PRINCESS OF DARKNESS
ADRIANNA J. TETNOWSKI
PAPER OWL PUBLISHING
This paperback edition published in Great Britain in 2019 by Paper Owl Publishing ™
Copyright © 2019 by Adrianna J. Tetnowski
Cover Art by Tom Edwards
Maps by Takayo Akiyama
All Rights Reserved.
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ISBN: 978-1-9993382-4-4
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BOOKS BY ADRIANNA J. TETNOWSKI
The Tales of Iradas
The Dark Maiden
Princess of Darkness
Novels
The Anari
To my family. Thank you.
Vestus
Respect was never given, only earned. Vestus Tore had learned that the hard way after his last encounter with the Emperor of Iradas, and he vowed to never let any man trample on him again because of it.
If he was to succeed as King of Skull Island, he would have to find himself a wife and soon. Vestus needed children of his own and, whilst he was still young, time didn’t wait for anyone. News of this Serendipity Redbane, a lost princess of Iradas, had given him some hope of securing ties with the Redbane family but, she was a hostage to the wretched Lord Marcus Valenti. That would call for a rescue mission and, well Vestus didn’t have the resources or men for that.
The army of Skull Island was growing yes, but slowly. It still needed some time and effort to really set the King of Skull Island’s enemies trembling. For now, it would simply be a laughingstock.
News of the Emperor of Iradas’ brutal murder had already begun spreading like wildfire. With Skull Island being located north-east of Valkenn, Vestus was in the right position to swoop into the Valenti territory and save the supposed Princess. Yet once again, recent statistics concerning his army and resources were not on his side.
Tourri Mar, a close friend and unexpected advisor to the King, waited patiently for Vestus as he scrambled around the mess on his desk within his small office. Her green eyes followed his every move, missing nothing, down to even the flick of his fingers as he tucked away loose pieces of paper into leather folders.
“You should really get an assistant of some kind, to help you with organisation.” she said to him.
Vestus paused, lifting his gaze to meet hers, and he gave her a half smile. “I’m looking at her.” he replied and then went back to work, clearing away all the crap he had on his desk.
Tourri Mar was pleasant looking enough. Her eyes were a brilliant green but, even then they were stark against her bright red hair, which she had slung over her shoulder in one heavy plait. She stuck her tongue out at Vestus and that action alone earned a good wad of paper being thrown her way.
“Whoops. My assistant-advisor’s going to have to pick that up for me now.” he said, regarding the mess he had now made on the floor by Tourri’s feet.
The office which Vestus called his own was nowhere near as grand or beautiful as Hathor’s had been but, he was not the Emperor of Iradas after all. If anything, Vestus was a simple man who felt he didn’t need much in life. Such a notion took people by surprise and they often mocked him, asking why he chose to leave home and become a King of his own land if not to enjoy the splendour of royal living. Vestus had left home for the purpose of finding a place to call his own. He wanted to lead people, to make something of himself which no one would have expected. For him, becoming a nobody-King of a nothing-island was more about his own pride and reputation than all the materialistic things that came with it. His throne was made of naked oak, no carvings or jewels or gold in sight, and his walls were simple grey stone, with his small banners hanging proudly from the pillars lining either side of the great hall.
“Have you made any decisions yet?” Tourri asked after some time. It was a question which she had been loathing to ask and one which Vestus understood the meaning of well.
The young King tucked away the last of his papers and sat down onto the padded leather chair behind his desk. He was exhausted, and it was not yet evening. “Was it not you who had suggested I start looking for a wife, to help me start a family of my own?” he asked her in turn. When Tourri did not reply, he nodded. “I have someone in mind.”
Tourri gritted her teeth together at his response. It had been her idea to have him look for a wife – he was a King after all, in need of a Queen. Yet something chewed on her insides, all the way down to the bottom of her stomach. It felt like paranoia, fear of getting too close to anyone too soon. She rubbed at a freckled cheek and shrugged. “What’s it to you? I advised you to find a wife, and that’s what you’re doing. You do your job as King and I’ll do mine as your advisor; I think I’ve known you long enough to know what’s best for you, Vestus.” she replied. There came a silence again over them both.
The King pretended to busy himself with writing out nothing of particular importance on a piece of paper, whilst his lovely advisor sat with her legs hanging over the arm of her own chair, fiddling with a buckle in her knee-high boots. Vestus blew some straggly blonde hair out of his face, causing Tourri to look up at him. He blinked hard at her when she raised a questioning brow at him. “What?” he asked.
“Well, aren’t you going to tell me who you’ve chosen to propose to?” the girl asked him.
Vestus placed his pen back into its ink pot and brushed the useless paper aside. He was careful not to smudge any of the ink he had scribbled down onto his clean crisp tunic, the colour of a clear sky. The ink would stain it and never come out.
“Adelaide Redbane isn’t an option and you know it.” Tourri said before her King even had a chance to fit in a word of his own. “The Emperor may be dead now but, her brothers certainly won’t let you near her, down on one knee with a ring in hand.”
Vestus scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking of her, anyway. She’s too good of a friend to ruin our relationship like that, not that it matters anyway. Hathor had betrothed her to the Prince of Bordennia before he’d died and, of course, Dominicus was overjoyed.” he paused in thought and the twitch in his jaw was enough for his advisor to know exactly what he was thinking.
Tourri swung her legs down from her chair and leant forward, flattening her palms against the King’s desk. “No, Vestus! Absolutely not. Serendipity Redbane is a lost cause, we don’t even know if she’s an actual Redbane. She has no lands to her name, just a title of Princess. What could you possibly gain from marrying her?” she said.
“Ties to the Redbanes. I could marry into the family, the only problem is – how would I get to her?”
The King’s advisor shook her head, her red hair bouncing in its band. “You don’t get to her. You leave her alone and focus on building up your own army and court before deciding to take on someone like Marcus. I love you as my best friend, Vestus but, your experience and skills in battle are lacking in comparison to Marcus Valenti. The only person who could go against him and actually stand a chance of winning was Hathor Redbane – and he’s dead. You can’t make such rash decisions, that’s why I’m here as your advisor; to advise you against such thoughts.”
Vestus nodded meekly. “No, no, I understand. I wasn’t thinking of Adelaide and, quite clearly, Serendipity Redbane isn
’t an option. That just leaves me with another.” he paused to retrieve a handkerchief from his desk drawer, sensing he was about to be sent into a coughing fit. He covered his mouth just in time to avoid spitting anything out on his advisor. He spoke again, once having regained himself. “The only other person I can think of is Miriam Ardain, Princess of Arcanta.”
Tourri felt her mouth go dry and her palms growing sweaty. The same gnawing pain in her stomach returned but, she simply forced herself to smile. “Perfect.” she finally said, after sometime. However, what she really wanted to say was no! It wasn’t because she didn’t want the best for her friend and King. It was because what she really wanted Vestus to understand was that they could not trust anyone, not now; not until they were at their full strength and they could deal the cards in this dangerous game being played. Yet, at the same time she didn’t want to seem too pushy, or like a coward refusing to join the war.
The King of Skull Island needed a bride and like every other King, he was going to find one somewhere; for the good of his land and people.
Serendipity
The Princess of Iradas felt ready to fall asleep. She was already fighting hard to keep her eyelids from closing and her body swayed a little, side to side, as she tried to remain upright in her chair.
All whilst her newly appointed tutor (thanks to Valerius) stalked up and down the small classroom deep within Valkenn Castle, drawling on and on about some political hierarchy; one which Serendipity felt bad about not having listened to properly.
“Your Majesty! Are you even listening?” Cytus Young snapped at her. Whilst the old tutor had a brilliant mind, his temper was far shorter than his memory and he was one to easily hold a grudge against the smallest of things – like students not paying attention to his lessons. He had taught Valerius when he was a young boy, having loved his eagerness to learn anything he could get his hands on; history and geography in particular.
Serendipity, however, was an entirely different matter. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to learn from him, for she found his lessons rather interesting at times. In fact, it was simply that she didn’t like having Cytus as a tutor.
“Yes, Sir.” she replied after a moment. That was another thing she hated about him; her tutor made her address him as Sir, which was all the more formal than Serendipity would have liked. She wondered how on earth Valerius managed to survive his lessons with such an arrogant and intimidating man. He was worse than Axel, as a teacher at least.
“Now, you’ll be needing to rewrite that passage from the history book we have been studying. It’s important for you to analyse and memorise the past Emperors of Iradas, especially since they are part of your ancestry.” Cytus instructed. He had already called Serendipity out for her atrocious handwriting, not to mention her spelling and an overall lack of style in writing. The only thing he had somewhat praised her for was her ability to read. Axel had at least had the decency to teach the Princess the basics in letters and such.
The Princess’ frequent trips to the library within Valkenn Castle had partly been to extend her vocabulary and perfect her reading, and partly to just get away from everything and everyone else around her. Serendipity was grateful to Valerius for having organised a tutor for her (behind his father’s back too, not to mention) but, to put it simply, Serendipity didn’t like her tutor at all.
Serendipity’s day was to be filled with lessons in politics with Cytus, basic etiquette with Soraya – who had kindly and unexpectedly offered to help the Princess, as she knew Serendipity wasn’t going to like her own teacher, Madam Iyla, at all – and then a study of literature, poetry in particular, with Cytus again. She thought her day included her tutor too much but, she didn’t want to sound ungrateful for all that Valerius had organised for her.
“How is she doing?” the young Lord asked his tutor, having slipped into the room without either Cytus nor Serendipity even realising.
The tutor let out a huff. “She isn’t as bright as you, I’ll admit that. I’m not too sure she’s even eager to learn anything I’m teaching her.” he replied. Cytus stood hunched over the Princess’ shoulder, finger poised against a textbook page as he instructed her on which passage she was to rewrite.
Serendipity rolled her eyes at him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t learn much about politics from the vegetables I picked for hours on end, back in Anderaith.” she replied.
Valerius couldn’t contain his smile. “Don’t be so hard on her, Cytus. I’ll have you know she’s very eager to learn everything you have to teach her but, belittling her certainly won’t help. She’ll be fine.” he replied.
Serendipity lifted her eyes to where Valerius stood, only she found he was not staring back; he was busy rummaging through a heavy bookcase in the far corner of the room. To her own embarrassment, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks at the mere sight of him. Gods, she felt pathetic.
“My Lord,” Cytus began to Valerius, pausing on his student’s work to address his superior. “I really don’t like having to lie to your father like this, about tutoring the Princess. The man scares me enough as it is. You’re not making me teach her anything she isn’t supposed to know about, are you?” he asked.
Valerius turned to face the tutor, and he tucked a heavy folder underneath his arm as he did. He looked rather splendid today, with his brown hair neatly combed back and his simple black tunic buttoned up beneath his chin. His dark eyes finally darted to where Serendipity sat and he flashed her a half-smile. “She’s a Princess of Iradas, what isn’t she supposed to know?” he replied. “As long as she understands the basics of politics and history, she can be free to choose whatever she wants to learn next.”
Serendipity sat up at this. The sleeves of her baby blue gown were crumpled beneath her as she had spent the last hour sitting and listening to a rather tedious lecture on the gods and both Iradas and Eradas – the earth and the underworld. “Does that mean I can skip out on the etiquette lessons?” she asked a little too eagerly.
Valerius shook his head at her. “No. You’re sorely in need of those lessons, no offense. Besides, Soraya is very excited to help you with it all. I imagine you’d want to skip out on the embroidery and music lessons, however?”
Serendipity nodded. “Definitely.”
The young Lord smiled at her again and then turned his attention back to Cytus. “Very good. I’ll be off then.” he said and went to excuse himself from the room.
“Oh, wait!” Serendipity called out to him, before he left for good. She watched as Valerius turned to face her this time. “There is one thing I’d like to learn instead. I want to learn to ride a horse, properly. If anything, I want to at least learn to be comfortable on one.” she said.
Valerius thought through her request a moment. He eventually nodded. “Very well, I’ll see it done.”
“Who will teach me?” Serendipity asked.
The Lord opened the door to the room and stepped halfway out. “I will.” he replied and then let the door close behind him as he finally left the Princess to carry on her lessons in private.
Adelaide
“I'm guessing you've got bad news for me, haven't you?” Adelaide asked as soon as she entered the hall, crossing her arms. She leaned on one of the great pillars.
“Aye, it seems the King of Faradwyn has still refused to think of your family as his ally. Too much trouble, he had said – to us, not to you.” Jasper informed her.
The Princess straightened herself up. “This man, he really doesn’t understand the importance of anything other than himself.” she replied behind clenched teeth as she walked over to a table near the throne, to pour herself a cup of wine.
“Are you OK?” Berethos asked in turn.
Adelaide nodded her head slowly and brought the cup to her lips. “This is exactly what I need right now.” she muttered and took a sip of the wine. She didn’t know what else to say about it. What else was there to be said? Except for the fact that she was not going to marry Valerius, and the Valentis were
not going to find themselves on the throne of Iradas. At least, not if she could help it. Before Adelaide’s mind could conjure up any more useless complaints about the Valentis, the door to the castle groaned in protest as it was forced open.
Two guards on duty slammed the bottom of their spears against the floor, as they welcomed an unexpected visitor into the castle. Saff Redbane entered the hall, his armour glimmering in the sunlight as he did, and he smiled when his sister finally spotted him, He put his arm around her shoulder, giving her a quick kiss on the head before he spoke.
“There's my sister, looks like my long journey here was not in vain. I thought I wouldn't find you. You seem upset.” he said and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Adelaide let out a quiet sigh and nodded. “What are you doing here, Saff? Who did you travel with?” she asked.
Saff took a step back and also leaned on one of the pillars. “Only fifty men or so.” he replied, before noting the lack of cheer in his sisters tone. “I didn't expect to arrive to a moody sister, what’s wrong?” he asked, only to find his sister shaking her head in response. He bit his bottom lip and looked down at the floor.
“What? Saff, what’s happened?” Adelaide asked, worried.
Saff took her hand and looked into her eyes. “The reason I came here, is to talk about father. He,” Saff paused and bit his bottom lip again.
“He what?” the Princess asked.
Saff let out a deep breath and clenched his fist in anger.
“He's been murdered. The bloody Valentis did this, he was at a meeting with them and he was fighting against their idea of you marrying Valerius and to find this mystery sister of ours. We tried to convince him not to go, but the guilt was eating him up he said.” he stopped and caught his breath. “It had all happened so fast, I - all of his guards had been murdered, all but one who had managed to escape and bring us this news. Father had foolishly travelled all the way to Valkenn to meet with Marcus, he had taken more than enough men but, Viktor and I had still tried to stop him from going.” he cursed uncontrollably under his breath.
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