The Amber Tower part of The Amber Chronicles
The hero Prince Rafel
Rafel Riva, crown prince of Rivand, felt restless and the only reason he
could imagine for his desire to flee the palace lay in the ball to be held that
evening. Four and twenty young women of
lineage and wealth had been invited. The
thought of meeting and greeting them chilled him.
He glared at his mother’s back.
His escape from the palace had been delayed while she gushed about the
gaggle of girls who would attend. Each
one had been evaluated as to their suitability as a bride. Her choices had been based on the prestige
they would bring to the family.
The queen turned. “Rafel, you are
five and twenty. ‘Tis time you were
wed. You must choose one for your bride
and make her the happiest of women.”
And him the glummest of men. “Yes,
mother.”
“Three princesses are among the most eligible. The duke’s daughter will also do. But a princess will bring honor to Rivand.”
His stomach clenched. Choosing a
bride meant there could be just one woman in his life. A dreary and boring fate. He liked women, all women.
He hurried along the corridor toward a side door and an escape from the
noise and bustle of preparation. All to
celebrate an event he found distasteful.
So engrossed in his plan to escape when a hand clamped his shoulder he
reached for his sword.
“Son, I’m glad I caught you.” The
king smiled. “Have you seen any among
the young ladies you would choose as a bride?”
Rafel shook his head. He had
avoided watching the arrivals of the past few days. “I’ve been busy.”
“I have several suggestions. The
time has come for you to put aside your wild ways and settle into providing
heirs for Rivand.”
“Leave your list with my body servant.
Mother left hers.”
The king nodded. “I will. Perhaps by comparing the two you will find
the perfect candidate. My list contains
those who come from prolific families. I
expect you and your chosen bride to present the kingdom with a son by this time
next year. There’s nothing like a son to
drive wildness from a man.”
“Yes, Father.” Rafel’s hand
tightened on the hilt of his sword. Was
there a need for an heir to have an heir?
He had three younger brothers, all in line for the throne.
Rafel watched his father walk away.
Only a few strands of gray touched the king’s dark hair. His father was a hale man and good for many
more years of rule. As thoughts of
twenty or thirty years of being crown prince arose, Rafel groaned.
He reached the exit nearest the stable and slipped outside. The brother next in line for the throne
emerged from behind the hedge. “Rafe,
aren’t you excited?”
“About what?”
“The ball.”
Rafel shrugged. “Nor
particularly.”
“But you might find love with one of the ladies.”
“Or eternal unhappiness. What is
love beyond a trap lauded by the verses of poets? I have no desire to marry. If you like you are welcome to them all.”
Peder frowned. “Everyone says you
must marry.” He scuffed the dirt with
the toe of his boot. “What if you chose
the maiden I love?”
Rafel leaned against the palace wall.
“Do you have a choice?”
“I do. She loves me but her parents
are angling for the heir to the throne.
You have all the luck.”
Luck, Rafel thought.
“Hardly.” Tonight he would meet
young women all vying for his attention.
He pushed away from the wall.
“See you at the ball.”
“Where are you going?”
“For a ride.”
“You’d better be back in time.”
Rafel laughed. “If I’m not, you
can take my place.” He dashed to the
stable.
The Heroine - Jalese
The strains of a waltz filled the air with a poignant melody. This evening the king of Lamau hosted a
ball. Women in brightly colored dresses
swirled around the room on the arms of courtiers equally garbed in brilliant
shades.
Jalese sighed. As usual she hadn’t
been asked to dance. Why would any of
the courtiers want to escort a plain, ordinary and often clumsy young woman,
even if the king was her uncle?
When her cousin, Cyna, glided by on the arms of a handsome man Jalese
sighed. Cyna’s bright pink gown clung to
her lush body while the paler gauze draperies moved like a cloud around her
hips and legs.
Envy shot into Jalese’s thoughts.
Cyna was all she wasn’t. Cyna’s
blonde hair hung in ringlets down her back.
Her eyes were the blue of sapphires.
We should be friends, Jalese thought.
But we’re not.
One day soon their uncle would name as his heir the niece who found a
husband who would be trusted with the rule.
A princess needed a prince and there were none available in the nearby
kingdoms.
The music ended. The king rose
from where he sat with his friends.
Jalese left the secluded window seat.
The sorceress of Lamau appeared at the king’s side. Her appearance was magical. She raised her hands and sent clouds of
scented flowers through the room. “A
prince has been summoned and will soon arrive.”
A hundred voices murmured and the sound rose in pitch. Jalese drew in a breath and felt her hopes
vanish like rain puddles after a summer storm.
The Villainess _ Cyna
Cyna clapped her hands. She
whirled. Like a homing pigeon she
appeared at Jalese’s side. “Isn’t the
news wonderful? A prince has been
found.” She patted Jalese’s
shoulder. “Do you know what this means?”
Jalese did but she refused to cede the crown to her cousin who had
arrived at the castle eight years ago.
Though Cyna had been born on the same day in the same hour and minute as
Jalese when she appeared the king had been surprised to learn of her
birth. His estrangement from his oldest
sister had been complete.
Jalese’s thoughts raced with questions.
When would this mysterious prince appear? What kind of man would he be? Her uncle was a good king who cared for the
land and the people. Would a stranger
possess these qualities? If he did could
he maintain them with Cyna as his bride?
The sorceress bowed to the king.
“Be prepared for his arrival. He will be found and must be freed.” She vanished.
Once the buzz of voices became whispers the king walked toward the
refreshment room. “Come, food and drink
awaits.” He led the way to the buffet
tables.
A cluster of courtiers surrounded Cyna.
Jalese tried to escape but her cousin grasped her arm.
“Join us for the repast.” Cyna’s
honeyed voice added to Jalese’s edginess.
“The sorceress’ announcement will bring you much attention. When I wed this prince there be any number of
my court who want to wed a princess.”
Cyna’s unspoken words were clear to Jalese. “I’m not hungry.”
“I won’t let you run off the way you usually do. Did none of the courtiers ask you to
dance? If you continue to lurk in dark
corners you’ll never wed.”
Jalese stumbled several times in the journey to the buffet room. Twice she almost fell. Her thoughts were as scrambled as breakfast
eggs. One of the courtiers pulled out a
chair at one of the tables for her. Why
all this attention, Jalese wondered.
Being with these laughing maidens and men made her wary. If only she could escape.
The courtiers strode away. With
grace Cyna lowered herself onto one of the chairs. “Someone must take you in hand. When I’m queen you’ll need a home elsewhere.”
Jalese’s hands fisted. “The palace
has been my home since I was two.”
“And mine since I was twelve.”
Cyna smiled. “When I’m queen I’ll
make many changes. Uncle is too generous
to the people and the taxes are much too low.
The entire palace must be redecorated.”
Jalese stared at the table. Cyna
would also spend money on jewels and fine clothes. She would beggar the kingdom. Jalese looked for an escape but her cousin
blocked the aisle. A man servant filled
goblets with deep red wine. The
courtiers arrived with plates of food.
Cyna lifted a carydad and turned to Jalese. “Try one.
They’re delicious.”
“And poison to me.” Jalese jerked
back and her hand hit one of the goblets.
Dark red liquid spilled across the table and spattered her bright green
gown.
Cyna’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh
dear, you’ve ruined your gown. A
blessing though. That color makes your
skin look muddy.”
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