The Princess Broken Wolf

2

Esmeralda was dressed in a white all-over beaded lace gown with diamonds and moonstones. The gown itself was in a wrap wrapped with a v neck and long sleeves that trailed behind her. Her honey-blonde hair flowed freely on her back, cascading like honey. Her looks made everyone present at the ceremony awestruck. Rosamund felt proud of her little sister, her divinity inspired her and her beauty never failed to surprise her. As she made her way towards the grand stage, below the statue of Lucina, the goddess of light, the chants of a hundred girls and boys resonated in the hall. It was harmonious and tranquil, the presence of divine spirits caused heaviness in the atmosphere. Rosamund could feel the intense energy in the air, her skin prickled with electricity. Goosebumps rose all over her body. It was making it somewhat hard for her to stay still. She felt like she was being electrocuted. Thinking that it was normal, she looked towards Edward. To her surprise, he was relaxed, there were no signs of any distress. Weird, she thought as she tried looking at someone who was feeling as uneasy as her. Everyone was in a trance-like state. Looking back at Esmeralda, she saw her in a similar state as her. Goosebumps and shivering just like her. There was no one she could ask, so she kept quiet throughout the whole of the ceremony.

Maybe she was being selfish, Rosamund thought as she strode towards the balcony on the upper east side of the castle. She left her little sister in her mother’s care, knowing well that there would be no harm coming towards her. The night dragged on, it was already past midnight. Esmeralda’s bestowing ceremony lasted six hours and yet, it was the Queen Mother’s wish to hold a ball late at that hour. It truly exhausted her, the constant stares, the blatant comparison. When would they ever realize this mockery would do them no good? She felt not an ounce of jealousy towards her sister. She was more proud of Esmeralda than she was of herself. The chilly night breeze blew past her in a cold gust. The temperature had now dropped, there was an unexpected coldness around her. Her light blue dress fluttered with the wind. She had long changed into a simple A-line gown, with lace frills on the long sleeves and a long slit on the side of her legs. It moved with her steps like dancing with the wind. It was given to her by the Queen Mother. If she had a say, she would happily stay in her armor rather than the gown. Her only accessory was the charming moon clip with crystals dangling in drop shapes. It was a gift given to her by her grandmother when she went into her first war.

Rosamund sighed at the thought of Grandmother Thea. She was the only warmth in Rosamund's life besides Esmeralda. The only person that cared and told her stories of soulmates, giving her hope that maybe one day she would also get to experience the love everyone else was taking for granted. It was Thea that consoled Rosamund when things went wrong or when the king belittled her and made her go through punishments that were too harsh for a 12-year-old girl. Thea gave hope Rosamund needed in her darkest moments, but it was perhaps her misfortune that Thea was taken away from her when Rosamund was fighting in the battleground. Memories of Thea made her feel a bit at ease. If only the world was as peaceful as the night, she would be a bit happier than she was.

The creaking of the balcony door alerted her of someone coming towards her. Her hands went towards the dagger underneath her slit on her leg, secured in a garter belt. She was always prepared for the unknown. It was the survival tactic she learned during her years in the battles. She leaned her ears, as discreetly as possible, towards the footsteps to determine who was coming towards her with such anxious steps. Once she identified the footsteps, she eased into a relaxed position. It was in one of her sessions to recognize the footsteps of important people around her and the emotions that those steps conveyed. Military life taught her things unbeknown to most princesses in the realm.

Rosamund didn’t bother turning around to regard the person now standing behind her. She knew only uncalled problems would come her way if she was to say anything.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Edward asked, now leaning on the balcony railing.

“I wasn’t,” she replied with curtness.

“You are. Although you have never regarded me as someone of importance, since you came back, you have taken measures to avoid me to extreme lengths.” he sounded almost angry, she thought.

“You are concluding things yourself.” she turned to go back inside, in hopes there might be somewhere she could spend the rest of the night undisturbed.

His hands shot out and he clutched her upper arms tightly. Whirling her around to face him, Edward’s voice turned to a hardness she had never heard of.

“Tell me what is going on. What is it that they are saying you will be traveling to Karkonz in a week's time? What the hell is going on?” his blue-grey eyes blazed with frustration and anger. So no one told him the truth behind the reason for her going. Maxim must have known Edward would go berserk if he knew what was happening. That old bastard was putting everything on her shoulders yet again.

“Take your hands off of me.” She didn’t like someone touching her, even a little, and Edward was crossing the line he should have stayed in.

His hands dropped abruptly. He knew, if Rosamund wanted, he would be on the ground in a second before he could even blink his eyes. She was the commander of the Silver battalion, the undefeated Silver Wolf.

“Please. I beg you to tell me what is going on.” he resorted to begging. Edward was at the end of his wits, going crazy listening to the rumors of her going to Karkonz, being presented as a tribute, as they say.

“In a week, I will be getting married to the Karkonz Prince, Ruslan Aleksander, under the command of King Thomas and the Elders.” she looked directly into his eyes, saying with such clarity that he felt a dread pass through him. She was going to Karkonz. He knew what that meant. His doubts were confirmed. She was the tribute his father discussed last week, the peace offering Isolda wanted as an exchange for the alliance to end the upcoming war. She was going to be some other man’s wife. And that man was Ruslan Aleksander, the most feared person in the Realm. Known for his cruelty and brutality, he was known as Erebus, the god of darkness that even Queen Oslwa feared.

For a moment, Edward was frozen on the spot. How could he let that happen? The girl he had loved since she was a mere infant was going to be shipped off to the devil.

“No. Why didn’t you say no? Are you out of your mind? Rose what…”

“Don’t call me Rose.” she cut off his sentence. A flicker of pain passed through his eyes. He heaved a sigh in exasperation.

“Let me talk to dad. This will not work. We know what Ruslan is, he is the vilest and evil person. How can the King and Queen let you go? Are they out of their minds?” He will not let this happen. He can’t.

“It has been decided. Nothing can be done.” Rosamund said, knowing well that no kind of resistance would be fruitful. The King and Queen had been itching to rid themselves of her and this was the perfect opportunity. They were cunning and cruel like that.

“Don’t tell anything to anyone, especially Esmeralda. She doesn’t need to know.” she expected this much from Edward. Her attention went to the distant horse that was getting closer and closer. All the guests were there then who were coming towards them with such urgency. Edward was saying something in her background, but she couldn’t concentrate. There was a person on the horse. Someone was coming towards them at full speed.

In an instant, she looked back towards Edward while jumping on the balcony railing.

“Edward!! Someone is coming! Go alert the guards without disturbing the venue!! Do not cause a commotion. I will be going first!!” as she barked the orders, without waiting for a reply, she jumped from the balcony, landing swiftly on the ground with a thud. With hurried steps, she unsheathed her dagger and ran towards the horse rider that was now at the gate of the castle. Guards from the Magnus Battalion were already questioning the person who, as she moved closer, saw was Gilbert, the signaler of her own Battalion crew sent to the bank of the River Meroun. The guards came to a halt as they saw her coming closer. Gilbert was heaving, taking hurried breaths.

“Report Gilbert.” Something must have happened. Gilbert was supposed to be on the west side of the River Meroun, on the other side of whose was the border of Loswar.

“The Loswarian have started building the bridge, Sire. They have a mage who has controlled the river tide over their side. And they are building it real quick, Sire. They can cross the River in two days' time.” as best as he could, Gilbert tried to tell the princess of the situation. There was an eerie silence for a moment, Gilbert could feel the tension in the waves and the anger of his leader.

“Son of a b***h. I need you to come with me, Gilbert, and report to the King. Let us go NOW!” Rosamund couldn’t believe those bastards would move this fast. They weren’t supposed to have a mage, to begin with. It meant that one of the kingdoms was betraying them. Either Sahar Bagh or Draunkoom. Loswar was known to not possess any magic or divine power. Either way, this was upon them too fast. With hurried steps, she commanded the guards to send an alert gloom to Edward and Demir to alert them of the situation. Another gloom was sent to Lizbeth, the commander of Celeste, the Battalion that had solder with powers of teleportation and magic.

She really wanted a day's rest, she thought as she made her way towards the Throne Room, but it seemed as if rest and peace wasn’t a luxury she could afford. Hopefully, the ceremony would come to a peaceful end, Rosamund thought.

Unfortunately, she spoke too soon.