A Forbidden Fate
To every person who screams when Mr. Darcy helps Lizzie onto the carriage and does his infamous hand flex…
This one's for you. Cheers.
World Map
Pronunciations
CHARACTERS:
Idalia: Eye-Doll-Yuh
Braizen: Bray-Zen
Lachlan: Lock-Lin
Rianne: Ree-Anne
Eveline: Eva-Lean
Cyra: Sigh-Ruh
PLACES:
Verdana: Ver-Don-Uh
Baelliles: Buh-Lie-Ills
Aeradian: Air-Uh-Dee-In
Idizina: Eye-Duh-Zeena
Author’s Notes
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
Death and Murder
Gore
Kidnapping
Thoughts of self harm
Religious Disputes
Mentions of intended assault
Adult language and Themes
Sexual Conduct
Alcohol and Drug Consumption
Table of Contents
World Map
Pronunciations
Author’s Notes
A Forbidden Fate
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Acknowledgements
A Forbidden Fate
Prologue
We flee the castle immediately, leaving everything we brought behind. My father pulls at my arm, yelling at me to get in the carriage. So many things are happening at once, and I can’t understand any of them. Adults scream in terror or angrily shout and block our way. I can smell their sweat mixed with the sweet, exotic perfumes they applied for the banquet. Servants careen into each other as some try to enter the great hall and others flee the scene.
Where is my father? He is no longer in front of me. He dropped my hand. I stumble across the cobblestone courtyard; my soft slippers slide on the wet stones. The screams and shouts gradually fade until I can only hear my heart pound and the anxious whines of the carriage horses as they sense our fear.
My father stands at the carriage door shouting at me to enter. I reach his side and gulp for air. Our outriders are all displaying their weapons and strain to hold their mounts in place until father and I enter the carriage. I cannot understand what my father is saying. He is babbling in some strange language and his eyes rake across my face, although he does not appear to see me. He is frightening me.
I place my foot on the first step and my father shoves me up the rest of the way. I look up.
Then I scream and scream.
Chapter One
Idalia
Present Day
Each time I see a dead body in the street, I want to burn Baelliles to the ground. And when another pile of emaciated corpses is hauled off to the Burial Ground, I remember the first pair of lifeless eyes I ever saw. My mother’s.
I don’t remember their color. Twelve years with her should’ve been enough time for me to savor such details, but time has a funny way of making us forget. Many memories of the dead elude my mind to make room for the living. Only two memories of my mother are forever preserved in my mind. The first is the sound of her ethereal voice as she sang to me each night. The second is her ashen face pressed against the marble.
Once, when I was young and full of adolescent self-regard, I asked my father which of my mother’s attributes I possessed. I desperately wanted to know. Were her eyes an endless brown like mine? Did she detest cold weather, too? I quickly learned that I should only ask him such questions if I were prepared to hear him rage about our war with the South Kingdom.
“They killed her! My precious Revna,” he’d fume of his Queen. “Murdered her in cold blood! The Braders are nothing more than ruby-covered snakes. They ensnare you with their charms and coax you with their deceit, and once you are close enough, they swallow you whole!”
Then after his rant, he’d call for his advisers and discuss possible attack strategies against Baelliles, even though our people know he’ll never strike first.
Verdana suffers. Verdana is weak.
Our army shields the river and sends scouts on suicide missions to find a way to break our enemy’s defenses. Still the people whisper. Still they chant. They crave Baelliles’ destruction, and no one craves it more than I.
“Lady Idalia, you must go to the oratory at once,” Nurse Lydia exclaims as she flies into my room.
I jerk upright in my bed, clutching the sheets over my bare breasts.
“Lady and Shield, Lydia! The moon is still out! What brings you to my chambers this early?”
She clicks her tongue, unfazed by my frustration, and pulls at the covers. “His Majesty insists upon seeing you. Immediately. He has important news. I don’t know any details beyond that.”
I groan and reach for my stolen bedding. Lydia easily thwarts my attempt. She balls more of the sheets into her fists and shakes her head.
“The King has ordered me to retrieve you. The message is urgent, so you should meet him with equal urgency! Would you really have me return to him empty-handed?”
“Inform him that I’m much too tired to venture as far as the oratory. Explain that I require a full night’s rest before receiving important news. Trust that he’ll be less than surprised to know I say so.”
My nurse scoffs. “Nonsense. He’ll never accept such a slothful alibi! I’ll ask you once more to get up. Should you refuse, I’ll be forced to resort to dire measures.”
I lift a vexed brow. “Just how dire?”
Nurse Lydia swats at my legs. Her thick, blond braid swinging in effort. “Get up! Get up from this bed at once!”
A laugh rolls up from deep within me as I throw both palms in the air in surrender. I should’ve known better than to think she’d give up easily. More of a parent than a handmaiden to me, she never cowers before my stubbornness. I sigh and admit defeat. Despite my best efforts, I’m up before the sun. As my eyes adjust to the sconce’s flickering candle, the weight of her message sinks in.
My father has never called a meeting this early, not even with his most loyal retainers. A wave of unease ripples through my gut.
My father has never called a meeting with me.
As I ascend the spiral staircase in the north spire, worry almost cripples my steps. My mind races to find any matter that requires my presence, at this hour, in the oratory. I come up short. So, I prepare for the worst and mumble a silent prayer to the gods. I approach the ornate wooden door framed in golden stone. Two sentries bow and open the door. One last deep breath and I cross the threshold.
My father, the King of Verdana, stands silently at the altar, his head lowered as he prays to the statues of the Lady and the Guard looming above him. I stop halfway up the aisle and lift my chin.
“Father,” I announce myself as solemnly as I can manage. “You called for me?”
A long moment of thick silence fills the space between us, and then he slowly lifts his face to the statues. “Yes, I have news. Something that requires your immediate attendance. Pray, forgive me for disturbing your sleep.”
“It must be of grave importance then,” I say, hiding the fear that threatens to glide off my tongue. “For you, above all, know how important my sleep is to me.”
He huffs a laugh of sorts, then faces me. “Just like your mother,” he says. He meets my gaze and half smiles.
I muster a weak grin, still mentally preparing myself for whatever harrowing news he’s about to announce.
He pivots and reaches for a packet, its crimson wax seal already broken. Red. Then it’s from Aeradian, the Deep Kingdom.
I’m unsure of what a message from that court could mean. Last year Aeradian’s king died in a hunting accident. We’d certainly been expected to attend his funeral. But with most of our army protecting the river, our vital trading route, it would’ve been almost impossible and irresponsible to gather enough men to protect us adequately. My father had decided it was not worth the risk. Despite that grim reason for a journey, I’d been excited at the prospect of leaving Verdana.
Our kingdom is beautiful. However, it’s bordered on three sides by treacherous mountains that make travel in any direction but south impossible. To travel south requires entering Baelliles, the South Kingdom, our enemy’s territory. Instead, to leave Verdana, we’re forced to take a perilous route through the Florian Wood that borders Baelliles on the west. And traveling through The Wood requires protection.
My father holds the contents of the packet high. “The gods have bestowed upon us a miracle, Idalia. King Lachlan’s wife has died of the Gray.”
“She died?” I exclaim, raising a hand to my throat.
“Yes! Is it not wonderful?” He beams as he waves the paper. “The gods have not forgotten Verdana! We are saved!”
King Lachlan, a name I’m still not used to. And his wife, the poor girl, was barely even twenty. Taken by such a vicious disease.
“Why are you not celebrating?” My father finally notices my distress.
“Why should I celebrate the death of anyone? Especially the wife of a dear friend?”
“You silly girl! Do you not understand? Lachlan is without a bride! He seeks to remarry!”
My breath halts. “Remarry?” As I repeat the word, it sounds foreign to my ears.
“Now, do you see why this is such joyous news?” he asks. “King Lachlan is remarrying, and he has asked for your hand.”
I stumble to the nearest bench and sit, rubbing my fingers deep into my temples.
“Lachlan has asked for me. But, no…. he wouldn’t,” I murmur in disbelief. “His father said he must marry a girl from Aeradian. He declared it so.”
“His father is dead,” my father interrupts. “As is the Aeradian girl his son married. So, it is of no consequence what he declared when he still walked the earth. Lachlan has requested you as his new bride. It should come as no surprise! The two of you were always friendly. Too friendly. I saw the desire in his stare when you were barely older than children! He has wanted you all his days but was forced to marry another while his father lived. But he is a king now, Idalia. The power lies with him.”
“If this is true, then it will seal an alliance with Aeradian,” I say slowly as the full import of my father’s words hits me. “They’ll be forced to take our side and will no longer stay neutral. They’ll fight with us against Baelliles.”
My father throws the paper into the air with a howl of celebration. He lowers himself to his haunches and places a hand on my knee.
“We will finally know the time of retribution. Your mother shall be avenged; Baelliles will fall,” he says.
And I will marry Lachlan, the Prince—no, the King—of Aeradian. I’ve seen him only a few times since we were children. I remember a sincere, soft-spoken, and humorous man. Though truthfully, what I best remember are his sage-green eyes. The way they brightened when he looked at me. The way they burned against his dark skin and vermilion clothes. Yes, I’ll gladly marry King Lachlan. I will save Verdana.
“Where will the marriage ceremony take place?” I ask as reality pulls me from my love-laced daydream.
“In Aeradian, as quickly as we can get you there. I will send you through the Florian Wood with a troop of our best men. It is worth pulling them from the river. Should you reach the Deep Kingdom and marry, we will no longer trouble ourselves with defense.”
“When do I leave?” Excitement and a growing trepidation about the dangerous journey bubble beneath my skin.
“We waste no time. You leave tomorrow.”
His answer propels a wave of nerves through my chest. Tomorrow? I’m to leave everyone and everything I know, marry, and be in my new home all before week’s end? Though I know, I’ll only safely reach Aeradian if Baelliles scouts aren’t swarming the Florian Wood.
Verdanians haven’t traveled that route in years due to the war. While it’s possible, it’s unlikely that Baelliles has positioned scouts on the road. I swallow hard and nod. A nod that signifies my acceptance. A nod that means goodbye.
“For the Lady and Shield,” my father intones.
“For the Guard and Sword,” I pledge back.
Chapter Two
Braizen
“How long are we to sit out here in this blistering heat?” Torrent complains as he wipes sweat from his brow and shakes his thick blond hair. I shoot him a look, one that suggests he stay quiet, but he throws up a careless hand. “Don’t start with me, Braze. You know I don’t care what you have to say.”
Against my better judgment, I laugh. He’s right. Torrent doesn’t care about what I have to say or what anyone has to say, for that matter. Ever.
He’s also right about the gods' damned heat. We’re used to waiting in the hot sun but are not accustomed to sitting still for so long. We’re all sweating and smell stagnant on this last day of summer, the day before the wicked cold pours from the north.
We’ve never trekked so deep into the Florian Wood. Childhood tales and some common sense have always proved warning enough. Terror supposedly lives within these trees.
Once again, I pat the pocket in my cloak and am comforted to feel the map of The Wood. It isn’t an entirely accurate chart of this place, but it’s as good as we’ve got.
“You know, Braizen, you could try pulling rank every once in a while. You’d do us all a favor if you’d shut the big oaf up,” Lin says as he stands and shakes the dirt from his rear. “We knew it would be a long mission. The waiting is half the battle. Keep blubbering on about how uncomfortable you are, and you risk sabotaging the entire assignment,” he says to Torrent.
Torrent grunts, rolling his hazel eyes at the jab. Lin is the careful, rational, albeit verging on annoying, one in our group. But this care has saved our asses more times than I can remember.