Chapter 3 - Bored by Suitors, Clothed in Silk

A handful of hand-maidens and attendants had come in to help Morgan get ready within the hour. Forced to wear a gold silk dress and a circlet of moonstone and pure silver, they all said she would be irresistible. She didn't believe it. Never did, maybe never would. Did she care, though? No. She cared for little within the Palace walls. Since her mother's death, life drug on painfully for her, her duties a weight on her shoulders she wished she could escape.

The clock tower chimed as the new hour had come upon them and they shoved her out of the room and down to the main hall. There, King Philip and his protector, Isaac, sat talking as they waited. Somewhere, Edward ran laughing and shouting, as oblivious as always to the world around him. With a heavy sigh and regretful glance toward the stairs, Morgan took her place at the King's side. Hearing Edward's laughter echo off the walls, she wished she could escape as he did, so free from their royal heritage.

“Show them in now,” Philip shouted to the guards at the doors. The doors slid open, welcoming a line of princes and their attendants as they made their way inside the castle walls.

Morgan tried to seem interested. She really did, but it was very difficult with the way the suitors walked. They all walked with a sense of purpose; she found it annoying, distasteful, even. Out of the few suitors there, none of them stuck out to her. All of them seemed the same, interested in only one thing. Power.

She doubted any of them actually wanted to be wed to her. The feeling would be entirely mutual.

I think they all just want the power that comes with being married to me. She thought bitterly. That's how it always is these days, all about rank and control. The war has driven the Empire mad for any kind of power available. Most days she just wanted to live the life of a peasant to escape all the greed, selfishness, and overwhelming sense of duty that came with her title. The duty, she felt, was not only to her Kingdom or the Empire, but to the Brotherhood. She had a job to do that couldn't be pushed aside.

“Presenting Prince Saul of D'avidia.” At a subtle nudge from Philip, she drug herself out of her thoughts, and looked up to see one suitor walking forward with head held high. The prince and his attendants were dressed in fine brown and dark green clothing. The first attendant, a young girl, brought forward a small silver box and set it down at the foot of the thrones before bowing. Lowering her head, she shuffled back beside the rest of the entourage.

“M'lady,” Prince Saul bowed deeply, first to Morgan, then to the King. Something about his voice seemed familiar to her, but unsettling in a way. Propping her chin up on her fist, she stopped paying attention after that. None of it felt worthwhile. Her gaze grew distant, her smile far from her eyes. More statue than human.

The rest of the night blurred together in waves of discomfort for her. First came the dancing, boring conversations with even more boring men amongst swirls of fabrics and jewels. She resented the night more with each new partner, with each fake laugh forced from her throat. Then came the feast, and several more bland conversations with the Suitors and drunken guards...

“The princess has grown tired and wishes to bid her guests a goodnight. She invites everyone to stay and enjoy the festivities as long as they'd like,” King Philip forced the words out with a smile. He threw a chilling glare in her direction as she stood and gave a curtsey. The smile of relief across her lips was her most genuine expression of the night.

She left the 'festivities' quickly and headed to her chambers to be alone. The palace was suffocating, and she wanted nothing more than to be outside in the fresh air. The guards outside her room dipped their heads in greeting as she approached. As she shut the door behind her, she heard the faint click of the lock falling into place from the outside. What a gentleman, Philip must be having him lock me in now. No matter, I have a window for a reason. She thought crossly. Her annoyance lay in the fact that Philip tried to limit her freedom at all. She'd always find a way around such trivial matters, but it showed how much he distrusted her. The ache in her chest hurt more than she would ever admit.

Sitting at her small writing desk, she pulled one of its drawers open and took out a map. Smoothing the map across the desk's surface, she took a handful of colored pins and marked where each of her suitors was from. It was the most thought she'd given them since they arrived. She figured if she had to marry one of them, she may as well do it in her own favor.

The princes were all from different kingdoms of the continent, most from the region of Valley Forge, except for one. Prince Luciack, from Shadow Mountain.

There were four kingdoms in Valley Forge, D'avidia, the smallest of the kingdoms. Cryshalla, the northernmost kingdom, and the most mountainous. Haven's Hold, the largest kingdom, home of the High King of Valley Forge. The last kingdom was Dallek, where she was now. Dallek sat on the Shadow Mountain border closest to the White City, the Capital of the Empire. Its location made it a great trading route for merchants passing through.

With a glance toward her bed at the untouched gifts of 'pretty' things from the suitors, she sighed. It was pointless, really. She didn't want to pick, wouldn't if she could help it.

“Uvalya, Smertia, hear my plea. Save me from this disastrous fate. Deliver me to a better life.” She muttered a prayer to the Deus. The people of Cyrillica revered the Deus, ten figures in all. Uvalya and Smertia had to do with change. Uvalya was the Deus of love, respect, and wishes. Smertia was the Deus of life, death, and change. She hoped, almost desperately, that her wish for change would be heard and she could escape the fate laid out for her since birth.

As she closed her eyes, a sense of calm washed over her, an otherworldly presence taking its place beside her. She knew if she looked, no one would be there, so she sat quietly for a few moments until the presence faded away. The sudden emptiness she felt became too much to bear, and she jumped up, needing to get away.

Pulling on her traveling cloak and hoping no one was outside at this hour, she goes to the window to pull it open. With a little triumphant smirk, she jumped and took off, running to the stable to grab her sword. Her sword became a comforting weight at her side as she made her way into the forest. It didn't take her long to get where she was going.

She climbed down into the sanctuary of the Brotherhood and heaved a sigh of relief. To be away from the castle after the dreadful dancing and snide comments from the King was all she could ask for. It was all she needed.

“I told you, she can't stay away from me,” Kylon's deep voice startled her, she whipped around to see him standing behind her. She winced, crossing her arms. He was the last thing she had wanted to deal with after everything else that night.

“Sure, if you really mean the sanctuary. I came to be away from the castle for a while,” she looked at him, then sighed as her shoulders sagged. All she felt was tired. He smiled and rested his arm on her shoulder. He was taller than she was, having to lean down to be at her level.

Even if he was annoying, it made her life interesting. Kylon was annoying, Xavier was shy and quiet, everyone else was just never there or she didn't see them because they were asleep. Though their group was small and dysfunctional, it was nice. Everyone was close, and some called it family. Others preferred not to say a word at all.

She was the youngest, though with the way some men acted, it didn't seem like it. They had fun, laughed, talked, and sometimes played games like small children. They made her feel welcome, even if they still treated her as a princess most of the time.

“Morgan! What a pleasure to see you,” The usually playful, anything-but-serious Anthony smiled and hugged her. She forced a smile, awkwardly patting his back.

“Hello, Anthony,” she gently pushed him away. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her with his deep blue eyes. She always thought they looked like the sky. His blonde hair was short, with bits of brown streaked in it like a cinnamon roll. He was certainly sweet enough to be one.

With a roll of her eyes, she headed off into her room. She didn't think she could take much more from the others. She was too tired, too on edge. Even if it was smaller and less grand than her bedroom in the castle, she liked it. Most of the members thought her crazy for liking the sanctuary more.

They didn't know what she went through there every day, though. It was torture for her. She loved Edward, but rarely had the chance to even speak to him for more than a moment. He seemed to think she was avoiding him. She couldn't even tell him otherwise without feeling guilty. She didn't try to, but something always seemed to pull her away. She always promised she'd give him more time, but it never worked the way she wished. It had been so long since she could spend time with him...