Loving the Forbidden Prince

AYLETH

They rode on for a moment in silence as Ayleth considered his words. Her ire was up—she resisted, and knew his blindness to the servants of his own God and their harms or hates in the world. But before she could speak the words, she saw that that could only mean her own was the same—that the people who served deity, no matter which it was, were never entirely aligned with it.

The power though. The strength the gods offered...

Ayleth thought back to all the ways and times her mother's adepts had made her uncomfortable. The... hunger in their eyes, for power, for glory—and at times, for Ayleth. Ayleth could not deny the shine that would arise in her mother's eyes when she'd been working with the power. It had always made Ayleth squirm. There was darkness in it, she knew. It was why she'd refused her mother's repeated pleas to become an adapt herself.

But this spell that she remembered, that Etan claimed her mother used as a threat...

"Surely if I resist the darkness of this thing," she murmured, "Surely it can't be used against me? I participated with my mother, Etan, but not to that purpose. Surely she couldn't use her power to kill me when part of the power of that spell came from myself? Surely my power would not work against me?"

"I pray it cannot," Etan growled, "But we can't know until we reach Quwan. And I fear, Ayleth. I've seen too many people deceived to their own deaths. I cannot bear the thought of it happening to you. Please... please consider all that I've said."

They rode on, both of them lost in thought.

Soon, though, they were both distracted by the return of Borsche, his voice low and tight. The road was just ahead, and there were other travelers on it, though none that he recognized, from Summitras or Zenithra.

They would reach the Fortress City very soon.

Despite her dark thoughts, Ayleth found herself thrilled at the idea. She'd never traveled far beyond the borders of Zenithra—had never been allowed to. Her parents had only taken her to neighboring Kingdoms where their power outstripped the rulers'. But now... now she would finally see parts of the world that were not tightly in her parent's grip.

Perhaps this would help her with her dark thoughts more than she had realized.

As they broke out of the forest and onto the road, Ayleth sat up straighter in her saddle. The dark mountains, only shadows beyond the tree canopy when they'd been in the forest, now loomed over them, giant sentries of the sky. And soon, the road curved and the Fortress City of Anvor came into view, its thick, dark wall spanning the entire canyon between the mountains, the peaks of the Castle flying flags in the distance behind the fortress walls. As her eyes widened at the sheer size and clear domination of the place, Ayleth remembered what she could from her studies.

This gate, the Southern Gate, opened in the Kingdom of Pyre—the Kingdom ruled from the Fortress itself. But the North Gate opened to Finete.

The Pyreans were thick as thieves with Zenithra, and although a small country, the combination of their allied relationship with Zenithra protecting them on one side, and the Fortress City on the other, left them a generally peaceful and somewhat arrogant nation, by Ayleth's recall.

As they drew closer, Ayleth could see why the Fortress City had such an intimidating reputation—the stone walls, thick enough to drive a wagon across the top—loomed high over the road, casting a shadow that lengthened as the sun went down behind it. The only windows in the walls were barred, leaving the impression of mouths open to bare teeth.

And high above the wall, mimicking the peaks of the mountains on either side, the city towers and Palace rose, flags flying.

The whole sight made Ayleth shiver. A chill passed down her spine.

The city looked... dark. She couldn't deny it. Zenithra was intimidating—thick stone and brick and a powerful presence as well. But this... after their discussions of good and evil, power and ambition, Ayleth found herself seeing evil in the darkness that was likely only intended to subdue potential enemies.

Now that they were within sight of the city, Borsche rode with them, his horse directly next to Etan's, while Falek had pushed forward until his horse's head was at Ayleth's knee.

"When we reach the gates, you are Lady Ariel, being taken to marry the Lord Nathane of Finete," Borsche said quietly to them. "Allow us, as your men at arms, to do the talking. Ayleth, that look you can get with your nose in the air, that will be quite useful here."

Falek snorted when Ayleth glared at him, but Etan reached for her hand and squeezed it with a grin.

She grumbled under her breath but didn't protest.

She did know exactly what expression he meant. It wasn't one she used often though. There was no need for him to imply it was familiar to her!

The shadows of the walls seemed to reach for them as the horses walked wearily along the road, and the crowds grew around them, all travelers headed into the City before night fell and the gates would close.

Close like a mouth slamming on prey—closing them into the City for the night.

Ayleth shook off the fancy.

She was a simple lady—look, not even in fine clothes!—going to wed her chosen Lord. They had to pass through. There was nothing for anyone to see.

"Ayleth, can you put the hood of your cloak up, just in case they've been alerted to look for the red-headed princess?" Borsche said.

Falek nodded and Ayleth pulled the hood up—suddenly grateful for the extra warmth.

"This place feels... dark," she muttered.

"You would do well to listen to those instincts, my lady Ariel," Falek said in a normal voice, in case others overheard them. "No matter what land you tread, there is always a risk of brigands. But do not fear, we will be home tomorrow!"

Ayleth nodded but pulled the cloak tighter around her as they stepped directly into the shadow of the walls and waited their turn to be challenged by the guards.

Instinct, or pure fancy, she would be glad to put this place behind them.