***
Sunlight streamed into the palace in the very early hours of the morning, curling through the hallways like a bright-eyed snake whose mission was to rouse everyone from their slumber.
It moved silently throughout the stark and cold halls of Castle Niveus, but everywhere it fell the sound of people stirring from sleep would follow. Servants came alive immediately, realising that this wasn't just another ordinary day. This was a significant day, and their chores would have to be done with an exaggerated level of finesse today.
Only one room in the palace remained firmly opposed to the day. Tucked away in the northern tower, in a dark room of muted colours and lifeless art, princess Diana laid on her bed and stared up at the canopy with a crestfallen expression. One look at her, and it would become very obvious that she wished the morning never came. Surrounded by loving artworks, none of their beauty had any effect on her as she tried not to think about the horrible situation she was in.
She was a work of art herself, the most beautiful woman in Verena, as the songs always described her. Golden hair framed her face and fell right down to the small of her back, and the highest cheekbones anyone had ever seen. Her bright golden eyes were her most prominent features, and in them was a shimmering light which had driven men to insanity. Those who had seen her would never forget her, and those who hadn't would only dream of the day they would.
A frail figure, small waist and breasts which were sculpted by the gods completed the rest of her frame. It wasn't just the beauty that made her the object of everyone's desires however. It was the intellect, and the fact that she was probably the smartest person in the castle, her wit unprecedented and her sharpness of mind unparalleled.
Which was why, she believed, that if she told them something then they ought to listen. She might not be the ruler of Verena yet, but in all her years she had never once given advice which turned out to be foolish. Her seat at the council was secured at the tender age of twelve, and she had held onto it with grace and dignity ever since, outsmarting most of the old bats that sat there and deluded themselves with the belief that they were smarter than she was.
Chief amongst them was Lord Varly, the oldest and perhaps the most difficult one of the bunch. The ceremony which Diana dreaded above all else was most likely suggested by him. This wouldn't be the first time that he had tampered with the law just to make her realise that he was just as powerful as she was; perhaps even more so.
Diana rolled over in bed and groaned. Dejection was not an emotion that she was characterised with, but lately it seemed that was the only feeling she knew. She could not remember this sort of sinking feeling, the weight on her chest threatening to crush her. She didn't want to imagine what would happen once she was forced to head downstairs, to stand in front of hundreds of people and declare the one thing she dreaded above all else.
A knock came on the door just then, three short rasps which immediately told her it was one of her maids. She had instructed them to employ that technique when they came knocking, so she would know even at night that it was one of them at the door and not some assassin who had come to murder her in her sleep.
"Enter," she said, unable to even keep out the boredom in her voice.
Maria walked in with her head bowed, and a crimson dress in her hands. "Good morning, your highness," she said. "It's a very beautiful morning, actually. The sun is out, and the birds are frolicking about in the gardens. I'm sure you would want to schedule a walk after your bath and breakfast."
"That won't be necessary," Diana said. "I am not entirely in the mood for a walk today."
Maria paused at the doorway, completely shocked by the princess's statement. She had known Diana since birth, and there had never been a day where she willingly turned down the opportunity for a walk. Always so high-spirited, she could never sit still even for a few minutes. But today, there was a gloom about her as she laid spreadeagled on the bed and stared silently at the canopy overhead.
"Is something wrong, your highness?" Maria asked. "You seem a bit moody today."
"Really?" Diana asked with one eyebrow raised in a sneer. "I hadn't even noticed. Allow me to don my mask of enthusiasm for the day."
Maria said nothing. She simply stood there and waited for a few seconds, until Diana realised her mistake and she looked up at her apologetically.
"I'm sorry," she said. "That was out of line."
"What has gotten into you?" Maria asked as she sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at Diana. "Are you nervous because of the ceremony?"
"How would you feel if you were in my shoes?" Diana asked. She propped herself up on her elbows, and she stared eagerly at Maria as she waited to hear some life-changing information.
"To be honest, I don't know how I would feel," Maria said finally, which immediately caused Diana's heart to sink. "I understand that you are nervous about choosing a husband, but you should have known this day was coming eventually. I know it seems like the time has come too soon, but I assure you that you are ready to take this step."
"How can you be so sure?" Diana asked. "Whoever I choose as a husband, it's not just going to be for myself. I need to find a suitable man who can be respected as the future King of Verena. What if I make the wrong choice?"
"There are no wrong choices in matters of the heart," Maria said, to which Diana scrunched up her nose. She didn't trust her heart even a little bit. Right now, it was telling her to throw a cloak over her shoulders and flee the castle. It was telling her to turn her back on the crown and flee, for reasons which it could not clarify.
"Why can't I remain unmarried?" Diana asked finally, looking up at Maria. "Why can't I rule the kingdom alone? I don't need a man to stand by my side and take all the credit of my hard work. I don't need a man to make me feel validated. I have been taught how to bear the responsibilities of the crown ever since I was a little girl. I can do this on my own, without a man to tell me what to do."
"The law states that you must marry," Maria said, as though that should make the case moot.
"The law was created by men who wanted to ensure that they would always have a hand on the throne," she said. "Why should a couple of dead men tell me how I'm supposed to live my life?"
"You're afraid of men?"
"I'm afraid of being forced to submit to a man," she confessed.
Maria shook her head as she said, "You're mistaken, Princess. No one will ever force you to submit to a man. Even though your future husband will become the King of Verena, you will still be the one who sits on the throne. You will still be the one who sits at the council meetings and makes all the decisions. Even though he will be a part of the council, he will still be a subordinate to you. Your people will never choose someone else over you."
Diana rather liked the phrase 'your people'. It made it seem like she had her own cult of devoted followers, who would do anything make sure that her life was not turned into a living nightmare. It brought a sense of togetherness between her and the people, even though she had been shielded from them ever since she was born. Their relationship was from afar, with the commoners adoring their beloved princess and Diana admiring the people who made her feel important, as though she had a place in the chaos of the world.
"I still don't want a man," Diana said vehemently.
"Would you prefer a woman instead?" Maria asked with a smirk, earning her another scowl from Diana.
"I would prefer to be left alone to my devices," she said.
"Unfortunately, we do not live in a society like that," Maria said. "A world without laws would descend into anarchy and chaos. It is your duty to ensure that the peace is kept, your highness. No one else can bear this responsibility if not you."
"I know," Diana sighed. "But sometimes I wish the crown never fell to me. "
"Destiny has a funny way or working," Maria said as she stood up. "Now, shall we get you ready for the day? It is going to be a grand ceremony after all."
"Don't make me vomit," Diana rolled her eyes as she slid off the bed. "Let's just get this over with."
—
Deep in the catacombs of the palace, with a single torch between them, Lord Varly and Lady Myra stood with their heads brought together. Such was the nature of their conversation that it needed to be held here, where even the air felt dead and decayed. Lord Varly was the first one who realised that the catacombs was the safest place to meet if they wanted to have a proper conversation.
"Did you bring what I asked?" he asked. The light of the torch cast frightening shadows over his round face, with a fat nose and small, watery eyes. He was not particularly tall, and he seemed to have opted to grow horizontally so that his belt just about managed to keep his robust belly from spilling out of his tunic.
Lady Myra, on the other hand, was a symbol of beauty even though her heart was the blackest in the land. With a long stretch of soft black hair on her head, silver eyes and high cheekbones which looked like they were cut from glass, many men had been driven to lust for the lady of the court, but her sights were set not on the squabbling men who were all trying to gain favour with her, but rather on the greatest prize in the entirety of Verena.
The throne.
She produced a small vial from the sleeve of her robe, which she handed to Lord Varly. He inspected the liquid inside, a thick and venomous green which bubbled as though it were placed above an open flame.
A wicked smile curled his lips, and he sensed that their victory was close; so close that he could almost taste it.
"You're sure this will work?" Lady Myra asked.
"Without a shadow of a doubt," he replied. "If the king dies, no one will look to us because we do not stand to gain anything in return. Their eyes will look towards the one person who stands to gain something from all this."
"Diana," she said with a smirk of her own.
"Precisely," he said. "And after the Princess is executed for mutiny, then who else will the throne fall to?"
"I love the way your mind works, Varly," she said as she placed a hand on his chest seductively. "But what about the council?"
"Leave them to me," he said, his eyes flashing with a madness which Lady Myra had seen enough times to know what it meant. His thirst for blood was insatiable, and she imagined that he would never stop even after he ascended the throne. Which was why, secretly in her heart, she had taken some steps of her own to ensure that once the deed was done, and both King Stefan and Princess Diana were out of the picture, Lord Varly would follow soon after. As for the council, all of them wanted to bed her, so there was no issue there. She would find a way to manipulate them into doing her bidding.
One would never have imagined that so much plotting and scheming would be going on within the walls of castle Niveus. A scheme within a scheme, and both of them left the catacombs with the full assurance that their plan was already in motion, and soon the King of Verena would fall.
If only they knew the darkness that was coming for all of them, then perhaps they would have altered their plans to save the kingdom, rather than destroy it. For at that same moment, a thousand miles north of the capital, in a dark cave which had never witnessed the light of the sun, the demon-king Draco stirred from his slumber.
***