Chapter 1
The Start of the End
<Work In Progress>

"No." Queen Aenwyn said, shaking her head as she started to get up from where she was sitting.

    "Mother, if I may be so bold," I said with a frown, "you have not let me explain myself.

    "I said no, Lada." Aenwyen continued on her away out of the room, leaving me with the tightest frown on my face. I am young, but I am not a fool - yet the Queen of Ostines seems to still think of her princess as a toddler. It's insulting, to be frank, but I can see why. Children are a wild card in the card game of politics.

    Children would only make what's complicated messy in Ostines. Ostines is a beautiful place that needs the care of a monarch that will treat the country as the real, living queen. Queen Aenwyn may be clever, but my mother is not bold. Even when the King of Chiadan starts making more reinforcements at the borders of our home.

    "They fence us off like dogs, Jamison." I stood up from my chair as the door opened and one of our servants entered the meeting hall. "I do not stand for being treated as a mutt."

    "Your Highness, I feel like you're creating conflict where there is none -" The servant held up an expertly crafted kettle I made when I was nine- "would you want some tea, your Highness?"

    I would want those borders to be neutral again. "Yes, thank you," I sighed and joined him in the middle of the room. I swear sometimes that I am the only one who cares about this country, that I will be the queen they all know they deserve. Like it or not, Mother, I will be the best of my kin.

    Jamison poured me a cup and went to put sugar in, but stopped at a lift of my hand and simply just put in the cinnamon stick I frequently add. With my morning tea now sorted, it was time for my daily lessons - something I was not thrilled about, but a burden a princess must bear. A future queen does not complain about research assignments from snobby, withered mentors. Besides, the six hours I spend there make up for the boring walks Queen Mother sends me on to, quote, quell my waring thoughts. I am the least confrontational person I know, when people listen to me.

    I could almost hear one of her lectures as I drank, "Lada, my wildfire, have you taken your walk today?"

"No," I said, "I have no intention too, Mother."

Aenwyn tilted her head and gently sat down on the bed beside me. "Lada, what's wrong?"

"Mother, it's not okay!" I vented. "How can we let Chiadan into our borders! Mom, it's madness. They're going to start a  war!" I glared at her, and despite myself, I started to blame her for what was happening.

Mother nodded slowly, and gently took my hand. "Lada, there are some things you don't understand yet. You're still growing. What Chiadan is doing is only strengthening their defenses, not threatening our's. There is no reason to panic."

"I fear the worst, Mother," I said. "Perhaps you should be shown their might for you to understand my anger."

I pulled my hand free, and as my thoughts drifted back to reality, I could hear the disappointed call of my mother, trying to summon me back to her side.

    When the lessons finished and I had yet another history book to report on, I began my daily walk about the castle. Each day, I patrol for traitors, signs of conflict, and spies. Queen Mother says I seek gossip, but I hardly think research about our own staff is gossip. There is Jamison Shepard, a servant who has worked here before I was born and yet still appears youthful - my mother must be jealous. There are sisters Diana and Wendy Leadbetter, my mother had them around when I was born, making them a second and third mother. Other noticeable names I know are Knights and Dames Natalaia Thatcher, Walter Crowther, Clarence "The Bastard" Arkwright, Sterling "The Fool" Kisser, Pierce Cantel, and the most beautiful in the castle Celia Tucket. Had I been born with an eye for jewels and not bugs, I would have asked for her hand already. I am unfortunately not the one, being attracted to men and sixteen.  Each one has the most likely means of betraying me for the sake of prisoning my people and selling us like sheep - just as the cartel in Chiadan does to my kin not protected by my mother. What a wicked concept; I will correct it. Jamison was born a Chiadan bastard, Natalaia's first love is the famously known Torrance Nevil who has been having controversy as of late. Sisters Diana and Wendy were born of a Chiadan witch who immigrated here - they are the least likely on my list, but I do not forget the origins of their blood. Walter, Clarence,, and Pierce all met Prince Jeremy Doneuuald and came back home claiming he was hospitable; which leads to Sterling's refusal to spy on the prince for me and calling me a hopeless romantic. Disgusting to assume I'd set my standards on the floor. As for Celia, she knows how highly I regard her. A good spy would want me to trust her. A good spy would wait for me to grow a connection to her, then report my foolish mistake to the Prince I so deeply hate. No doubt his father allows for Jeremy to have one or two spies - and my mother denies me of mine. Everytime I ask, it is always a no; no, let's not rock the boat or tip the scale or learn about my enemies. I have research books on war - I know that to conquer means to know my enemies, and I intend to know them personally.

    Three months ago, there was a ball in Chiadan celebrating Prince Owai's birthday - the elder brother and soon to be king - and I met with as many royals as I could. Jeremy, Millicent, Jonathan, Adelaide, and Torrance. I would have spoken to Theodore and Demi, but House Lockwood did not show. Each one has their own faults that I could know more about if I only had a spy on my side.

    My thoughts of spies, however, were cut short by seeing Walter, Jamison, and Celia all working on a horse - making it groomed and perfect, perfect for a queen.

    "What is this?" I folded my arms together as I approached them. Celia laughed at my displeased action, but Jamison was the one to actually answer me - good boy.

    "Princess Lada, your Queen Aenwyn is going to Mandalay." Jamison informed, gesturing back to the horse. "She is leaving tonight. Likely why she did not have the energy to deal with you this morning."

    "She never has any energy for me, Jamison, so do not excuse her," I retorted. "If she's leaving, why hasn't she told me beforehand?"

    Walter spoke up, more assertive than his passive boyfriend, "Queen Aenwyn was called by Lady Judith while you were in your lessons to leave today - but the Queen was informed of Merlin Leseque's departure a week before. You should ask for the reports. He's a prodigy."

    "Prodigies are manufactured. Merlin Leseque is nothing more than an embarrassment if you think he's a prodigy." I said, balling my fists. It was not fair. It is not fair; that fool who goes around drinking and fighting and having to be leashed by House Westwood's Blair - a child who almost makes me ashamed to wield the most destructive magic as of now - is somehow a boy with magical properties we have not yet seen before. He is an earth elemental, but his mechanics work in favor of air- he is destructive as fire and yet can wash away the effects of his rampage like water. Whatever Merlin is, he's not a prodigy. Merlin Leseque is a monster.

    With the sunsetting on her golden hair, Celia looked like an angel as she stepped away from the horse and put a hand on my shoulder. "Think what you will of him, your Highness, but Aenwyn thinks of him as the future."

    "He is not the future." I demanded. "I am."

    "There she goes again," Walter said, "Little Miss Mightier Than Thou!"

    I scolded at his comment, but Jamison saved him from being cremated. "Princess Lada does not think herself better, Walter. She is only stressed. Now, let's finish with Aenwyn's horse. Lada, I'll join you for dinner."

    Dinner was horrible without Mother. Father did his best to entertain me, but Jamison knew better than to let my father go on with the five thousandth wildfire joke. I would always laugh but Jamison knew what my laughter really sounded like. Stopping yet another soul from premature cremation. King Heraclius Trevil was not the sharpest sword in the armory, but he was a damn good soldier and bodyguard to my mother. He was built to protect people, his chest being the size of a shield and his height being early seven foot - though that may be a lie he told me when I was the size of a bug compared to him. His hair was brown but turned black with age and my own childhood rage, and his beard was thick and busy enough to brush. Curled into itself, it looked no longer than his jaw, but maintained and it was just below his chin. I inherited his height, his thin and muscular body, and his stubborn nature but everything else was from my mother - who looked like a doll compared to him. She was short, round, with long red hair constantly wrapped in a braid. She is beautiful, he is a boulder, and I am their savage child.

    Past dinner, I bathed and watched from the window as my mother left - giving my dear father a kiss before riding off into the moonlight. Some say my father cannot be around my mother much because when the sun sets,the moon rises - I disagree. My father cannot be around my mother because he is, without a doubt, the traitor I have been looking for. Out of everyone I know, my father is at the top of the list. Always in Chiadan, always working with our armies - I bet our country could fall tomorrow and he would be nowhere to be found. But, in some cruel fate, he loves my mother. So he must choose his traitorous ways, or my mother. It is up to me to cement his choice in my mother, so I must be the perfect daughter when his eyes are on me - and the cruelest queen when he is away. It makes sense, and yet no one believes me. No one trusts me. That's why I need a spy.

    The days after my mother left were longer than usual. I had no one to beg in the morning, Jamison would not let me into his quarters to complain while he was still sleeping, and father was more active in the castle than ever which meant I had to be as fake as I could be. It was exhausting, the weight of my responsibilities. This castle does not make it easier either. The white walls give the appearance of a blissful, calm place. A good illusion for me to have, but not when I want to vomit at three wildfire jokes coming three times in a row. I scratched my arms as I patrolled the hallways with big, long lines of windows - and the outdoors were only pleasant when the moon was out to tell all the wildlife to be quiet.

    However, day eight of my mother being away and I awoke as Heraclius and Jamison opened the door to quarters. Despite myself, I yawned and the two looked at me worriedly.

    "Good morning, King Father. Good morning, Jamison." I said as I sat up, rubbing my eyes of sleep. "It's too early for terror."

    "Lada," Heraclius fiddled with his coat, evaded my eyes, and looked far paler than usual. He was not well, had I failed to prevent the worst? Jamison and father were the culprits and I was the fool? If I fought, maybe I could live through this.

"Princess," Jamison said, "your mother is dead."