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Description
Every night she heard the music. Every night the strange sounds of the flute would soar through her bedroom window on an unbidden wind they would caress her ears with a melodic harmony. Every night, it seemed, the music was speaking to her, wishing her to leave her soft bed and walk across the meadow, with the grass rippling in the nighttime breeze.
Mia had heard the strange tune nearly every night since she could remember. As the royal princess of her realm, she believed that she could never speak of it, for fear she might be seen as mad—the asylums in the villages were nothing more than humane slaughter houses. Besides, a princess should not be committed to one of those houses of pain to be gawked at while she sat on a bed of straw.
However, there were some nights when the music could not be heard at all; for some reason this frightened Mia very much, more than when she did hear it. Every time she felt the tune pass through her it was like a boat gently rocking her to sleep.
And yet life moved on, as the seasons changed and the years crept by. The kingdom of Fiore continued to prosper in its Third Age of Reformation. The royal family stood as strong as ever, providing protection to the inhabitants of the surrounding villages and cities while the subjects paid tribute to and respected their leaders who had been chosen by the Divine Right. This particular generation, Mia's, had been preceded by her mother and father's, which had gone through a very rough and grueling war and the kingdom was only just now showing signs of profitable peace. Mia's father, Fogartach Illiuch Caille XIV, was a seasoned warrior of a king who knew when to make the call to arms to ensure the peace and safety of both his kingdom and his family. Mia's mother, Ailbhe Ferchair Caille, was a peaceful queen who tended to the gardens and needs of her people—she adamantly believed that any conflict could be resolved with tranquility. When the war signaling the end of the Second Age of Reformation began, Ailbhe and Fogartach would often argue about which course of action to be taken. Eventually, as king and queen, they combined their strengths and forged alliances and treaties while also enforcing negotiations with proper military combat. Fiore eventually proved to be the most successful realm to come out of the war and pave the way for the Third Age.
As for Mia's generation, which took up the spot in the history pages during a rocky peace as the aftershock of the war began to dissipate, five of the original seven royal children had lived on. Diarmat, First Prince and fifth in line for the throne, and Caoimhe, Second Princess and seventh in line for the throne, were constantly out of the country to act as ambassadors and diplomats from Fiore to Aberdeen and Calina, respectively. Fiona, Fourth Princess and ninth in line, Feilim, Second Prince and tenth in line, and Mia, Fifth Princess and fourteenth in line, remained at home to continue pursuing the education necessary to someday run a country, or at least a part of it.
Mia, as the youngest and at a modest age of seventeen summers, was not without striking good looks, even though she was far surpassed in beauty by her older sister Caoimhe, who was 33 winters old. Mia had fair brown hair with the slightest hint of gold in it, her eyes a deep, rich hazel; with prominent facial features and a wonderful singing voice, she was often the favorite of the people. As such, her position meant that she had garnered much jealousy from both Fiona and Feilim, the twins who were at twenty winters apiece. Her days in the castle were spent mostly trying to avoid her older siblings by staying outside in the various courtyards, playing her flute and reading stories to the servant children, or perhaps staying in the kitchen to observe and learn from the cook, who was usually more than happy to have the princess as company while he prepared the meals.
And yet, try as she might, the one thing Mia could not avoid was the music she heard each night. It was always so soft, so graceful, that she thought she would wake up crying from its beauty. There were some things in the world that she could understand quite well, such as why the First and Third princesses were never mentioned in the presence of Queen Ailbhe, or how her flute worked. However, there were some things in the world she could not understand, like why the machinations of the Third Age always slighted women and placed men above them, or why Caoimhe, her favorite sister, had to leave when a hired diplomat could so easily take her place. Of all the things she didn't understand, the one item that irked our dear Mia the most was why she always heard that strange, piercing tune that rang resoundingly through her, like a harp playing constantly with its bittersweet sound.
However, as said before, life moved on. It was during the general procession of life on one specific day that had made Mia begin to grow quite discontent with the dull workings of day-to-day life in Fiore. Fortunately, with many stories much like our dear Mia's, things were about to take a turn for the young princess.
This day had started just like any other. When the knock on the door came, Mia had woken up in her soft bed of goose down, her maidservants came in to prepare her bath and clothes, and her bed was made by the children while she cleansed herself. Upon finishing her bathing, she slipped into her undercoats before another servant began stuffing her into her dress; a pale white skirt with a dark, green velvet corset and white, loose sleeves. After she briefly admired herself in the mirror, Mia allowed another maidservant to pin her hair back to keep the light brown locks from obscuring her face. Deeming herself presentable, Mia then made her way from her chambers down the spiral staircase and into the private dining room.
Light streamed in through the large, stained-glass windows depicting the early history of Fiore. Butlers scurried in and out through different doors, bearing trays that held parchment and food. The food went to Fiona and Feilim, both blonde haired and misty blue-eyed, who sat on one end of the table. The parchment was directed towards the other end, where sat King Fogartach and Queen Ailbhe, who looked over the letters and maps, their faces growing concerned. However, there was a fifth person there; an old man who looked stooped, even when sitting. He glanced at Mia before resuming his breakfast of porridge and what looked like plain grease and fat from the ham.
"Good morning, Mother," Mia said, walking over to Ailbhe and giving her mother a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Father," she said, repeating the same process with Fogartach.
"Women should be seen, not heard," the old man suddenly said. "Only speak when spoken to, for the good lord has made it so."
"Father, who is this man?" Mia whispered in the king's ear after he acknowledged her presence.
"This charming man is none other than Reverend Midi," Fogartach said in a booming voice. "He will be staying with us for a few days until he has been granted safe passage on the road from here to Calina where he can deliver the pure word of the Third Age."
"Pure as pure can be, unlike the young maidens who can poison a mind so," Reverend Midi said, taking a bite of one of the hearth-made bread loaves.
A queasy feeling overtook Mia's stomach; she could barely sit down and eat, let alone be in the same room as that greasy little old man who sat two chairs away from her. As soon as she managed to swallow a piece of ham and bread with her tea, she excused herself and made her way out to the garden.
It was a sunny day, a nice reprieve after the rainfall from the previous week. Mia walked along the stone path, glimpsing rabbits and birds hiding between and beneath the bushes and trees. Scattered around the garden were flowers of all kinds, ranging from the lovely blood red roses to the humble yellow and white daisies. However, Mia's favorite flowers and one of her prized possessions were the small cluster of chrysanthemums that had grown on a pedestal in the middle of the stone path. The assortment of pinks and whites mixed in with deep reds and light oranges gave Mia much more pleasure than being stuck in the castle.
Unfortunately, her pleasure was short lived, as Feilim and Fiona had come into the garden as well and began circling around her.
"What do you two want now?" Mia asked them, continuing to gaze at her flowers.
"Do you really know why Midi is here?" Feilim asked.
"To wait for safe passage, just as Father said," Mia replied complacently, walking forward toward the pile xenias that awaited her gentle touch, but Fiona blocked her path.
"Would you really believe that piece of dry rot?" Fiona said quietly.
"If Father says it is true, then it must be true," Mia told her. "He has never been wrong or lied to me before."
"He has today," Feilim said, a grin spreading across his face.
"Well, if it so please you, why don't you tell me the real reason as to the good reverend's visit," Mia said. "My patience grows thin, so if you have something to say, say it!"
Fiona and Feilim looked at each other wickedly before turning their attention back to Mia.
"Father is having Midi take you to a convent in the south on his way to Calina," Fiona said, her voice full of masked glee, taking a step forward.
"You'll leave at the end of the week," Feilim continued with a smile, walking forward to block Mia off even more.
"It seems that there is no longer any need for a fifth princess who is all the way fourteenth in line for the crown," Fiona took up, now circling around behind Mia.
"And who knows?" Feilim said, getting closer and making Mia feel very uneasy and nervous. "To make you forget the life of a princess, Midi might even cart you off to one of the asylums!"
That did it for Mia. Convents, she could handle. But asylums; it was as if her worst fear had been realized. What if her parents had found out about the music she heard every night? Had she told them without realizing it? This information made Mia feel so distraught, so upset that she promptly lifted her skirts and, with nowhere else to go, ran towards the archway that led to the other garden.
The royal garden was divided into two parts. One was the portion next to the castle, filled with arbors and flowers with the wending stone path and alcoves for people to sit in and relax while enjoying the day. The other part was separated by an archway and an ivy-covered wall—that was where the Fiore forest began and the castle ended. It was for the second garden that Mia ran, wanting to escape and hide amongst the brambles and tree roots. She had never been in the forest before, but every time she drew near the wall in the first garden, she could feel the sense of something hidden, mysterious—almost like a locket that always had secrets to reveal.
Her freedom was short-lived though. She had barely made it beyond the archway when she felt a pair of strong hands grab her, keeping her just within a single pace from the first root that seemed to stretch towards her.
"Let me go! Let me go! I am a princess!" she shrieked, kicking at her attacker. "Don't make me call the royal guard!"
"Princess Mia! Please, calm yourself!" a man's voice said.
She stopped; she knew that voice. Turning her head, she looked back to see her mother's personal knight, Feradach Naire, holding onto her, preventing her from moving towards the forest.
"Oh…Sir Feradach, it's you," Mia squeaked, highly abashed.
Feradach Naire was a tall man, about eight summers Mia's senior. He was young for a knight, but Queen Ailbhe had insisted that he become the leader of her personal guard. He had a master strategist's mind, and, in Mia's private opinion, a body to match. Long, light brown hair flowed from his head, and he wore a blue vest atop a white tunic with tan breeches and boots. Tied around his waist were two things; one being his sword, and the other the sash of the Queen's Honor, a simple black length of silk with a gold looping symbol on the end. Feradach was a handsome man in general, but Mia found the one thing so compelling about him was his eyes. They were a resilient blue, almost too blue to be real, but more intriguing still was the fact that on the inside of the irises were small gold rings, tinting a small part of his eyes light green. Mia felt as though she could stare at them for hours without getting bored.
In fact, she was staring into his eyes right then, even as he held her, preventing her from moving on into the forest. It was a while before she realized what was happening.
"Sir Feradach, I…unhand me!" she said, finally getting free and turning to face him, her back to the trees. "Why did you stop me from going in?"
"It's the Queen's wishes that you keep away from this forest," Feradach said, his hand almost lazily straying for the sash. "She does not want you to go anywhere near it."
"Why?" Mia asked. "Explain yourself."
"Forgive me, your highness, but you'll have to take that up with the Queen," Feradach said with a slight bow. "Now, it is the King's command that you return to your chamber so he may speak with you."
Mia froze. She needed to speak with him, but she was unsure of what to say. Was it possible that he had lied to her?
"Very well," she said, regaining what should have been a regal composure. "I shall go then."
"And Princess Mia," Feradach said as she walked past him. She turned, her heart fluttering a little. "Please don't go into the forest. The Queen will have my head if you do."
Mia's heart resumed its normal pace. She remained calm as she coldly said, "Sir Feradach, I doubt you will ever see me anywhere near the garden at all. Good day."
With that she left him behind. Even though she still harbored her affections for him, the very thought of her father, a man she had always respected and deemed honorable, possibly betraying her was enough to spoil a day as wonderful as today. She felt as though a dark cloud had descended to block out the light of the sun as she ascended the steps into the rear entrance hall. But the feeling outside was nothing compared to what lay inside.
Reverend Midi seemed to be expecting her. "My dear Mia, how pleasant it is to see you on such a wonderful day like today," he said greasily, extending an almost slimy hand toward her clean and pristine ones.
She hurried away from him; Mia knew it was rude, and the priest would probably have some choice words for her, but there was only one person she wanted to speak to.
And happy chance, he just so happened to be sitting in the antechamber to her private chambers.
"Father!" she cried, running to Fogartach as he stood and hugging him tightly. "Is it true? Is it all true?"
"Child, of course!" the king replied gaily, stroking his youngest daughter's hair. "Everything has been arranged—this week will be most extraordinary if it only started like this!"
"So all my belongings will be packed and taken to the convent?" Mia asked, holding back a tear.
"Convent? What foolishness do you speak of, child?" Fogartach asked, puzzled.
"I…I…was under the impression that Reverend Midi was to take me to a convent in the south at the end of this week," Mia replied, trying to keep herself composed. "It was also speculated that he would commit me to an asylum, as well."
"Child," the king said kindly, "both of these rumors are unfounded and wholly untrue."
"Then what is it you wanted to speak to me about?" Mia asked, her spirits lifting.
"My dearest Mia, sparkling jewel of our kingdom," King Fogartach said smiling, both of them sitting on one of the benches, "you are to be married to Midi at the end of this week!"
Mia's spirits that had once been flying like a wonderful butterfly fell like a stone, crushing the butterfly. She felt the blood drain from her face, and a tear slipped from her eye.
"My dear! Are you quite alright?" the king asked, looking at her closely.
Mia wiped away the small droplet quickly and flashed him a smile, masking her feelings beneath the grin. "O-of course! I-I weep for joy!"
"Well, if you're sure…" the king trailed off.
Plans had already begun forming in Mia's head of how to get out of this new engagement. "Father, if I may ask, how can I marry Midi if he is a celibate and chaste priest? The church does not permit this."
"That would be because Midi is not a priest," Fogartach explained. "He is the highest ranking earl from Calina, and his marriage to you would keep our countries together in an alliance. A tithe, of sorts. We only disguised him as a priest so as to not arouse suspicion while he was traveling, and we both decided to play the hoax a little further and see if we could fool you. And apparently we did!"
He laughed hard while Mia waited for him. When his chuckles finally subsided, she commented, "That was most amusing, Father. But now I must ask, what would it look like if I, the youngest daughter, were to marry before the oldest, Caoimhe? Besides, shouldn't she marry Midi? She is, after all, Fiore's diplomatic ambassador to Calina."
"Truer words were never spoken," Fogartach replied. "However, to both your questions, I have answers. First of all, this is the Third Age of Reformation; it is expected that women marry younger so they can produce more children and more suitable heirs. As for your second question, Caoimhe is no longer the ambassador to Calina, so she has no more ties there."
"Why is that, Father?"
The king looked uneasy as he paced back and forth a little. "There is no easy way to say this. I am afraid that…there was an attack carried out on Calina's royal court last week. The assailant took a young woman prisoner and killed her."
Mia felt something like a knot tie itself in the pit of her stomach.
"It seems that Caoimhe was the woman killed," Fogartach said, coming to a standstill and looking at Mia. "I'm so sorry."
Mia knew it was improper to cry, but she let another tear fall from her eyes.
"My child, you are the one who must marry Midi," Fogartach continued gravely. "I am sure you will enjoy his company in the future."
"O-of course, Father," Mia said. "If you wish it, then I shall obey."
She swept up her skirts and bowed low.
"Sweet child," Fogartach said, "you have made me very proud."
He patted her head briefly before he walked out of the chamber.
Mia gritted her teeth when she felt the pat. As soon as he shut the door behind him, she stood straight again, waiting for an idea to come to her. She looked out the window to see a guard standing in front of the archway leading to the Fiore Forest. Mia suddenly remembered who else she wanted to talk to.
But the strange thing was that the very person she wanted to see was already within her gaze. Queen Ailbhe was out in the first garden, walking down the stone pathway.
Mia hurried out of the room and down the stairs, praying with all her might that her mother would still be in the garden when she arrived amid the sunlight and sweet smelling flowers.

Description
Every night she heard the music. Every night the strange sounds of the flute would soar through her bedroom window on an unbidden wind they would caress her ears with a melodic harmony. Every night, it seemed, the music was speaking to her, wishing her to leave her soft bed and walk across the meadow, with the grass rippling in the nighttime breeze.
Mia had heard the strange tune nearly every night since she could remember. As the royal princess of her realm, she believed that she could never speak of it, for fear she might be seen as mad—the asylums in the villages were nothing more than humane slaughter houses. Besides, a princess should not be committed to one of those houses of pain to be gawked at while she sat on a bed of straw.
However, there were some nights when the music could not be heard at all; for some reason this frightened Mia very much, more than when she did hear it. Every time she felt the tune pass through her it was like a boat gently rocking her to sleep.
And yet life moved on, as the seasons changed and the years crept by. The kingdom of Fiore continued to prosper in its Third Age of Reformation. The royal family stood as strong as ever, providing protection to the inhabitants of the surrounding villages and cities while the subjects paid tribute to and respected their leaders who had been chosen by the Divine Right. This particular generation, Mia's, had been preceded by her mother and father's, which had gone through a very rough and grueling war and the kingdom was only just now showing signs of profitable peace. Mia's father, Fogartach Illiuch Caille XIV, was a seasoned warrior of a king who knew when to make the call to arms to ensure the peace and safety of both his kingdom and his family. Mia's mother, Ailbhe Ferchair Caille, was a peaceful queen who tended to the gardens and needs of her people—she adamantly believed that any conflict could be resolved with tranquility. When the war signaling the end of the Second Age of Reformation began, Ailbhe and Fogartach would often argue about which course of action to be taken. Eventually, as king and queen, they combined their strengths and forged alliances and treaties while also enforcing negotiations with proper military combat. Fiore eventually proved to be the most successful realm to come out of the war and pave the way for the Third Age.
As for Mia's generation, which took up the spot in the history pages during a rocky peace as the aftershock of the war began to dissipate, five of the original seven royal children had lived on. Diarmat, First Prince and fifth in line for the throne, and Caoimhe, Second Princess and seventh in line for the throne, were constantly out of the country to act as ambassadors and diplomats from Fiore to Aberdeen and Calina, respectively. Fiona, Fourth Princess and ninth in line, Feilim, Second Prince and tenth in line, and Mia, Fifth Princess and fourteenth in line, remained at home to continue pursuing the education necessary to someday run a country, or at least a part of it.
Mia, as the youngest and at a modest age of seventeen summers, was not without striking good looks, even though she was far surpassed in beauty by her older sister Caoimhe, who was 33 winters old. Mia had fair brown hair with the slightest hint of gold in it, her eyes a deep, rich hazel; with prominent facial features and a wonderful singing voice, she was often the favorite of the people. As such, her position meant that she had garnered much jealousy from both Fiona and Feilim, the twins who were at twenty winters apiece. Her days in the castle were spent mostly trying to avoid her older siblings by staying outside in the various courtyards, playing her flute and reading stories to the servant children, or perhaps staying in the kitchen to observe and learn from the cook, who was usually more than happy to have the princess as company while he prepared the meals.
And yet, try as she might, the one thing Mia could not avoid was the music she heard each night. It was always so soft, so graceful, that she thought she would wake up crying from its beauty. There were some things in the world that she could understand quite well, such as why the First and Third princesses were never mentioned in the presence of Queen Ailbhe, or how her flute worked. However, there were some things in the world she could not understand, like why the machinations of the Third Age always slighted women and placed men above them, or why Caoimhe, her favorite sister, had to leave when a hired diplomat could so easily take her place. Of all the things she didn't understand, the one item that irked our dear Mia the most was why she always heard that strange, piercing tune that rang resoundingly through her, like a harp playing constantly with its bittersweet sound.
However, as said before, life moved on. It was during the general procession of life on one specific day that had made Mia begin to grow quite discontent with the dull workings of day-to-day life in Fiore. Fortunately, with many stories much like our dear Mia's, things were about to take a turn for the young princess.
This day had started just like any other. When the knock on the door came, Mia had woken up in her soft bed of goose down, her maidservants came in to prepare her bath and clothes, and her bed was made by the children while she cleansed herself. Upon finishing her bathing, she slipped into her undercoats before another servant began stuffing her into her dress; a pale white skirt with a dark, green velvet corset and white, loose sleeves. After she briefly admired herself in the mirror, Mia allowed another maidservant to pin her hair back to keep the light brown locks from obscuring her face. Deeming herself presentable, Mia then made her way from her chambers down the spiral staircase and into the private dining room.
Light streamed in through the large, stained-glass windows depicting the early history of Fiore. Butlers scurried in and out through different doors, bearing trays that held parchment and food. The food went to Fiona and Feilim, both blonde haired and misty blue-eyed, who sat on one end of the table. The parchment was directed towards the other end, where sat King Fogartach and Queen Ailbhe, who looked over the letters and maps, their faces growing concerned. However, there was a fifth person there; an old man who looked stooped, even when sitting. He glanced at Mia before resuming his breakfast of porridge and what looked like plain grease and fat from the ham.
"Good morning, Mother," Mia said, walking over to Ailbhe and giving her mother a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Father," she said, repeating the same process with Fogartach.
"Women should be seen, not heard," the old man suddenly said. "Only speak when spoken to, for the good lord has made it so."
"Father, who is this man?" Mia whispered in the king's ear after he acknowledged her presence.
"This charming man is none other than Reverend Midi," Fogartach said in a booming voice. "He will be staying with us for a few days until he has been granted safe passage on the road from here to Calina where he can deliver the pure word of the Third Age."
"Pure as pure can be, unlike the young maidens who can poison a mind so," Reverend Midi said, taking a bite of one of the hearth-made bread loaves.
A queasy feeling overtook Mia's stomach; she could barely sit down and eat, let alone be in the same room as that greasy little old man who sat two chairs away from her. As soon as she managed to swallow a piece of ham and bread with her tea, she excused herself and made her way out to the garden.
It was a sunny day, a nice reprieve after the rainfall from the previous week. Mia walked along the stone path, glimpsing rabbits and birds hiding between and beneath the bushes and trees. Scattered around the garden were flowers of all kinds, ranging from the lovely blood red roses to the humble yellow and white daisies. However, Mia's favorite flowers and one of her prized possessions were the small cluster of chrysanthemums that had grown on a pedestal in the middle of the stone path. The assortment of pinks and whites mixed in with deep reds and light oranges gave Mia much more pleasure than being stuck in the castle.
Unfortunately, her pleasure was short lived, as Feilim and Fiona had come into the garden as well and began circling around her.
"What do you two want now?" Mia asked them, continuing to gaze at her flowers.
"Do you really know why Midi is here?" Feilim asked.
"To wait for safe passage, just as Father said," Mia replied complacently, walking forward toward the pile xenias that awaited her gentle touch, but Fiona blocked her path.
"Would you really believe that piece of dry rot?" Fiona said quietly.
"If Father says it is true, then it must be true," Mia told her. "He has never been wrong or lied to me before."
"He has today," Feilim said, a grin spreading across his face.
"Well, if it so please you, why don't you tell me the real reason as to the good reverend's visit," Mia said. "My patience grows thin, so if you have something to say, say it!"
Fiona and Feilim looked at each other wickedly before turning their attention back to Mia.
"Father is having Midi take you to a convent in the south on his way to Calina," Fiona said, her voice full of masked glee, taking a step forward.
"You'll leave at the end of the week," Feilim continued with a smile, walking forward to block Mia off even more.
"It seems that there is no longer any need for a fifth princess who is all the way fourteenth in line for the crown," Fiona took up, now circling around behind Mia.
"And who knows?" Feilim said, getting closer and making Mia feel very uneasy and nervous. "To make you forget the life of a princess, Midi might even cart you off to one of the asylums!"
That did it for Mia. Convents, she could handle. But asylums; it was as if her worst fear had been realized. What if her parents had found out about the music she heard every night? Had she told them without realizing it? This information made Mia feel so distraught, so upset that she promptly lifted her skirts and, with nowhere else to go, ran towards the archway that led to the other garden.
The royal garden was divided into two parts. One was the portion next to the castle, filled with arbors and flowers with the wending stone path and alcoves for people to sit in and relax while enjoying the day. The other part was separated by an archway and an ivy-covered wall—that was where the Fiore forest began and the castle ended. It was for the second garden that Mia ran, wanting to escape and hide amongst the brambles and tree roots. She had never been in the forest before, but every time she drew near the wall in the first garden, she could feel the sense of something hidden, mysterious—almost like a locket that always had secrets to reveal.
Her freedom was short-lived though. She had barely made it beyond the archway when she felt a pair of strong hands grab her, keeping her just within a single pace from the first root that seemed to stretch towards her.
"Let me go! Let me go! I am a princess!" she shrieked, kicking at her attacker. "Don't make me call the royal guard!"
"Princess Mia! Please, calm yourself!" a man's voice said.
She stopped; she knew that voice. Turning her head, she looked back to see her mother's personal knight, Feradach Naire, holding onto her, preventing her from moving towards the forest.
"Oh…Sir Feradach, it's you," Mia squeaked, highly abashed.
Feradach Naire was a tall man, about eight summers Mia's senior. He was young for a knight, but Queen Ailbhe had insisted that he become the leader of her personal guard. He had a master strategist's mind, and, in Mia's private opinion, a body to match. Long, light brown hair flowed from his head, and he wore a blue vest atop a white tunic with tan breeches and boots. Tied around his waist were two things; one being his sword, and the other the sash of the Queen's Honor, a simple black length of silk with a gold looping symbol on the end. Feradach was a handsome man in general, but Mia found the one thing so compelling about him was his eyes. They were a resilient blue, almost too blue to be real, but more intriguing still was the fact that on the inside of the irises were small gold rings, tinting a small part of his eyes light green. Mia felt as though she could stare at them for hours without getting bored.
In fact, she was staring into his eyes right then, even as he held her, preventing her from moving on into the forest. It was a while before she realized what was happening.
"Sir Feradach, I…unhand me!" she said, finally getting free and turning to face him, her back to the trees. "Why did you stop me from going in?"
"It's the Queen's wishes that you keep away from this forest," Feradach said, his hand almost lazily straying for the sash. "She does not want you to go anywhere near it."
"Why?" Mia asked. "Explain yourself."
"Forgive me, your highness, but you'll have to take that up with the Queen," Feradach said with a slight bow. "Now, it is the King's command that you return to your chamber so he may speak with you."
Mia froze. She needed to speak with him, but she was unsure of what to say. Was it possible that he had lied to her?
"Very well," she said, regaining what should have been a regal composure. "I shall go then."
"And Princess Mia," Feradach said as she walked past him. She turned, her heart fluttering a little. "Please don't go into the forest. The Queen will have my head if you do."
Mia's heart resumed its normal pace. She remained calm as she coldly said, "Sir Feradach, I doubt you will ever see me anywhere near the garden at all. Good day."
With that she left him behind. Even though she still harbored her affections for him, the very thought of her father, a man she had always respected and deemed honorable, possibly betraying her was enough to spoil a day as wonderful as today. She felt as though a dark cloud had descended to block out the light of the sun as she ascended the steps into the rear entrance hall. But the feeling outside was nothing compared to what lay inside.
Reverend Midi seemed to be expecting her. "My dear Mia, how pleasant it is to see you on such a wonderful day like today," he said greasily, extending an almost slimy hand toward her clean and pristine ones.
She hurried away from him; Mia knew it was rude, and the priest would probably have some choice words for her, but there was only one person she wanted to speak to.
And happy chance, he just so happened to be sitting in the antechamber to her private chambers.
"Father!" she cried, running to Fogartach as he stood and hugging him tightly. "Is it true? Is it all true?"
"Child, of course!" the king replied gaily, stroking his youngest daughter's hair. "Everything has been arranged—this week will be most extraordinary if it only started like this!"
"So all my belongings will be packed and taken to the convent?" Mia asked, holding back a tear.
"Convent? What foolishness do you speak of, child?" Fogartach asked, puzzled.
"I…I…was under the impression that Reverend Midi was to take me to a convent in the south at the end of this week," Mia replied, trying to keep herself composed. "It was also speculated that he would commit me to an asylum, as well."
"Child," the king said kindly, "both of these rumors are unfounded and wholly untrue."
"Then what is it you wanted to speak to me about?" Mia asked, her spirits lifting.
"My dearest Mia, sparkling jewel of our kingdom," King Fogartach said smiling, both of them sitting on one of the benches, "you are to be married to Midi at the end of this week!"
Mia's spirits that had once been flying like a wonderful butterfly fell like a stone, crushing the butterfly. She felt the blood drain from her face, and a tear slipped from her eye.
"My dear! Are you quite alright?" the king asked, looking at her closely.
Mia wiped away the small droplet quickly and flashed him a smile, masking her feelings beneath the grin. "O-of course! I-I weep for joy!"
"Well, if you're sure…" the king trailed off.
Plans had already begun forming in Mia's head of how to get out of this new engagement. "Father, if I may ask, how can I marry Midi if he is a celibate and chaste priest? The church does not permit this."
"That would be because Midi is not a priest," Fogartach explained. "He is the highest ranking earl from Calina, and his marriage to you would keep our countries together in an alliance. A tithe, of sorts. We only disguised him as a priest so as to not arouse suspicion while he was traveling, and we both decided to play the hoax a little further and see if we could fool you. And apparently we did!"
He laughed hard while Mia waited for him. When his chuckles finally subsided, she commented, "That was most amusing, Father. But now I must ask, what would it look like if I, the youngest daughter, were to marry before the oldest, Caoimhe? Besides, shouldn't she marry Midi? She is, after all, Fiore's diplomatic ambassador to Calina."
"Truer words were never spoken," Fogartach replied. "However, to both your questions, I have answers. First of all, this is the Third Age of Reformation; it is expected that women marry younger so they can produce more children and more suitable heirs. As for your second question, Caoimhe is no longer the ambassador to Calina, so she has no more ties there."
"Why is that, Father?"
The king looked uneasy as he paced back and forth a little. "There is no easy way to say this. I am afraid that…there was an attack carried out on Calina's royal court last week. The assailant took a young woman prisoner and killed her."
Mia felt something like a knot tie itself in the pit of her stomach.
"It seems that Caoimhe was the woman killed," Fogartach said, coming to a standstill and looking at Mia. "I'm so sorry."
Mia knew it was improper to cry, but she let another tear fall from her eyes.
"My child, you are the one who must marry Midi," Fogartach continued gravely. "I am sure you will enjoy his company in the future."
"O-of course, Father," Mia said. "If you wish it, then I shall obey."
She swept up her skirts and bowed low.
"Sweet child," Fogartach said, "you have made me very proud."
He patted her head briefly before he walked out of the chamber.
Mia gritted her teeth when she felt the pat. As soon as he shut the door behind him, she stood straight again, waiting for an idea to come to her. She looked out the window to see a guard standing in front of the archway leading to the Fiore Forest. Mia suddenly remembered who else she wanted to talk to.
But the strange thing was that the very person she wanted to see was already within her gaze. Queen Ailbhe was out in the first garden, walking down the stone pathway.
Mia hurried out of the room and down the stairs, praying with all her might that her mother would still be in the garden when she arrived amid the sunlight and sweet smelling flowers.