Page 4 of Ashes and Glass (Cursed Kingdoms)

Prince Marius

The coolness of water whispered against my skin, a familiar caress that spoke of untapped depths and flowing strength. I stood at the edge of the secluded training grotto, watching ripples spread from my fingertips in perfect concentric circles. Each droplet resonated with my pulse—an extension of my very essence rather than a separate entity to be commanded.

In the weeks since my awakening to water magic, under Sir Gareth's watchful guidance, my command had grown exponentially. Where once there had been errant splashes and unpredictable surges, now existed a harmonious dance of ebb and flow. I had learned to shape water to my will, weaving it into forms both delicate as morning dew and formidable as storm-driven waves. Pride swelled within me as I coaxed a serpentine stream to spiral around my arm, its crystalline body catching sunlight in prismatic brilliance.

Yet even as my confidence in my abilities grew, a thread of unease pulled at the edges of my mind. Whispers had reached my ears, carried on the same winds that brought tales of distant lands. Prince Casimir was passing through Rivendale on his way to Elaria, seeking an audience with Lady Belladonna, whose ambitions were as notorious as her name.

The thought of their potential alliance sent a chill through me—colder than the deepest ocean abyss. Together, their thirst for power could rival the mightiest rivers, and if left unchecked, they would surely seek to engulf Rivendale in their flood. Water responds to pressure, Sir Gareth had taught me. Any vessel, no matter how strong, will eventually crack under sufficient force.

I released the water from my control, watching it splash back into the grotto pool. I could not allow fear to take root; I needed to stay focused and resolute. The knowledge of their potential collusion spurred me onward, fueling my dedication to master the magic that surged within my veins. If the Prince of the Black Desert and the Widow of Elaria sought to use their powers for domination, then I would harness mine for protection of my beloved kingdom.

"Your Highness," a voice called from the shore, pulling me from my reverie.

Startled, I turned to face Sir Gareth. His weathered features were arranged in an expression of concern, no doubt reflecting my own inner turmoil. We were of one mind when it came to the welfare of Rivendale.

"Sir Gareth," I greeted him, stepping up onto the damp grass of the riverbank, feeling earth solidify beneath my boots after hours in the water. "What news?"

"Scouts have confirmed it," he said gravely, his gaze locked with mine. "Prince Casimir has been spotted crossing the border into Elaria with his entourage. He brings gifts of considerable value and a contingent of his elite guard—no doubt seeking to impress Lady Belladonna with the full display of his kingdom's might."

A knot formed in my stomach, the implications of his words weighing heavily upon me. Casimir, with his cunning and resources, combined with Belladonna's strategic brilliance and established power—should they join forces, they could wield a devastation that might very well overshadow the nascent strength of my own magic.

"Have we any allies we can call upon?" I asked, the strategic part of my mind already racing through possibilities and alliances that might counteract this new threat.

"Several," Sir Gareth replied, stroking his silver-streaked beard thoughtfully. "But alliances are fragile things, Your Highness. Treaties written on parchment can burn as easily as they were signed. It would be wiser to show potential friends that Rivendale is not only strong but also united under a leader who wields great power."

"Then I shall continue to hone my mastery over water," I said, determination setting my jaw. "I will become the bulwark against which their ambitions will break."

"Agreed," he nodded, approval flickering in his eyes. "But remember, power alone does not inspire loyalty or unity. You must also be a symbol of hope for your people—a king who commands not only the elements but also the hearts of his subjects."

I gazed across the tranquil surface of the grotto, watching how sunlight danced upon the ripples. Water adapts to any vessel, takes the shape of whatever contains it. Perhaps kingship was not so different—filling the needs of one's people, conforming to the shape required by the moment.

"Let us return to the castle," I suggested, feeling urgency propelling me forward. "We must prepare, for if Casimir and Belladonna forge their alliance, we must be ready to respond."

Sir Gareth nodded gravely. "And you, my prince, must be at the forefront of that response."

As the castle gates closed behind us, sealing off the chill evening air, I felt the weight of impending conflict settle upon my shoulders. The echo of our boots on stone filled the corridor as we walked in contemplative silence. We stopped at the foot of the spiraling staircase that led to the tower chambers, where grand strategies were often devised under the watchful eyes of my ancestors' portraits.

Sir Gareth's penetrating gaze met mine. "Speak your mind, Marius," he prompted, reading the tension in my posture.

With a deep breath, I voiced the thought that had been gnawing at me since we left the grotto. "If Casimir and Belladonna are indeed gathering strength to challenge us, we must act swiftly. I am ready to ascend the throne now, to send a sign to our enemies and allies alike—proof of my power and readiness to rule."

Sir Gareth considered my words, his weathered brow furrowed in thought. The silence stretched between us, laden with unspoken worries and the gravity of kingship.

"Your progress with water magic is indeed remarkable," he acknowledged, his voice carrying genuine pride in my development. "And yes, a display of strength could deter our adversaries. However, there is an aspect of rulership that requires more than raw power or mastery of the arcane."

I listened intently, absorbing his counsel as I had done since childhood, yet impatience flickered within me like a flame resisting the damp. My fingers twitched at my sides, a subtle manifestation of the restlessness surging through me.

"Then tell me, Sir Gareth, what must I do?" My voice carried an edge of urgency. "If there is a task that stands between me and my right to rule, name it. I will undertake it without hesitation."

"Before you can take your place as king," he said, the deliberate pace of his speech underscoring the significance of his next words, "there is a matter of utmost importance that needs addressing. It concerns not just your reign, but the future stability of Rivendale itself."

His cryptic response left me restless, yearning for clarity. Every fiber of my being was prepared to fight, to protect, to prove myself worthy of the crown that awaited me. Yet it seemed there was still some lesson to be learned, some trial to be faced beyond battlegrounds and council rooms.

"Tell me, Sir Gareth," I pressed, the echo of our solitary audience wrapping around us in the empty corridor. "What is this vital task you speak of?"

He met my gaze squarely, his blue eyes reflecting a resolve that matched the steel of his sword—a resolve I knew I must emulate if I were to fulfill the role fate had carved out for me.

"Patience, young prince," he counseled with a firm nod. "All will be revealed in due time. For now, rest and gather your strength. Tomorrow's light will shine upon new challenges, and you must be ready to rise to them—as a leader and as a man destined to wield not only magic but the very essence of kingship."

The conversation lingered in my mind as we parted ways, his footsteps fading into the distance while I ascended the tower stairs alone. A sense of solemnity washed over me, as vast and enigmatic as the ocean that seemed to flow through my veins.

Dawn's light filtered through stained-glass windows, casting a mosaic of colors that danced across the stone floor of the great hall. I stood before an aged tapestry that depicted the lineage of Rivendale, studying the threadbare images of kings and queens who had ruled with wisdom and valor before me. Their faces were woven into history, silent witnesses to the passage of centuries. Soon, I would be among them—not just a footnote in the annals of time, but a ruler whose decisions would shape the kingdom for generations to come.

"Your Highness," Sir Gareth's voice pulled me from contemplation. "The time has come for us to converse on matters of the utmost gravity."

I turned to face him, noting the formal set of his shoulders and the solemn expression he wore. Whatever he had withheld yesterday was about to be revealed.

"Sir Gareth," I said, my voice steady despite the anticipation coiling within me. "You spoke of a challenge that awaits me—a precursor to my official ascension. What is it that I must do?"

He approached, his boots sounding like a ceremonial drumbeat against stone. Stopping before me, he clasped his hands behind his back, his posture the epitome of knightly decorum.

"To rule is to unite," he began, his tone anchoring my attention. "Not only lands but hearts as well. A king must not only wield power but also embody the unity of the kingdom."

I nodded, understanding the weight of his words. Unity was the lifeblood of a strong realm, the bond that held together the fabric of nations even when threatened from without.

"Before you can take the throne," Sir Gareth continued, his gaze unwavering, "there is one more step you must undertake. You must choose a consort, an equal to stand beside you. You must take a wife."

The declaration struck me like a thunderbolt, sudden and electrifying. I found myself momentarily wordless, the concept so unexpected that it seemed almost absurd. The responsibility of a kingdom already weighed heavily upon my shoulders—now, the prospect of a queen, a partner in life and rule, loomed before me like an uncharted sea.

"A wife?" My voice betrayed a hint of incredulity as I paced away from the tapestry. The faces of my ancestors seemed to watch with renewed interest.

Sir Gareth nodded solemnly. "A queen will stand by your side, offering counsel and strength when burdens grow heavy. She will be the mother of heirs, securing the lineage and future of Rivendale. She will be a symbol of prosperity and harmony to our people—and perhaps most crucial in these uncertain times, her union with you could forge alliances to strengthen our position against looming threats."

I raked my fingers through my hair, mind racing with implications. I had always known marriage would be part of my destiny, yet it had remained a distant thought, overshadowed by more immediate concerns of mastering my magic and preparing for leadership.

"Is this truly necessary now?" I asked, stopping to face him again. "Can I not first prove my worth as a sovereign before binding myself to another?"

"Your worth is not in question, Marius," Sir Gareth replied with a firmness that brooked no argument. "But a king does not stand alone. He is the pinnacle of a network of alliances and loyalties. A marriage will forge bonds that fortify our position, especially now when threats loom at our borders."

I considered his words, the logic irrefutable. Casimir's shadow lingered over Rivendale, and Lady Belladonna's potential allegiance to him threatened the delicate balance we had maintained for generations. A strategic marriage could indeed become the shield that safeguarded our realm.

"Who then?" The question emerged from a place of both curiosity and concern. "Is there a maiden in mind whom you believe would serve Rivendale well as queen?"

"Several potential matches have been considered," he said, his expression softening slightly. "Noblewomen of character and lineage who would bring honor to the throne. But the choice, ultimately, is yours to make."

I walked to the high windows, gazing out over the kingdom that stretched before me—verdant fields, the gleaming river that carved through our lands, villages where my people went about their lives trusting in my protection. Water seeks its own level, finds its natural course. Perhaps in this, too, I needed to trust the flow of destiny.

"Then let us begin," I resolved, turning back to Sir Gareth with newfound determination. My heart may have yearned for love—the kind sung by minstrels and scribed in tales—but my first devotion was to my people. If a strategic union could protect them, then I would embrace it wholeheartedly.

"Very well," Sir Gareth acknowledged, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "We shall convene the council and set forth the considerations for your betrothal."

I stared at the tapestry once more, at the faces of kings and queens who had faced similar decisions throughout history. Some had married for alliance, others for advantage—but the strongest rulers had found not just political gain but partnership in their unions. An idea began to form in my mind.

"We shall hold a ball," I declared, the words surprising even me with their certainty. "Invite every eligible maiden from all kingdoms far and wide, noble or common-born. If I am to select a queen, I wish to assess not merely their lineage but their character—to find one who might be not just a political advantage but a true partner in ruling."

Sir Gareth's eyebrows raised slightly, but a slow smile spread across his face. "An unusual approach, Your Highness. But not without merit. Such an event would also demonstrate Rivendale's confidence and openness—qualities that might give pause to those who plot against us."

"Then it is decided," I said, feeling a strange mix of trepidation and anticipation at the prospect. "Send the invitations at once. In three weeks' time, I shall meet my potential bride."

"Choose wisely, Marius," Sir Gareth intoned, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that bore into my very soul. "The heart of your queen will echo throughout the kingdom for generations to come."

I nodded, vowing to take this unexpected turn in stride. In my veins flowed the relentless current of duty and determination that had guided countless Rivenborn rulers before me. If finding a wife was necessary to secure my kingdom's future, then so be it. I would find my queen, and together, we would face whatever storms might gather on our horizons.

As Sir Gareth departed to begin preparations, I turned back to the window, watching the play of light upon water in the distant river. Somewhere beyond these walls, perhaps beyond our borders, my future queen awaited—unaware that fate was even now weaving our destinies together like tributaries flowing toward the same sea.