roaring sound of nature, raging at our guests in the ballroom as they dance and dine. I listen to the conflicting sounds as I hurry to finish dressing, eager to join the occasion.

I’ve just returned home from finishing my Political studies at the University of Sanelane. The degree is certainly useful when you are a part of the most politically powerful entity in the country. Although, I'm probably never going to sit on the throne. I don’t really care about politics, even though I studied it, however, there’s always the slim chance I could be Queen one day. Usually, there would be an election if more than one sibling stands for the throne, but I’ve always known that it will be my brother, being male and the eldest, he will be favoured as generations have shown. He will be voted in by the nobility and inherit the position as the Ruler of South Continere. It’s rather pointless fighting a losing battle when you’ve grown up knowing the result – not that it truly bothers me.

Since coming home, I’ve found myself pondering where the future will take me. There are lots of options within the government. I could deal directly with the charities the crown supports or be a spokesperson since Ragnar honestly has no people skills. I could even dabble as a writer. Perhaps I will write a story about the wonderful life at court. But then again... maybe not. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to decide what I want for myself with my father breathing down my neck about a suitable match. Sooner or later I would have to find a suitable guy and get married, or risk my father choosing one for me like he did for Ragnar. I could marry a Lord of the Nobility, which would be the most acceptable choice for someone of my status. The Nobility are rulers of their own states within South Continere, the highest level of government under the monarch. Then I actually laugh at myself. Marriage, is that all I’ve got going for me?

Looking into the mirror set in front of me, I find myself gazing into the pools of green reflecting back at me. Windows to the soul they say – the very core of my being. I’m reminded that these are the same eyes that I see every day, and not just on my own warm skinned face, but that of my brother’s and father’s, viridescent green eyes run in the Mace family. The Mace’s gene has always been strong with its tendency for dark coloured hair, warm-tone skin and most importantly the green eyes. It never failed to come through in the offspring. Adjusting the dainty gold headpiece, I prepare to join the guests in the ballroom. I know the dinner being held at the palace tonight is for my benefit. My father has finished choosing the perfect woman for the prince and now he has turned this attention on me. This is the third palace dinner being held by the King in the last two months, inviting everyone from high-profile elites to wealthy celebrities in an attempt to scan the pool for the best catch.

A small smile tugs at my lips when I consider my gown. The material is absolutely stunning. A slim navy-blue strapped style, complimenting the Mace’s family look flawlessly. I hope to steal the show with its simplistic finery opening on the arms and upper chest to flow down over my narrow waist and long legs, finally draping to expose skin at my back. Slipping my feet into simple elegant navy-blue heels, I’m finally ready to leave. I take one last look in the mirror, my straight dark brown hair flowing freely around my dolled-up face to just below my exposed shoulders. Let the man hunt begin, I chuckle to myself.

The ballroom is alive with the movement of bodies against bodies speaking in a language so primitive and yet, everybody understands it. The elegant swirls and footwork could be described as almost hypnotic – the room moves almost as one entity under the painted ceiling. I spy my brother, Ragnar on the golden stoned dance floor – splendidly turned out in slimming black that enhances his tall, designed frame. Performing as the prince ought to – his beautiful fiancé in his arms, reminding me of a butterfly the way her grace is unmatched. Lady Alma Blacksmith, the only child of the Duke of Sanelane is shy and sweet. I watch her smiling at Ragnar as if he puts the stars in the sky and the light in the sun. I roll my eyes. I can’t imagine Ragnar doing anything romantic enough to have given her that notion but who am I to assume that? I've just known him all of my life. Leaving the dancing crowd below the stage where my father is seated lavishly, I find myself at the refreshments.

Lord Axel, the son of Lord Spencer Bonnesse, the Duke of Benerdale, is an only child since his mother died during childbirth. His father had dearly loved his mother and for his son’s part in her death, he had never been loving towards Axel growing up and certainly not now either. It is no secret among the nobility or royalty that Lord Spencer was and still is a neglectful father. It’s one of the reasons Axel had practically grown up at the Palace of Ladonar instead of at his home mansion in Smithberg, another was that his father didn’t care enough to force him to stay at home. However, as Axel and Ragnar had finished varsity and training at the Three Sister, the Duke had been requesting his son’s presence more frequently. Axel is also known to be Ragnar’s best friend, a position that has made his private life much easier to ignore by the other members of the nobility. Ordering himself a drink, his shoulder-length blonde hair falls into his face when I come up beside him. His cologne is overpowered by the smell of alcohol I notice as I place my own order.

“A little early, don't you think Axel?” I smile, amused.

We long ago dropped the titles when addressing each other, only during formal occasions do we ever use our birthrights.

He shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips as his hair crosses his angelic face again when he turns to speak with me, "Hello, lovely Novena."

Not for the first time I find myself wishing I didn’t know him as well as I do. Otherwise, I would most certainly have found his looks appealing. Alas, my blood does not heat at his gaze nor does my heart skip at his closeness.

“Your father’s here, I would slow down if I were you.” I warn mildly, downplaying how very serious I am, having seen his father having a conversation with mine only moments ago.

His eyes widen, dramatically, as he downs the rest of his drink in one swift and glorious motion. Always the rebel.

“Hence the drinking, little Vena. I plan to get very drunk and with any luck forget his very existence. I certainly wish he would forget mine but no such luck yet." I frown and he clicks his tongue,"None of that please. Don’t stress none for me,” he says plainly at my concerned look, “I am well-rehearsed in the art of acting sober when the occasion calls.” He winks before making his exit, closely monitored by appreciating looks from many a young lady.

I found myself laughing at his antics, however irresponsible, before casting eyes out across the fashionable coward. Lady Alice Freegard, Duchess of Flori crosses my line of sight, her dark skin a rarity admired for its smooth warm appeal. She walks towards Axel like a woman with the world to gain and a goal in mind. The first child of the five noble families to take the title, Alice has held her new role no longer than a year now. I can’t help watching the way she strolls with such confidence, placing herself neatly in Axel’s way to gain his attention. Without fail, Axel raises a blonde eyebrow at the beautiful woman in appreciation and after a few shared words, he’s taking her hand and guiding her to the dance floor.

Sipping my bitter drink of dry red, a favourite of mine, I move around the side of the grand ballroom, greeting those that approach me and when necessary, conducting small talk to hopefully hurry the night along. I spot Lord John Goodman’s two sons, although their father is nowhere to be seen. The Duke of Cliffadere rarely leaves the sanctuary of his state castle. A constant topic of gossip whenever the brothers join polite society. The Goodman men are known for their dark charms when it comes to their looks and yet placid natures. Max is the youngest by two years though he is larger built than his older brother, William. Max has a bright future in his career as a rugby player which is a stroke of good luck considering that William has been announced as the heir to his father’s title. I draw my gaze to look upon the tall black-haired man, dressed as finely as any woman. A group of young ladies encircle him like a rare jewel, hoping to tickle his fancy.

I catch myself smiling thoughtfully at the Duke-to-be, when long arms wrap around my shoulders and chest. The paleness of the woman's limbs gives her away before I even have to turn to identify you. I find myself smiling happily at the lady woman we call Emmaline - a gorgeous redhead adorned in a golden dress sparkling down the length of her lean body.

“Where have you been?” I demand playfully, “I have been wandering around here by myself for close to an hour.” I pout.

“Oh? The title hunters haven’t mowed you over trying to introduce themselves yet – shocking.” She looks around as if she is searching for somebody. “But really, why are we standing by ourselves?”

I sigh, wondering vaguely, “Because I haven’t yet entwined myself in the warm embrace of a social group.”

She pulls a face, “Ew.”

I laugh loudly in amusement at my best friend, “My thoughts exactly.”

Emmaline lights up, “Hey, did you notice Axel dancing with Alice?”

I nod, “Yeah,”

Emmaline fakes shock as she speaks, nodding her head for emphasis, “His been quiet the downer since Ragnar’s engagement to Alma and his father showing face and all. Glad to see he’s finally having a bit of fun.”

I lean closer to her, clearly of ears flapping around us, “That’s because he’s been indulging in his fair share of whiskey. Caught him at the bar.”

“No…”

“Oh yes, he’s really drunk. You could get intoxicated just by taking a whiff of him.” Emmaline makes a face of disgust at my words, but it’s all in good nature. We have both known Axel longer than our memories go back.

“Ah, speaking of a good time, what time is the afterparty?”

“Down girl.” I joke, softly bumping her shoulder, “We still have to do the time first.”

She crinkles her face cutely, wiggling her nose at me. Suddenly her attention drifts over my shoulder, her light blue eyes catching something of interest. Seconds later, a voice clears behind me. Turning slowly, I scan Emmaline features to decide the kind of attitude I should bear. A smile brightens her face so following her lead, I place a curious smile on mine as my eyes land on the Goodman brothers. William stands the closest to me, a delighted smile tugging at his lips.

“Princess Novena,” he says, bowing before me respectfully.

Rising to his full height, which is impressive amongst the rest of the crowd, he offers out his arm. I see Emmaline already accepting Max’s offer as he leads her into the crowd of swirling people.

“May I have a dance?” he asks, and I feel the intensity of his attention.

“Of course, Lord William, I would be delighted.”

On the arm of one of this country’s most eligible bachelors, I walk by his side. The crowd of dances subtly make way as we glide into the centre of the fluid movement meeting a very unhappy Ragnar and always charming Alma in the midst of it all. Facing William, my night of dancing and enjoyment has only just begun.