I stretch out gloriously in my soft bed as I awaken to the sounds of Mary adding wood to the fire keeping my room warm. I smile to myself because I remember that today is Saturna, aka Saturday, and that means no lessons today. Angus has promised to spend the entire day with me, and even agreed to take me on a short walk outside since the weather is starting to warm. It’ll be nice to get outside and get some fresh air for once, after all, being kept inside the keep gets kind of stuffy even with the work of a wind user working diligently to keep the smoke from the hearths and torches from building up too much.

  “Good morning, Milady!” Mary says cheerily as I see a dark blur bobbing in front of the warm glow of the fire.

  My vision continues to improve each day and I have started to be able to distinguish colors more easily coming from light sources. I can sort of see objects now, granted they appear as blurry blobs and have to be close to me otherwise nearby light sources block them out. My depth perception is practically nonexistent, but I’m sure that will improve with time, though the sooner, the better.

  “Good morning, Mary,” I reply, giving her a warm smile as I scootch over to the edge of my bed and swing my legs out in preparation to stand.

  I hear Mary rushing over to me, ready to catch me should I fall, but I wave her away.

  “I’m not made of porcelain; I can stand up just fine.” I chastise, making sure to keep to tone light so that she knows I’m not upset. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks I’ll break if left to my own devices.

  “Mary, I’ll need something a bit warmer today,” I inform her so that she can pick out the appropriate clothes for me. “Angus is going to take me out for a walk today.”

  “I know just the thing, Miss”

  I hear Mary humming to herself as she goes into my closet to gather up my outfit for the day. While she is doing that, I carefully stand, moving slowly because of the short drop from my bed to the floor due to my shorter height.

  Once safely on the floor, I walk around my bed, using my left hand to stay in contact with it, as I walk closer to the hearth to warm myself. Mary returns and places the clothes she has selected on the bed. She helps me out of my sleeping gown and aids me in getting dressed for the day. Once my clothes are situated, she guides me over to my dressing table and has me sit so that she can take care of my hair.

  “Since you are going out today, I thought I would put your hair up, if that is alright with you, Miss.” She says as she starts the task of brushing my hair.

  I nod in agreement and close my eyes, relaxing to the pleasant sensation of having my hair brushed. Minutes pass and before I know it, she is done. My head feels slightly off balance from what I am used to, probably because she normally just brushes my hair and leaves it down or ties it back with a ribbon. The feeling of having all my hair gathered onto my head instead of hanging naturally is an odd sensation, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it. I just wish I could see the work she has done.

  With my clothes and hair all done, Mary leads me downstairs to the dining room where I join my mother for breakfast. We mostly eat in silence, which has been the new normal since the fight we had a couple of days ago after my failure to properly pay attention in my etiquette lesson. Honestly, I feel like I was maybe a bit rude to her when I know that she is only making me take these lessons because she knows the knowledge is something I need considering my station, but it is just so ridiculous. That said, I am glad that she hasn’t punished me by restricting my ability to see Angus during his morning visits as some form of punishment over my behavior that evening.

  Why must we conform to archaic and ridged standards just because we are more privileged than most people?

  I sigh as I finish my plate and put my fork and knife down on the plate at an angle and place my napkin to the left of the plate in a small attempt to display that I had been at least somewhat paying attention to the lesson we had fought over. I don’t know if she noticed it though.

  Deciding I needed to do something to repair the damage I had done, I speak up.

  “Mother.” I said softly before clearing my throat and repeating myself louder.

  I hear her place her silverware down.

  “Yes Beira?” She asks.

  “I-I’m sorry.” I say, tilting my head down in shame.

  She says nothing as if waiting for me to continue.

  “I understand why you feel that etiquette t-training is so important, especially considering my relationship with Angus, and I will try to take it more seriously in the future.” I sigh again. “I know that you only care about it so much because you love me and want what’s best for me. I sorry for acting out the way that I did, and I’m sorry for calling you heartless. I was out of line.”

  Suddenly, I feel a hand caress my cheek. Glancing up, I see that the shape where she had been sitting is no longer there and there is someone in the chair beside mine now. I didn’t even hear her move.

  “Beira, I said much worse to my own mother when I was your age. I honestly was expecting more pushback from you because of how elementary some of the lessons I have you taking are, but you need to rebuild the foundations of your knowledge regarding what all is expected of you, both in your behavior as a noble and future princess. I know these lessons, especially the etiquette lessons, are very boring and rudimentary. And yes, I know Agatha Finnley can take the already dry subject of etiquette and make it even more painful to sit through than it should be, but she is also one of the best instructors on the subject.”

  She leans over and gives me a hug.

  “And thank you for apologizing.” She said, continuing. “I appreciate it.”

  She stands and gives me a soft kiss on the forehead. Behind me I hear the doors to the dining room open.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Now, you have a handsome young prince who is waiting to spend the day with you.”

  She helps me to stand as the world around me lights up with outlines of flame, causing me to smile. I see my mother, her shape lined with tiny flames, shaking her head and hearing her give a little half laugh. I reach out and give her a full hug.

  “Thank you for being my mother.” I whisper in her ear before turning away and walking to Angus who is standing in the doorway.

  As the doors shut behind us, he turns to me and comments that it seems like I had made up with my mother and I simply nod in response. He takes my hand and leads me through the halls to a large ballroom that looks all too familiar to me, even though it is empty and I can only see it clearly in the shapes made with his flames.

  I hesitate as he leads me to the large doors that lead out to the gardens. I can see the light of the sun streaming in through the large windows on either side of the door and I know logically that is going to be safe for me, but I hesitate none the less. Sensing my hesitation, Angus pauses.

  “Are you alright, Beira?” He asks, concerned.

  I realize I never told him about the nightmare regarding the night of the masquerade so I nod and lead him towards the doors with determination. Throwing the doors open, I am bathed in light which dominates my vision, turning the world white momentarily. As the glare fades, my sight takes on the now familiar blur of shadow and lights, just brighter. It is harder to see the landscape that Angus has outlined for me due to the brightness of the sun but regardless, I remember enough about the layout of the gardens from the dream that I am able to lead him to the bench that I, or rather the original Beira, had sat on that night.

  I softly pat the bench next me, motioning for him to sit.

  He sits and turns towards me. I reach out and take his hand that is closest to me. I tell him about the nightmare I had almost a full week ago and he listens intently as I recount it to him. Just like when I told my father, I try to gloss over the ending of the dream, but Angus begins asking me for more details until I have given him all the details about the last few moments of the dream. When he realizes he can’t get any more details from me, he grows silents and I can see that he has adopted a pose similar to that of The Thinker.

  I sit in silence as he mulls over my words, waiting for him to make the next move. Finally, he looks up at me.

  “Well, that explains a lot, including why the duke left so suddenly six days ago and why my father authorized the troops stationed in the area to patrol the area surrounding the city.” He says, sighing.

  I look at him inquisitively.

  “It sounds like you were on the receiving end of a Soul Drain.” He explains.

  I must have had a blank look on my face because he goes on to further explain.

  “Soul Drain is a ritual spell that utilizes both shadow magic as well as the soul magic that the elves who rule the kingdom of Westerroch to the north use. The ritual utilizes a gem that is empowered to draw the soul of the victim out of their body, completely draining it of its essence, leaving an empty shell behind that usually dies within a few hours afterward.” He looks thoughtful for a few minutes.

  “I-if that’s t-t-the case, why am I still alive?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

  “My guess would be that something interrupted the ritual.” He says, looking back at me. “It does explain your loss of memory as well as your inability to access your magic. Usually, Westerroch uses this ritual on spies and high priority enemies because once the victim is drained, the gem can be imbedded in the flesh of a willing subject to access the memories of the victim. As a side effect, the recipient of the gem also has the magical essence of the victim infused with their own essence, but it does burn off a portion of the gem bearer’s vitality shortening their life by thirty years and when the bearer dies, they become a wraith. For the latter reason, the elves don’t utilize the ritual often even though they live long enough that the drain on their vitality isn’t that noticeable. While they may have the ability to raise the corpses of the monsters in their nation, as well as those of their fallen enemies, they have no wishes to join the ranks of the undead.”

  “I thought their king was a lich, though.” I reply, drawing on some of the knowledge taught to me by my history tutor the previous day.

  “Yes, he is, but he isn’t undead.” Angus explains patently. “He is actually alive and survives by draining life essence from all of his subjects. All of the living in his kingdom are required to make a blood pact with him so that they continue to feed his unnaturally long life. This was one of the few reasonable reasons that my oldest brother listed when he rejected the hand of King Bandaerl’s youngest daughter, Princess Alestria, which led to the five year war between our two nations.”

  I look at Angus questioningly and asked, “’One of the few reasonable reasons’?”

  “Umm, he also gave the excuse that he would no longer be the kingdom’s most eligible bachelor were he to get married.” Angus answers, embarrassment creeping into his voice.

  “Okay then,” I said, slightly amused, the corners of my creeping up into a smile.

  We sat in silence for a moment when a realization hit me.

  “Wait,” I started, my voice taking a slightly higher pitch than my new normal, “If you’re the third p-prince and eighteen, the war ended six years ago and started five years before that… Just how old is your oldest b-brother?”

  “Oh, my oldest brother is actually eleven years older than me.” He replies with a chuckle before going on to explain. “My mother is my father’s second queen. My father married her four years after the second prince was born and his mother, the first queen, passed during childbirth.”

  “Oh.”

  “Apparently, when it was found out he was not only courting my mother, but seriously considering marrying her, there was a huge uproar because he already had two potential successors. But when it was found out that my mother was pregnant with my oldest sister, most of his dissenters shut up and approved his marrying her, if for no other reason to prevent further scandal.”

  “You have an older sister?” I ask, a little surprised because this was the first I had heard of her.

  “Ah, yes, Margaret. She is actually married to Prince Albert of the kingdom of Muirven. She lives in there, which is why you likely haven't heard anyone talk about her. To be honest, we don't get to see her that much since she got married.”

  I snickered.

  “What?” Angus asks, a hint of confusion in his voice.

  “P-prince Albert…” I pause giggling to myself, waiting for him to get it.

  “Yes, that’s his name. Albert Muir. He is the first prince and successor to the throne of Muirven. More importantly, he is the only prince of Muirven so the marriage to my oldest sister will form a strong bond between our kingdoms.” Angus says seriously, I can only vaguely tell how his brows are knitted as he explains due to the little flames he uses for me to be able to see my surroundings.

  Speaking of, I had asked him if his placing flames all over the place would cause a panic but he had assured me that not only did they produce minimum heat, they were also practically invisible. The fact that he can maintain them, illuminating roughly a fifty foot area around me that moved with me, without utilizing chants, spoke volumes about how much control he has.

  I must still have a smirk on my face because he asks again, trying to figure out what had amused me.

  “Never mind,” I say with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I’m n-not sure you would understand even if I explained.”

  He cocks his head to the side before clearing his throat.

  “Have you seen the changes the duke has made to the hedge maze?” He asks before slapping himself on the forehead with a loud smack. “No, of course you haven’t.”

  He sighs.

  “I guess the more appropriate question is, would you like to explore the new maze setup, or would that be too difficult for you, especially considering that nightmare you had.” He asks concerned.

  I look in the direction of the hedge maze which is just outside of the range of his flames, nothing more than a dark blur to my natural vision. Suppressing a shudder, I nod and tell him that I’m ok with exploring the maze.

  He stands and offers me his hand which I take.

  His hand is so much bigger and rougher than mine. I know my hands weren’t exceptionally large, but did they use to be rough like that I was male?

  I stand, and allow him to lead to lead me as we approach the maze.