Sixteen years later, in the heart of the palace garden, a young girl stood beneath dappled sunlight filtering through the tall , swaying trees. The garden was alive with vibrant colours, roses in full bloom that lined the marble pathway, their sweet scent mingling and butterflies danced above the blossoms . It was a sanctuary of calm, hidden behind the palace walls.
There, in the centre of it all was Tyra.
She wore a flowing yellow dress with delicate silver embroidery that shimmered in the sunlight. Her sandals matched perfectly. Her hair, long and glossy was tied up in two elegant buns secured with crimson ribbons. Tyra's features were striking, smooth fair skin, dark almond shaped eyes that held a quiet depth, long thin lashes. Her lips were full and naturally red like fresh rose petals.
But the most distinguishing feature was the mark that ran from her cheek bone to her jawline, a thin, pale line that seemed etched by faith. It gave her a mysterious beauty, setting her apart from the other girls in the court. Despite it , or perhaps because of it, Tyra carried herself with quiet confidence. She laughed easily especially when with her closest companions, her constant partners in mischief - Rachel and Isadore, daughters of noble families in the palace.
" Tyra, do you want to become a maid to the Queen or get married off to one of your suitors?"
Isadore asked while playing with the butterflies. She and Rachel always asked each other, they ended up changing their plans for the future each time they were together.
"Tell us Tyra what fate would you choose." Rachel asked.
"It would always be the same. I want to be a soldier when I grow older, to be among the bravest that would end the battle between Havans and the Mikites, to protect the kingdom from her enemies."
They both laughed.
"That's so boring Tyra and you are just a young delicate maiden having impossible dreams. Have you ever heard of a maiden becoming a....". She cut Rachel off and held her waist with both hands squinting her eyes, pretending to be angry . "Oh, so I am the one with impossible dreams now , what about you two?"
Rachel and Isadore left the butterflies and running towards Tyra, hugged each other tightly and screamed ."We want to get married to the prince." They began spinning in a circle holding hands and giggling faintly.
"Oh he his sooooo handsome, with the fairest skin, his long hair, very tall with the broadest shoulders ever and his voice, as sweet as honey..." Isadore said with the widest smile ever while closing her eyes and imagining the features of the Prince.
Rachel stopping the spin placed her right hand on her forehead like she was falling into a daze and spoke softly. "Oh how I dream of him every night will be the death of him." Isadore caught her while she was falling playfully and they both laughed. Tyra laughing so hard folded and arms and wondered if they would be willing to share the prince or even worse, if they would be chosen by the Prince.
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In the woods, the trees were still damp from the early morning mist, droplets clung to leaves glistening like tiny gems. Yet above the trees, the sun beamed brilliantly through the canopy brightening every corner of the forest. It was the perfect time to hunt. Behind a large oak tree, half- concealed in the shadows stood a young man. His breath was steady, his eyes focused. He loaded his crossbow, the creak of the mechanism barely louder than a whisper. Just ahead, a deer stepped continuously into view unaware of the silent figure watching from behind the trees.
He shifted slightly, light catching in his chestnut brown long hair that rested on his shoulders. His features were sharp and clean- his thick eyebrows, his jaw was strong and well defined, his thin lips that almost blended with his tanned skin and his amber eyes, sharp and alert seemed to take in everything thing yet revealed nothing. He didn't speak yet the forest seemed to be listening. He released the arrow but missed his target when he was hit.