Hers From The Start: A Collection of First In Series Reverse Harem

by Laura Greenwood

"I'm not letting you carry me like a... like an air ambulance patient!"

  "What?" Frost looks confused. "The Queen travels this way herself."

  Now it's my turn to frown. "She doesn't fly?"

  "She doesn't have wings, Wyn. She's a Goddess, not a Guardian."

  "But shouldn't she be able to, I don't know, magic herself from one place to another? I mean, she's a Goddess, she must be powerful, right?"

  The woman and her companions stare at me openly. Apparently, they weren't aware of how clueless I am about my mother and her world.

  "Wyn, your mother is the most powerful of all the Gods. Only she herself knows what she can do. For all I know, she could grow wings, or teleport, or summon a dragon to ride on, but usually, she travels by PT. That way her subjects can see her."

  "There are dragons?!"

  Frost laughs, putting an arm around my shoulders. "That's so you, focussing on the least important aspect of what I'm telling you."

  That earns him an elbow against his ribs. He yelps. "Yes, there are dragons. Not many, though. They keep to themselves mostly. They do send an ambassador to court once a year. Should be soon, actually, I’m sure if you ask your mother you’ll get to meet him."

  "We should leave, my lady, if we want to arrive before nightfall" Ada interrupts. While I was talking to Frost, the blue Guardians have set up the PT. It's a strange contraption, but it doesn't look uncomfortable. It's a bit like a swing chair, but with safety belts and a footrest. The material looks like leather, but at the same time it's smooth and soft. I'm going to need to learn so much about this world.

  Again, I'm grateful for having my Guardians. Ada doesn't look very patient, and I'd never be able to know who of the triplets is who.

  The PT is actually quite comfortable. I'm not sure how much I trust it in the air, though. Yes, there is a safety strap, but who knows how much that thing will swing around. But then, it's probably safer than trying to fly myself. If I can fly. I'm going to try that later, in a warm place, where I can safely take off my shirt so I can unfold my wings. Although...

  "How do they have their wings out if they're wearing clothes?" I ask no one in particular, pointing to the triplets.

  "Practice," Arc shrugs, and extends his own wings, despite having put on clothes again. I walk around him, looking whether they have ripped holes into his shirt. Nope. They just... float through the fabric, or whatever you want to call it. I don't get those wings... they're not quite part of their bodies, but yet there they are, growing out of their shoulder blades, moving at their commands. Magic can be so annoyingly confusing.

  "Then why did you take off your shirts earlier?"

  Frost snickers. "Why not?"

  I groan. Men. Why do they have to know how gorgeous they are?

  Ada clears her throat. Yeah, I get it, we have to leave. The triplets take the straps holding up the PT, but with a collective growl, my guys step forward and take them. Good, I feel much safer with my Guardians. No offense to the blue ones, but mine are... well, mine.

  There are four thick straps extending from each of the corners of the throne. My Guardians take one each and wrap it around their waists, then get in position around me, their wings extended. All of them are wearing clothes now. Pity.

  "Lynx and I will fly at the front, and Fox and Phoenix will take the rear," Ada commands, and her men do what she says. I'm wondering whether she is just their leader, or whether there is more between them. It's hard to tell with her tough exterior.

  "All ready?"

  Everybody nods, except for me, but that doesn't seem to matter. Ada bends her knees and jumps up into the air, her wings beating strongly until she's hovering several metres above ground.

  Lynx is the next one to fly up - now it's our turn. Hurray. Not sure if my stomach is going to survive this. When I was younger, I used to love going to the fair, trying out all the rides, but when I got older, I began to get queasy in most of them. Not quite to the stage where I had to throw up, but enough to feel uncomfortable. I imagine myself puking while in the PT, and decide that I cannot let that happen. I'm a Princess here, after all. I need to keep face, at least for now, until everybody discovers how unregal I really am.

  "Ready?" Storm asks. I sigh and nod. Let's just pretend that this is going to be fun.

  As one, they jump, just about managing to keep their wings from touching. I'm hovering in the middle, the PT swinging gently, but mostly under control. I'm really glad my feet aren't in the air but safely on the footrest. I'm looking down at the ground that is quickly becoming further and further away. The Guardians are flying fast - not quite plane-fast, but close. A cold wind is tousling my hair and biting my cheeks. I could do with a winter jacket right now. But my bags are... where are my bags? Before the battle, we left them in the car, planning to pick them up before going through the Gate. But when I saw my guys on the rainbow bridge, they weren't carrying anything. I guess the shock of me being knocked out distracted them. Oh well, I hope my mother has some warm clothing prepared for me. Yes, I'm from Scotland, but we mainly get rain and not a lot of snow, at least not in Edinburgh. I'm not used to this kind of dry cold. I shiver and wrap my arms around my chest.

  "Use your magic!" Storm calls to me.

  "I can't!" I shout back. it dawns on me that I haven't told them yet about my magic being blocked. I was busy with other... things. Like having sex with Storm.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The palace is huge. Huge like in massive. Ginormous. It's basically an entire walled city, but all in one large complex. And it looks like something Tolkien would have dreamed up. Turrets reach high into the sky, looking down on intricate walkways and large courtyards. There are gardens all over the place, but not green and colourful like you'd expect them to be. Instead, they're shades of blue and white. This is the home of the Winter Queen, after all.

  Flags are waving in the wind, but I can't make out what's on them yet. Maybe it's because my eyes are teary from the cold. I miss my magic terribly. Inside of me is a big, dark hole where she used to live. The cave, still blocked, is empty and cold. It's almost painful when I focus on it.

  "We'll land on the Queen's Tower!" one of the triplets shouts against the icy wind. After Storm noticed that I couldn't conjure any warm air myself, he did it for me, but I'm still cold. The wind is too strong.

  We change course, circling the palace. Down below, people are going about their business, scurrying like little bees looking after their hive. There are hundreds of people outside, and I can't even begin to imagine how many more will be inside the buildings.

  Around the walls of the palace, a town has grown. You can see that it wasn't planned this way; there are no straight roads or orderly houses. Instead, it's a chaotic mishmash of tiny alleys winding around buildings that look like they've been randomly placed on the ground. They're made from some kind of stone that shimmers in the last light of the day. It looks beautiful.

  Out of nowhere, a face appears in the air in front of us. A massive, creepy face of a man with wild eyebrows and a Father Christmas beard. It's as tall as all four of my Guardians stacked on top of each other. Weird. Well, they told me that I'd come across some strange magic here.

  We're hovering in front of the face, waiting for something. The face isn't moving, the eyes aren't even blinking. That makes it even creepier.

  "What is..." I whisper to my Guardians, but the face interrupts me with a booming voice that's somehow both inside and outside of my head.

  "Princess Wynter. What are you seeking at her Majesty's palace?"

  Ehm, wanting to visit my mother? Heading her call? Shouldn't her... guard-face know that?

  "The Princess has come at the behest of her mother, Queen Beira, Mother of Gods," Storm shouts against the rising wind.

  "And can the Princess speak for herself?" the face replies, finally blinking for the first time. No, it's still creepy.

  "She can!" I shout back. "I was invited, so let us in!"

  Probably not the politest res
ponse, but I'm cold. Sue me.

  "Her Majesty is currently unavailable. Please hold."

  What. The. Fuck. Is he some kind of magic call centre operative?

  Suddenly, there's another voice in my head, this one female, and rather bossy. "Bernold, what the heck are you doing? You're not supposed to... oh my, your Majesty!"

  The man's face blinks out of existence, before being replaced by another one. A woman this time, with puffy cheeks, white hair and laughing lines all around her eyes and lips. She looks like a grandmother who's just caught one of her grandchildren red-handed.

  "Princess, I am so sorry. Bernold must have slipped into the control room while I wasn't looking... Come on in, forgive me, he's going to be punished severely." The last word is dripping with poison and just before her image disappears, she turns around to look at something behind her, fury written all over her face. I almost feel sorry for Bernold, whoever he is.

  The air shimmers in front of us where the giant face was just a moment ago, and without a word, Ava and her triplets begin to fly towards the palace. We follow and I lean as far I dare to out of the PT to see more of my mother's home. The closer we get to the buildings, the bigger they seem. Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh is like a shed compared to this one. I start to count the towers, but shouts below distract me. People are standing and pointing towards us. I wiggle uncomfortably on the PT. Can they see my bum? How do I look from below? Am I going to be stared at a lot from now on?

  Usually, I'm one to avoid attention. I've never fought to be in the spotlight, and even though I often took the lead in teamwork back at school and university, I prefer to work from inside the group, not as their leader. I've got a feeling this might all change now that we've finally arrived in the Realms.

  We've almost reached the tallest tower of them all. It's pearl white and shimmers in the evening light. Like everything, it's got a distinct wintery feel to it all. That's not to say, everything here is snow-covered or made from ice. No, it's more the way things seem to be smooth and gleaming. The colours are all in the white and blue spectrum, with few things yellow or red. Okay, this is why I'm not an artist. I'm terrible at describing things.

  Basically, it's magnificent.

  A large door opens at the top of the tower, giving us a way in. I sigh as we finally fly inside and away from the staring crowds. I can't wait to get out of the PT. It's not uncomfortable, but I prefer not to be carried through the air like a baby.

  Four attendants are waiting for us, standing unmoving while my Guardians help me out of my throne.

  I'm a little unsteady on my feet. I'll be glad if I never have to sit on that PT again. Why can't they just use planes, or helicopters? Then it dawns on me that they may not have electricity. I look around the room. A ball of light is hovering on the ceiling where you'd usually find a lamp. It's pulsating somehow, and it's definitely got an 'alive' kind of vibe to it. Definitely not powered by electricity, but by magic. I wonder if I could create a ball like that. It's not really fire, it's more like concentrated light. I make a mental note to ask Crispin later on.

  A wooden door bangs open behind the guards and the woman from the massive face thingy steps into the room. She's a little out of breath; I assume they don't have elevators here to get to the top of the towers.

  She gives me a quick curtsey. "Your Royal Highness, it's a pleasure to welcome you to the palace. I'm Tamara, the Head of Household."

  Frost snickers behind me, but I don't want to be impolite, so I don't turn around to find out what's so funny about that.

  "Very nice to meet you," I say and smile at her. She looks friendly, but there is steel behind her eyes. She's a strong woman who shouldn't be crossed.

  She huffs. "And apologies again about Bernold. He's been assigned bedpan duty in the infirmary for the next month." She winks at me. Oh, apparently she's got a sense of humour, too. I like her already. "Follow me, Princess."

  I do as she says, but Storm is quicker and takes the lead. Surely he doesn't need to be this protective in my mother's palace?

  The other three follow, while Ada and her Guardians stay behind.

  There's a short corridor, leading to a large stone staircase. It goes down a long way; looking down the hole in the middle makes me shudder with vertigo. No wonder Tamara was out of breath; this is like climbing a mountain. Luckily we're going down now, not up.

  At the sides of the stairwell are two small crystal balls mounted on pedestals, the swirling white clouds inside them reminding me of snow globes. Tamara puts a hand on one of them and it lights up brightly. There's a rumbling noise and - oh my Gods, the stair case is moving.

  "Stairs or slide?" she asks, but I just look at her cluelessly.

  "Slide," Frost replies in my stead, and she gives him a conspiratory smile. Surely she's not talking about a -

  The steps sink down and merge together, forming a slide, gently shimmering like smooth pearls.

  "Wow." I take a deep breath.

  "Welcome ta the palace," Arc laughs. "Throne room?"

  Tamara nods.

  "Watch and learn, lass," he says, and steps onto the top of the slide. "Second floor," he commands loudly, and a red line appears on the pearl white, snaking down the slide, disappearing into the distance. With a grin, he sits down. "Fast, please."

  In a flash, he's whisked away, racing down the slide at breakneck speed. Wow. That looks like fun!

  "You simply state the destination and speed you'd like," Crispin explains. "There's slow, gentle, medium, fast and Queen."

  "Queen?"

  "Her Majesty doesn't like to be kept waiting," Tamara answers my question.

  "Would you like to ride with one of us?" Crispin asks and I give him an incredulous look.

  "No way!"

  I sit down at the top of the slide, marvelling at how soft and warm it feels. "Second floor, medium," I say confidently. The floor vibrates slightly, and off it goes. It's not like a normal slide, where you move down on your own accord. Here, the slide moves and I stay in place. It's a good speed, but I regret not choosing fast. That looked like more fun. Next time.

  I don't see much of the floors I pass while on the slide. It's too fast, all I can see are blurry outlines of doors. After about a minute, I finally reach the second floor where the slide comes to a halt. Behind me, I can already hear Frost cheering and whooping. Sounds like he's taken the fast option. I jump to my feet and step off the slide to make way for him. Being crushed by a Guardian isn't on my to-do list today.

  Arc is waiting a few steps away from the landing, in a large and bright chamber, decorated with delicate wall hangings. There are no chairs; the only furniture is a pedestal at the front, next to a massive set of doors. A man is standing there; from his perfect features it's clear that he's a Guardian. His immaculate suit and meticulously styled beard give him the air of someone important. When he sees us approach, he steps away from his lectern and bows deeply.

  "Your Royal Highness, it's an honour to finally meet you. My name is Jonathan, and I am your mother's Lord Chamberlain. I trust the journey wasn't too difficult?"

  Apparently, no one has told him that there's been assassination attempts and a battle in the past few days. Well, I won't enlighten him. Maybe there's a reason Beira is keeping it to herself.

  Instead, I smile sweetly. "Oh, it's been no trouble at all. Is my mother awaiting me?"

  Behind me, Arc is trying to suppress a grumbling laughter. I imagine the vibrations I'd feel on his chest if I was leaning against him... No, don't think with your ovaries, think with your brain. You're a princess now, Wyn!

  Jonathan scoffs. Apparently, I didn't respond royally enough. Sorry, I'm new to all this.

  "Her Majesty is in a council meeting, but it should be over any minute or so. Please, do make yourselves comfortable while you wait." He makes a swooping gesture, as if he was pointing towards some non-existent chairs we could sit in.

  Uncomfortably, we wait. The other Guardians have joined us, and we stand together,
not quite sure what to do. Now I know why my mother hasn't put any furniture into her vestibule. It makes her guests uncomfortable and insecure - and likely more pliable in negotiations.

  I square my shoulders. This shouldn't affect me. But it does. I'm having to wait here to see my mother, who is busy in some meeting. I've gone through so much to get here, and now she can't even hurry up? Does she even want to see me?

  Someone grips my hand and I look up into Storm's calm eyes. "It'll be okay," he whispers, and I nod. Right. I've got my Guardians with me. Even if my mother doesn't care about me, they do.

  With a creak, the doors open and we break apart. The guys take a step back, respectfully letting me go first. I'm not sure if Guardians are always this... let's call it familiar, with their charge. Maybe it's better if I don't show how much they mean to me? There's so much I need to learn.

  Jonathan clears his throat. "Your Highness, please follow me."

  I take a deep breath and do as he says, accompanying him into the throne room.

  Wow.

  My breath catches in my throat as I take in my surroundings. It's beautiful and intimidating at the same time. Everything sparkles and glitters in the bright light that comes from hundreds of pulsating stars floating close to the high ceiling. White marble columns carved with intricate designs lead the way to the throne. High stained-glass windows line the walls, interspersed with tapestries. There are animals and people woven into the fabric, and I make a mental note to inspect them closer later on. I'm sure they tell some kind of story.

  Trying to ignore all the beautiful things around me, I turn towards the throne. It sits on a dais at the far end of the hall, accessed by crystal steps. At first, I think that the spikes emanating from the back of the throne are part of a star, but then I realise that they're actually one giant snowflake, surrounding my mother like a halo.

  As always, I'm amazed at her ethereal beauty. Her long, white hair reaches her thin waist, and her eyes are as piercing as the winter she represents. She is tall and slim, but still imposing on the large throne. It was built for her, that much is obvious. It highlights her power, her shine, her majesty. Only now do I realise how powerful she really is. She's not just a queen, she's a Goddess. The mother of all Gods, they call her. Who knows if that is true. Ewww. That would mean that I've got lots of half siblings. Most of which are ancient. No, maybe it's just a figure of speech. And who knows how Gods are born. Created. Thrown into this world.