Love and Tenacity

Prologue

Annabelle Lee prided herself on getting to the bottom of things. Being someone who had been blind for most of her life, she had a keen urge to understand every facet of what happened around her. This being said, she had known for many years that her father’s rule over the Kingdom of Artemae was somewhat flawed. But that’s starting rather too far ahead in the story. As a matter of fact, the story started far before Annabelle, or her father, or her father’s father was born.

Artemae was a rather large nation with a rather large history. It was originally a coastal region ruled entirely by nymphs: small, old creatures with a strong connection to and desire for the land. They kept the land wild and remote for many centuries, but in a world where men exist, nothing remains untouched forever. Explorers from Sinder, the neighboring country to the south, forged a small road up through the vast forest to the coast. That small road became a large road with many branches, and on the road and its offshoots grew towns and cities. Not long after, perhaps a few hundred years, diamonds were discovered in the still virgin lands of Artemae. People flooded in from all around to find their fortunes, and from this sudden explosion grew a country with considerable wealth. The first ruler was King Aaron, crowned by his own money that had been gained from being one of the best and luckiest adventurers in the world. He began a string of strong leaders that governed a noble country. His wife was named Annabelle, from whom Annabelle Lee received her name.

As for the nymphs there, they went the way of most nymphs in that time. They were quite strong, human-like creatures, but the might of wealth and weapons drove them deeper into their own lands. The men under King Aaron were not afraid of or disgusted by the nymphs, they only fought them honorably and then allowed the nymphs the dignity of retaining at least some of their old soil. They never completely disappeared, but they faded greatly and remained only in resilient, deep Artemaen forests. To Annabelle Lee’s generation, they were merely distant memories, stories told before bed, punishments for bad little children.

Artemae was ruled in peace for many generations. The bloodline of the king was one of honor and intelligence, and its army grew large and well-equipped. Though corruption among nobles ran rampant in neighboring regions, Artemae remained honorable for far longer than any other nation. It was run by people hardened by adventure, raised in the raw reality of living in a place only barely tamed. But time went by, and the leaders became less rugged and more genteel. There were fewer explorers, and children were urged to stay away from the forests rather than play in them. Nymphs became enemies instead of ones to be respected, and shooting them down became sport rather than murder. Because of this, the nymphs retreated as deeply as they could into their forests and no longer allowed outsiders to trade with them. Knowledge of their culture was either lost or twisted in the years that followed, and the Kings were less than charitable in their dealings with them.

In the centuries that followed, corruption grew in Artemae as dark powers began to coalesce in the North. Raiders came down the coast, looting and burning villages with less and less resistance. The Kings of Artemae and Sinder became weaker and weaker, and they allowed these dark forces to influence their rule. This came to a head in Annabelle’s time, unfazed by any attempts of honest men to hold on to the honor of the past. It took not the efforts of powerful men, but the efforts of a young woman and her allies to take a stand against a wave of destruction and malcontent that threatened her beautiful nation. Her grey, cloudy eyes saw the future more clearly than those of her father, and the blood of one hundred great Kings who had lived before her remained, dormant, in her body.

Chapter 1

The last thing Annabelle saw was a pair of bright green eyes. She had been eight years old and very sick, writhing with fever in her vast bed while healers from all over Artemae and the lands beyond fretted around her. Their remedies were not working, and they were losing her more and more each day. She did not appear to be poisoned, nor ill with any common sickness, nor injured in any way. And yet she burned hotter each day, her face became snow white, and her eyes grew dimmer as her cheeks grew brighter.

Mary, a young maid known to Annabelle as Desiree, had seen that there could be no help from any of these strange people the King summoned, and her agile mind sought a different solution. She recalled someone she had met long ago, a healer who had a polarizing reputation. She remembered Ember Mae, a supposed witch who had saved her life a few years back when she was a young girl without a home. The woman had sheltered her from a storm and later smuggled her into the castle in Mulciber, straight into the chamber of the King. That had been Desiree’s first exposure to royalty, and though she remembered very little for she was exhausted and confused at the time, she knew that somehow Ember was responsible for securing a place for her as a minor maid and a playmate for his daughter. She had not seen Ember since then, but she had heard of her from nobles and maids alike. Ember was said to be a recluse who lived near a small village in the east of Artemae, and though she was rarely seen, she was known as one of the greatest healers the country had ever been blessed with. Why the King had not summoned her already Desiree did not know, and she did not care enough for him or his decisions to find out. She took it upon herself to ride out towards Levamen and find the witch herself, uncowed by her reputation in the face of Annabelle’s almost certain death.

She took a horse and rode alone from Mulciber at the age of eleven, travelling through the night and into the next day before she came to the outskirts of the quaint village. Drained by exhaustion and worry, she managed to find Ember in a tavern with the help of a little local girl and convinced her to come to the castle to help. Desiree could barely remember what she had said, this being several years ago and Desiree being young and very scared at the time, but she remembered that Ember was considerably less intimidating than many had led her to believe. Ember seemed to recognize her from their first meeting, and she took Desiree onto her horse and rode them back to Mulciber with impossible speed. True to her reputation, she seemed to have an immediate idea of what ailed Annabelle, though she was not quick to share it with the other healers. They seemed too wary of her presence to ask her much anyhow.

Ember pulled Annabelle back from the brink with a mixture of herbs and magic that Desiree was unfamiliar with, but for all her knowledge, she had no way of saving Annabelle’s eyes. She had later told the king that each person only had a certain amount of life energy within them and Annabelle’s was fading fast, so she had to take the energy that would have given her sight and direct towards her failing heart. Desiree, still near exhaustion after barely having slept for the entire ordeal, was beyond grateful. The King, on the other hand, was less than impressed, and demanded that Ember leave before Desiree had a chance to thank her. That was the last time Desiree saw Ember for some years.

Now, ten years later, Annabelle sat at her window overlooking the coast and imagined what the waves would look like. She could hear them crashing thunderously into the side of the cliff on which the Castle at Mulciber resided. The smell of salt and water drifted up to her and she inhaled deeply, loving the feeling of the cool breeze hitting her face. She sensed no light out the window and determined that the skies were dark and stormy. Her shoulders were tense, her back straight, lightning illuminating her silhouette to the figure at the door.

Desiree, now twenty-one years old, stepped quietly though the doorway and sat on the bed, facing the window. The ocean breeze blew through the wind, toying with her fiery red-blonde hair. Blue eyes as dark as the waters below watched Annabelle calmly.

“You have known for years that you would have a hard choice to make, Quinn,” she said. “Did you really think he would choose you as his heir? There has not been an unmarried Queen of Artemae for hundreds of years, and he knows that you will not follow his path. My heart goes out to you, my friend, but you must decide. Can you stay here and see your country fall apart? You are not stupid, you know he will not turn from corruption at the end of his life, and you know as well that your cousin is no better.”

Annabelle did not turn from her place on the windowsill. “Am I any better than him if I take matters into my own hands?” she pondered, her voice quiet. “He is allowing raids on our coasts, he allows his own people to die, but if I do what you counsel then I will be ordering a person’s execution.”

“I know, Quinn, but you will be saving so many lives through it. I do not think you can bear sitting here in this gloomy place watching your cousin drive your people into the ground because he does not have the spine to fight against Alsius.” Desiree’s voice grew slightly louder. “You have been given the title of the People’s Princess, their lives depend on your strength of will. It is not easy protecting your people. Sometimes you have to compromise your own morals for the greater good.”

Annabelle dropped her head back against the stone sill and shut her eyes. Her muscles were coiled like a spring, Desiree could see it under her loose grey dress. She hated putting Annabelle under such stress, but she knew what would happen when Annabelle’s father died and her cousin took over. Oliver Lee was known for being callous and weak-willed. Desiree didn’t know much about politics, but she knew that there was some figure or figures north of Artemae in Alsius that were manipulating nobles on the Council of the King to allow raids from the seaside. Besides allowing the death of hundreds of innocent people and the pillaging of villages, the nobles had also let bounty hunters take over law-enforcement in the country, allowing the once powerful watcher system fall into ruins. The watchers were supposed to patrol the lands, spot crimes, and bring the guilty to the town councils for trials. They only went to the bounty hunters if a suspect ran before they could be arrested, but anymore, the bounty hunters were hunting whomever they pleased. Though Desiree did not know the details, she had a vague recollection of hearing that there was some small form of civil war going on between the remaining watchers and rogue bounty hunters. Reliable couriers had become hard to find as well, most of them now susceptible to bribes.

The tense silence was broken when there were four quiet knocks on the open door. Desiree turned and looked; Annabelle did as well, though a bit too far to the left. It was Scott, or Sir Watson to the rest of the Mulciber. Scott served as Annabelle’s link to the outside world, as most of the information she gained from her father was biased in his own favor. Annabelle recognized the smell of leather and metal that came from his light armor and saddle. He had just returned from a long journey.

“What’s happened?” she asked sternly. He bowed slightly to the slim, dark-haired woman in the window, though he knew she didn’t see it, and replied, “There’s been another raid, my lady. We heard via courier that Bearce was being attacked this time. By the time our soldiers arrived, half the city had been burned to the ground.”

Desiree drew in a quiet breath and closed her eyes, bowing her head. Annabelle’s gaze remained fixed on the origin of Scott’s voice. “How many dead?” she asked quietly. “Over two hundred, my lady,” he replied. “All we could do was try to save the rest of the city and help them collect their dead.” Annabelle squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her face in her hands. “Thank you, Scott,” she mumbled, and he bowed again and left quickly, closing the door behind him. As soon as he left, Desiree moved to sit next to Annabelle and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Annabelle leaned into her embrace, resting her forehead on the redhead’s collarbone. They sat like that for a while, Annabelle holding back her tears and Desiree staring at the stormy sea below. She could barely see them anymore; night was coming, and the only light came from the candles in the dim room behind her.

Annabelle could feel Desiree’s heart beating hard. She knew the news of the recent deaths added weight to both their shoulders. Her world was closing in around her. In another room in the castle, her father lay ill but content in his decision to deny his daughter the crown. Any hope that he would see the suffering of his people and change his mind was gone without a trace, and there was nothing she could do about it from inside Mulciber. She knew what Desiree wanted her to do. Her young maid and dear friend was of the opinion that Oliver rising to the throne would mean the end of Artemae. The few honorable nobles would be wiped out, and the country would fall into darkness like Sinder below it. The last bright spot in the darkness of the West would be gone, and more importantly, her people would suffer. Annabelle may not have been well-travelled, but she loved all of the men and women in her country, poor or rich, tradesmen or farmers. She allowed peasants into the castle to meet with her, though she didn’t have much power over the laws, and the people had a certain fondness for their princess. Those same people would suffer if she did not step in.

“This cannot happen anymore,” she said tearfully. “I cannot bear it. For the good of my people, this must end. I will do whatever it takes.”

Desiree looked over the princess’ shoulder to the sky beyond. Clouds rolled in, and thunder boomed in the distance. A storm was coming to Artemae.