~Prologue~
"Valencia, dear heart," His hand cupped the little girl's cheek while his index finger tapped her lovingly on the nose as he had done countless times before. His voice cracked despite the playful game. "Remember what I told you?"
"Yes, Daddy." She replied with a smile, her lilac eyes delighted as she looked up at the tall man, taking in the long dark waves of his hair and unshaven face.
He was feral in his appearance, his eyes alight with the wildness that spoke of his identity and power. The little girl had watched him countless times exude the confidence of his daily role, taking charge of the many who shared their large home with them.
Leonidas Drake was a firm man—but none could break through his hardened features the way his daughter could.
Valencia clutched her stuffed dragon to her chest, her chubby fingers flexing softly with childish innocence as she played with the leathery texture of his wings.
The corners of Leon's mouth quirked in a sad smile as he took in the sight of his baby girl, wanting to capture the moment in his mind forever; Her skin was ivory pale, her platinum-blonde hair fanned out around her shoulders, and down her back like snow.
Pulling his hand back, Leon swiftly picked his daughter up, feeling as if his heart would be ripped from his chest in that very moment.
"Daddy loves you, sweet girl; forever always!" He murmured against her ear, blinking back tears that threatened to fall.
Pressing a kiss to her temple, he placed her back down, discerning the beginnings of a frown clouding her angelic face, and forced a cheerful smile as he straighted.
"The kind ladies inside will come for you shortly. I imagine they'll have a nice hot cocoa ready for you and Sir Roarsalot, yes?" He ruffled her hair with a chuckle, his hand lingering longer than it usually would have. "Wait here for them and be a good girl, vita mia."
His boots struck against the concrete roughly as he made his way to the truck. The hollow sound would haunt him, the quiet thud of each footstep as he walked away from his own flesh and blood—something that has never been done before.
Royals do not abandon their own on the streets, and she will be all alone.
Leon's jaw clenched as he started his vehicle, his knuckles white as they graspes the steering wheel. He breathed hard, his chest aching from the loss in a way he had never experienced before, despite his remarkable age.
It took all his willpower, his beast riding him hard not to do this, to shift the truck into gear.
As he drove off, he refused to look in the rearview mirror at the little girl who sat on the front stoop of the building with her legs tucked under her, playing quietly with her stuffed animal. It wasn't because he didn't want to—in fact the complete opposite was true.
The King knew that if he was to look back, his resolve would shatter, and he would be unable to leave her behind.
But he had to. His mind flashed briefly to the prophecy surrounding his daughter's birth and the responsibility now resting heavily on her little shoulders. Valencia is the only hope for a better future, and in order keep her safe until her powers emerge, he had to let her go.
As the truck disappeared around the corner out of sight, Valencia looked up from her stuffed dragon, wondering when Daddy would be back to collect her.
"Remember, Valencia, wait I told you." He had said.
"And though she be but little, she is fierce." The little girl whispered to herself, her words garbled with a toddler's mispronounciation just as the door to the orphanage opened.
Looking up at the surprised woman in a white and black dress, Valencia clutched Sir Roarsalot closer.
Though she be but little, she is fierce...!
