Contents
Title Page
Other Stories
Copyright
Map of Seirenia
The Duke's Daughter
Thank You & Read More
About the Author
The Duke’s Daughter
Wyld Magic Prequel
by Kristen S. Walker
Other Stories
Wyld Magic
Book 1: A Flight of Marewings
Prequel: “The Duke’s Daughter”
Book 2: A Pride of Gryphons
Book 3: The Reign of Dragons (2017)
Tales of Wyld Magic: Short Stories
“Together We Will Fly”
“The Hedge Witch”
Fae of Calaveras Trilogy
Book 1: Small Town Witch
Book 2: Witch Hunt
Book 3: Witch Gate
“Witch Test” - a prequel short story “Midsummer Knight” - a prequel short story “A Midwinter Night’s Dream” - short story between books 1 and 2
The Voyage of the Miscreation Serial
Episode 1: The Voyage Begins
Season 1: Episodes 1-6
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Copyright
“The Duke’s Daughter”
Kristen S. Walker
Copyright © 2016 Kristen S. Walker
Cover Design: Daniela Marquez of MV Covers
All rights reserved.
© Kristen S. Walker and kristenwalker.net
MAP OF SEIRENIA
The Duke's Daughter
“Everything must be perfect,” her mother’s voice echoed through the manor. “We can’t let a single detail displease the duke.”
Korinna had spent days working on that perfection: scrubbing every surface both inside and out of the humble country estate, slaving in the kitchen to prepare the finest foods, making over her best dress to match the latest city fashions. She was exhausted, and only hoped for a few minutes’ peace to sit down. But her mother, Pherenia, was relentless with her demands and went over everything a dozen times.
Pherenia was always anxious and overexcited every time Duke Basileos came to visit them in Anoberesovo, which was only a few times a year. As the duke’s mistress, she enjoyed a certain elevation in status, but when Korinna had been born, the duke sent them both away from the city to a small farming estate where they would not offend his wife. They had everything they needed from the farm and the nearby village which tended their fields, but Korinna knew her mother missed living in Kyratia’s capital city. The duke’s rare visits were like holidays, with a shower of gifts and a flurry of activity in their otherwise routine lives, so Pherenia looked forward to each one eagerly—and when she was younger, Korinna had been swept up in the excitement too. But now that she was fourteen and almost a woman grown, she saw the visits and gifts as nothing more than cheap bribes, poor substitutes for having a father who actually took care of them and cared about their lives.
But her mother promised that this time would be different, and that was why her usual frantic preparations had reached a fever pitch. A few months ago, Duke Basileos’s wife had died of some complication. The duke’s mourning period had just ended. Pherenia was convinced that his timely visit meant he would finally take them back to the city to be with him—perhaps even marry Pherenia and legitimize Korinna’s birth.
“He should have put that woman aside years ago,” Pherenia said, an old familiar complaint. “She was obviously barren. But if the duke marries me now, I’m still young enough to give him a son for his heir, and no doubt he’ll find a good marriage for you, too. He’ll make up for lost time now that she’s gone—you’ll see.”
Korinna smiled thinly at her mother, then bent her head to finish polishing the silver. She wasn’t going to get her hopes up for anything from her father.
By evening, everything was in order, even to Pherenia’s critical eye. Dressed in their finest clothes, Korinna and her mother waited in the hall with a roaring fire in the hearth. Pherenia’s gown was dyed a deep yellow with costly saffron and seemed to glow in the firelight, and her favorite sapphire jewels sparkled at her throat and ears. Watching her mother from the corner of her eye, Korinna wondered if this is what Pherenia would look like all of the time if they lived in the city, a fine lady holding herself apart—not the hard worker who toiled in the fields beside her own servants each day.
Then a guard announced the arrival of a traveling party, and they heard a commotion out in the courtyard. Pherenia waved aside the servants and rushed to open the front door herself.
Korinna joined her mother’s side and looked out at the visitors. The duke traveled in disguise when he came to visit them, but he was still obviously a nobleman by his traveling party, which included several members of his personal guard in plain clothes. There was also a handful of servants in his train and a donkey-drawn cart to carry all of his luggage.
Pherenia craned her neck to look through the crowd and her eyes lit up when she saw Basileos. “My lord!” she cried, running to meet him like a young girl.
Basileos laughed when he saw Pherenia and swept her up in his arms. Although he’d been walking all day to reach the estate, he picked her up as if she weighed nothing and spun her around. Then he set her down and dipped her backward in a passionate kiss.
Korinna turned her face aside, allowing her parents a moment of privacy. After all these years, the two were still as much in love as any young sweethearts. If he had been anyone but a duke, they could have been happily married and Korinna would have a normal family. But his duties as a ruler came first—and political necessity had chosen his first wife. Maybe now that the last duchess had died childless, the duke would be free to follow his heart.
Basileos finally released Pherenia from the kiss and laughed again. “By the Gods, Phera, it’s good to see you again. The walk from the capital seems to get longer every year.” He turned and saw Korinna still waiting in the doorway. “And is that my little Korinna? I thought you would have grown by now.”
Korinna blushed at the mention of her height since she was the shortest girl her age in the whole village, but she hid her embarrassment by dropping into a curtsy. “Welcome, Father. Will you come inside and take refreshment?”
Basileos came to the door with his arm still around Pherenia. “Why, you’re a proper lady of the household, my dear,” he said with a proud smile. “Yes, I can’t wait to go in and sit down. Is supper ready yet?”
Pherenia glanced back to be sure that her own servants were assisting the duke’s attendants with the luggage, then pulled Basileos inside with her. “Supper will be served in just a few minutes,” she promised. She gave Korinna a look that told her to take care of it.
Korinna curtsied again and went to go tell the steward, Myron, that they were ready for food. She also grabbed a bottle of white wine and a pair of goblets left out in the kitchen. Someone would bring her watered-down beer with her own food, but they would never serve something so rustic to the duke.
She found her parents in the hall. As always, Basileos claimed the chair at the head of the table, closest to the hearth; he had Pherenia on his lap with his arms around her waist, pulling her close so he could whisper into her ear, making her giggle. Korinna kept her eyes averted as she poured wine for both of them and took her seat on his right.
Basileos looked up with a grin and reached for the goblet. “Ah, my thanks, daughter! I am quite parched from the road.” He lifted it in a mock toast, then drained half the wine in one swallow. He kept Pherenia on his lap but shifted so he could look over at Korinna. “How old are you now? Are you still in school?”
Korinna felt her face growing hot again. “I’m fourteen,” she said, du
cking her head under his scrutinizing gaze. “I finished the village school when I was twelve.” At twelve, most children were apprenticed to a profession or began working with their parents full-time in the fields, or wherever their livelihood was.
Pherenia lifted her head from Basileos’s shoulder. “I’ve been teaching her since then, everything a proper lady should know: how to weave and sew, manage a household, keep the accounts, etiquette and so on. You see how nice her manners are—they wouldn’t be out of place in any court in the land.”
Basileos nodded thoughtfully. “And do you take part in the local games?”
“Every summer,” Korinna said, sitting up straighter. The athletic games were her favorite festival, and she trained year-round to be ready for them. “I usually place in the top three for tumbling and cross-country running.”
Servants began to enter the room, unobtrusively setting down the first course of supper dishes and refilling their goblets. Pherenia reluctantly got up from Basileos’s lap and took her seat on his left, but she kept her hand in his on the table.
Basileos nodded to accept a plateful of cured meats and cheeses, but his eyes did not leave Korinna. “I guess your small size is an advantage in the tumbling,” he said with a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’re on your way to becoming an accomplished young woman. All you need is a little polish in the capital.”
Pherenia gave a happy squeal and flashed a triumphant grin at her daughter across the table. “Are you taking us back with you?”
Basileos took a sip of his wine. “Well, I still have some more preparations to make,” he said with some hesitation. “As you know, I lost my wife recently, and there’s been a lot to sort out after her passing.”
“May the gods guide her soul through the Dry Lands,” Korinna murmured, cupping her hand to her forehead in the sign of Deyos. Inwardly, she was bracing for him to come up with some excuse, just as he always did when her mother mentioned going to the city.
Pherenia mimicked the prayer with no feeling, but she still watched the duke hopefully. “Is there something we could do to help?”
Basileos smiled at her and shook her head. “Nothing for you to trouble yourself with, my dear. But since I have no son, my Council has been nagging me to settle the question of my heir, and I think I’ve hit upon a solution that will satisfy many people.” He glanced back and forth at them, his eyes sparkling.
Pherenia leaned forward eagerly, but Korinna picked at her food and didn’t try to feign interest. She wasn’t going to play games with him.
Basileos took another sip of his wine, stalling for dramatic effect. At last, he set down his goblet and cleared his throat. “I have decided to reward my Warlord Galenos for his years of service to me,” he announced with a grin of pride. “He will marry my daughter and become my heir.”
Korinna’s eyes snapped up to her mother. She struggled not to show her shock, but her hands went to the arms of her chair, clutching them to keep herself from jumping up. Warlord Galenos was one of the last people in the world that she expected to marry.
Pherenia looked back at her daughter nervously and swallowed to keep her composure. “My lord,” she began delicately, “isn’t he a foreigner? How could he inherit your city?”
“And a mercenary,” Korinna hissed, unable to keep the disgust out of her voice. “Those who make war are forbidden to own land or have a family. The gods themselves have decreed they are anathema to our way of life.”
Basileos laughed and shook his head. “You sound like my Council,” he scolded, but there was no malice in his tone. “Most mercenaries retire at some point, and then they’re entitled to the same rights as any other citizen. Don’t I owe him something? Half the lands under my command were returned to me by Galenos and his Storm Petrels. As to the question of his birth, marrying Korinna will legitimize his claim. The Council may advise me on my own marriage, but they can’t tell me who should be my heir. Galenos fought for Kyratia and I wouldn’t trust any other man to rule it after me.”
Korinna relaxed her grip on the chair and folded her hands in her lap, but she was still struggling to accept what her father was saying. She’d never met the Warlord, but she knew his reputation: a calculating tactician, who never entered a battle that he thought he couldn’t win, and his record of successful conquests said that he had good judgment. He was one of the youngest mercenary captains, having founded the Storm Petrels himself, and had quickly risen among the mercenary companies with surprising skill. The duke had permanently contracted him as Kyratia’s military force several years before, and it was true that Galenos had expanded their lands by taking back territories that had been lost to other city-states in past generations and, in his greatest battle, subjugated their neighboring city, Mezzarion. At last, the other cities had formed an alliance against Kyratia and forced Duke Basileos to sign an agreement that he would not attempt to conquer any more land, but Galenos’s company continued to serve as their defense, feared by their neighbors.
Rumor said that unlike some other mercenary captains, who stayed out battle themselves and only relayed their orders onto the field, Galenos led his soldiers personally and fought in the thick of the conflict. He was a cold-blooded killer. To marry such a man—the thought chilled her to the bone.
Pherenia recovered first. “So you’ve arranged a fine marriage for Korinna,” she said, forcing a smile as if she was pleased by the news. “What about yourself? Even if you’ve chosen an heir, you must be lonely in that big house in the city, all by yourself…” She trailed off, tracing her finger along Basileos’s wrist.
Basileos chuckled and grabbed her hand. “Ah, Phera, I would love for nothing more than to wake up to your beautiful face every morning,” he said in a deep growl that made Korinna grow uncomfortable again. “Alas, I have every eligible woman in Kyratia throwing herself at me right now, and each one of my Councilors has their own ideas of whom I should choose. I don’t know how long I can avoid their machinations.” He sighed and shook his head. “Besides, you don’t want to come back to the city and get caught up in the chaos of politics again. I envy the simple life you have here in the country.”
Pherenia bowed her head. “You’re right,” she murmured. She picked up the wine bottle. “May I refill your goblet, dear?”
Korinna felt a sting of sympathy for her mother. She’d warned her, time and again, not to get her hopes up when it came to the duke, but Pherenia wouldn’t stop believing that someday her love would overcome all obstacles and she could live happily ever after. Although she was afraid for her own future—marrying a Warlord!—Korinna also worried what would happen to her mother when she went to the city. Pherenia would waste away alone in the country.
But she forced herself to stay calm, eat her supper, and try not to watch her parents flirt across the table. Basileos said that he still had preparations to make. She had a little freedom left before she was called to the city and faced the monster that was her husband-to-be.
***
Basileos left a week later, promising to send for Korinna soon. Pherenia sent him off with a brave smile, but once his train had left the estate, she collapsed into the nearest chair and wiped away tears from her eyes.
“I suppose that’s it, then,” she said in a heavy voice. “He wants to keep me here forever, out of the public eye.” She took a shuddering breath, then turned to Korinna with a forced smile. “Well, we should concentrate on you, then. My daughter’s going to be the duchess! I always knew you were destined for bigger things than languishing in the countryside. We have our work cut out for us to prepare you for your debut in the capital.”
Korinna’s heart ached for her mother’s disappointment, but she choked down her words of sympathy and only nodded. “As you wish, Mother.”
Over the next few weeks, she didn’t have much time to feel frightened of her future because her mother kept her busy with extra lessons on life in the city. She practiced her dancing—not the simple country dances she’d been doing all of he
r life, but the formal partner dances of the city. She learned how to set the table for formal dinners and afternoon parties, to create a seating chart to honor her guests and create a harmonious gathering, and to design a menu up to nine courses that catered to a variety of tastes without over-feeding anyone. She was drilled on the proper forms of address for every ranked official, from Guild Master to priest, and various bows and curtsies to show respect depending on her relative status to them.
“Remember,” Pherenia said in a pointed tone, “you’re not there as a country girl with only a small estate to her name. The duke is publicly displaying you as his only offspring, which means that you’re owed respect and you will outrank almost all of them. Don’t forget who your father is, and don’t let anyone make you feel less for being illegitimate.” She put a finger under Korinna’s chin and lifted it up. “The most important thing you can do is to be confident. If you act like you belong, others will accept that. But if you show fear or hesitation, they will take advantage of any weakness and tear you apart.”
Korinna locked her knees to keep from quivering and looked up at her mother, trying to project that air of confidence, but she didn’t feel like she was doing it right. “Won’t they see that I’m just pretending?”
Pherenia shook her head. “Not if you commit to it.” She put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder with a reassuring smile. “Think of it like your tumbling. If you hesitate when you go into a handspring or a backflip, you’ll fall on your face. But if you don’t overthink it and throw yourself into it with all of your strength, then you sail through and stick the landing. Believe you can do it and others will believe it, too.”
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