The colorful magic stones that would facilitate instant travel to Reviere were arrayed around the princess's carriage, the king watched from a distance until it vanished; he prays for Majic to be safe during her stay in Reviere, merely hoping the dweller of the abode will come to know her beyond being the daughter of King Carpio.
Princess Majic clasps the letter the king had handed her before her departure, he had bidden her to swiftly grasp the workings of magic so that she might comprehend what he had inscribed in a very special ink; "His Majesty was garbed in wedding attire, so he must have left Lady Zarila alone to come see her," Lady Marila informed, and the young princess's heart swelled with joy.
The instantaneous journey transpired, and the coach proceeded anew, the princess peered out of the window, the distant mountains in view, and on either side of the path, a profusion of wildflowers, the sky a distinctively special shade of blue, truly a splendid place.
The scenery itself buoyed the princess's heart, who, thrilled, imprinted each image in her memory; unaware of how this place would become a solace and remedy for her soul's wounds.
Moments later, they arrived at a large gate, guarded by royal sentinels, the escorts of the princess proffered a scroll and soon the gates swung open; a grand fountain graced the courtyard center, and the residence flaunted large windows, the service staff assisted the ladies to alight, then attended to the luggage, while Lady Marila invited the princess to enter.
As they came upon the grand salon of the residence, there sat a youth in a wheelchair, his hair dark and eyes a steely gray, vaguely reminiscent of King Fortem, though slightly leaner; his face seemed devoid of expression, but upon seeing him, Majic thought him an angel, like a faint dream she once had, the gray-eyed boy who joined her in dreams nightly in that dark tower, until he gazed upon her with the same severity the king had upon their meeting.
Lady Marila approached and curtsied, Majic emulated and performed a similar obeisance.
"My most respectful greetings to your Highness, it pleases the eye, beholding Prince Josag of Fontana and Duke of Reviere," Lady Marila professed with utmost reverence.
"The pleasure of seeing you is perennial, Lady Marila, though the same cannot be said of your companion, with that fiery red hair and keen gaze, clearly marking her as the executioner's daughter from afar," Prince Josag declared in anguish.
"She's your brother's principal spouse, Your Highness, and he has requested...", Lady Marila began.
"I am well aware of his request, it's explicitly detailed in his letter, though he bids me release prejudices, it's unfeasible; a decade past, her father slaughtered my mother whilst he violated her in front of her offspring, three years hence, treacherously, like the vermin he is, he murdered my father, bequeathing us merely his head to bury, two years ago, he left me mostly confined to this chair; she is the progeny of that damned man, truly, do you suppose I can forget?; however, I shall evince that in Fontana we are not barbarians, nor do I bear the burdens of others, albeit challenging, the princess's chamber is prepared, may she find it agreeable, and appraise it duly, formerly my mother's when she visited here," Prince Josag intoned with bitterness, then navigating his own chair, exited the salon.
Majic followed Lady Marila, pondering the young man's words in the chair who turned out to be her husband's brother, his visage angelic, but his eyes and voice were starkly foreboding.
Entering the chamber, Majic was struck by its beauty, never had she beheld such during her time with her mother; one wall featured a portrait, a woman with the identical gray eyes of Prince Josag, her hair golden as the sun, supremely beautiful and elegant.
Majic gazed intently at the woman, exceedingly more radiant even than Lady Zarila, whom the princess regarded as the fairest she had ever closely seen.
"She is surpassingly lovely, her gaze so tender," Majic remarked, absorbed by the image.
"That's Queen Krasa, the mother to His Majesty and Prince Josag, the last queen of Fontana," Lady Marila disclosed, "and we must mold you into someone of her caliber, princess," she added.
"Impossible, how could I transform into someone like her?" the princess challenged.
"In time, so strive. Yura will assist you in settling in, the rest of the staff will organize everything accordingly; but come, there's something I wish to show you, (opening a door) this is the bathing chamber, hygiene is paramount for a princess both must ensure the princess remains pristine from head to toe, (moving to another door, which leads to a corridor and on to another door) this will be your chamber Yura (the girl looked astonished) you may traverse this corridor and knock at the princess's door, entering directly should any need arise," Lady Marila elucidated, continuing to describe each surrounding feature.
Princess Majic and Yura, astounded, absorbed each detail Lady Marila presented, with the princess occasionally posing an inquisitive query.
Finally alone, Princess Majic stepped out to breathe in the spring air of that locale, from there one could survey the lagoon and the colored mountains in the distance; to her, it all appeared magical, and suddenly she felt someone was observing her, she lowered her gaze to find Prince Josag in the garden, his expression stern.
The prince grappled with the reality that he must share residency with the progeny of his archenemy; but Lady Marila had counseled him to seize the chance to gain a truer sense of Princess Majic, and maybe, as with herself and the king, he would uncover a young heart, only two years his junior, generous and wondrous; thus, he watched her intensively, trying to discern the magic potency within this diminutive princess and the odd sensation of prior acquaintance, though it seemed unfathomable; both were soon to confront their fates.
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