The Noble's Daughter: Siveene Trilogy Book One

By Rayven Thorne

The talent-less and naive daughter of a noble, Siveene seeks purpose in her mundane life. Her eighteenth birthday will bring that purpose, although in a way she never could have expected. Through tragedy and fate she is flung into a world of lies, magic and spirits where she discovers she is the sole remaining heir to ancient contracts between the human and spirit worlds. Alone and terrified, she must learn the truth behind her new purpose while surviving the dangerous world surrounding her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rayven Thorne
• Release date: Apr 14, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301602339

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The Noble’s Daughter

Siveene Trilogy – Book One

by Rayven Thorne

Smashwords Edition

Cover Art by Anthony Gregorash

Copyright 2013 Rayven Thorne

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Chapter One

Siveene slowly opens her eyes to a sprawling blue sky. The sun is warm on her face, the breeze soft and soothing. She hears the sound of rustling leaves as the breeze flows through the trees nearby. She turns to her side to see where she is and notices that she is surrounded by wildflowers of every color. They stretch over hills into the distance, finally meeting with the mountains and forest. She also hears the sound of running water, perhaps from a creek or river nearby. Birds sing to each other on the wind and butterflies flutter past in all of their delicate glory from flower to flower. This place is perfect, as it always has been.

I am here again, she says to herself, knowing exactly the place she has returned to.

Ah, you are awake, a man's voice says softly. I have been waiting for you.

She turns in the direction of the voice to see the familiar face of Lazren smiling down upon her. The sunlight filters through his long strands of blonde hair that softly wisp upon the breeze. As always, he is beautiful to look upon. She smiles at him warmly. Were you watching me again?

Yes, I was indeed, he replies. His expression is warm and welcoming, like that of a very good friend. You know how much I enjoy watching you sleep. It warms my heart to see you resting so peacefully, but I admit my heart also anxiously awaits the moment when you will wake and be with me again.

Lazren, you are such a hopeless romantic, she says, still smiling up at him from the ground. You always wait for me as if I were going to disappear forever. When I wake, every time I return to this place, you are always right here by my side. I wonder, do you actually do anything of enjoyment without me? Or do you always just wait so foolishly, depriving yourself of personal freedom?

You may deem it foolish, but for me there is nothing enjoyable to partake in unless you are here with me. You are all that I desire to be happy in this place, he says, his voice soft and gentle. I will always be waiting here for you, wanting to hear your voice and enjoy your company.

He reaches his hand to her face, brushing her cheek gently. She closes her eyes and sighs, his touch comforting her as always. He is always so romantic and speaks to her with such kind and loving words. She has wondered for so many years why he is always here, always waiting, and this world always so perfect. This is her escape, the place where she and Lazren have grown up together. She drifts into memories of times past and of playing with Lazren here when she was small. They are good memories, and for a moment she giggles to herself softly as she reminisces.

Siveene, do you think you can stay here with me for a while? Lazren inquires, his voice still soft but now expressing a hint of sadness. You have only just awoke, but our time together always seems so short. I really wish for you to stay a bit longer than usual. I have deeply missed you.

She opens her eyes and looks up at him, smiling with the beautiful smile that always warms his heart like a thousand rays of sunlight.

You are always so worried, she says. Have I not told you before that you have become too serious?

She quickly sits up and looks to the ground next to her, examining and plucking three wildflowers from their stems. She turns to Lazren and hastily shoves the flowers into his long blonde hair. Quickly she then hurries to her feet and says to him, Catch me if you can! and scurries away through the field of flowers that surrounds them.

Lazren laughs at her sudden burst of childlike energy then gives chase. You never tire of this childish game, do you? he shouts to her while running. He thinks to himself how happy he is in this moment, to be with her, even if it is just a simple game of pursuit. He lives for these moments, and for every part of her life he is allowed to share with her. It is everything to him. Nothing else matters.

Siveene laughs as she runs, the feel of the soft, cool grass under her feet a familiar sensation. The two of them run through the fields with playful vigor toward the forest, finally reaching the creek at the tree line.

Siveene hurries to cross the creek before Lazren catches her. She hastily jumps from stone to stone, trying to keep her balance so she does not get wet. As she reaches the last stone she missteps and slips, losing her balance. Just as she braces for impact with the water, she feels the strong grip of Lazren's arms catching her just in time.

You always find a way to make even the most childish of things interesting, Siveene, he says with a smile. He helps her to the bank of the creek slowly and then happily escorts her to the forest tree line. By the way, your stone jumping skills were your demise. I have caught you!

Siveene smiles and shrieks, realizing he had taken advantage of her slip to win their little game. She turns to escape, but Lazren grabs hold and quickly starts tickling her until she falls to the ground laughing hysterically. He tumbles to the ground next to her, laughing along with her at their childlike enjoyment.

They lie there together for a short while as they catch their breath. When the laughter finally wears off they simply enjoy gazing up at the sky, watching the puffy clouds pass overhead like they used to do when they were younger. Lazren leans over Siveene to gaze upon her face, her cheeks still flush from running and laughing so hard. He smiles down at her with a bittersweet ache in his heart, aware that their moment together will not last much longer.

Siveene's cloud gazing is interrupted when Lazren asks, Siveene, do you love me?

Her expression changes instantly with his question, her eyes becoming large and confused as she sits up and meets his gaze. You have never asked me such a question before, Lazren. Is something wrong?

He pauses for a moment then looks away from her. No, he says, there is nothing for you to worry about. Do not fret.

Siveene cannot help but wonder why he suddenly just asked her such an odd question. It is true that he is very romantic, always so sweet and kind to her. She has shared this place with him her entire life, growing up with him and sharing her thoughts with him. She can tell him anything. He never judges her, never raises his voice, and he always comforts her when she needs it most. But to ask such a thing is out of character for him, and quite frankly, startling for her to hear. Does she love him? For a few moments she sits in silence, searching her heart for the answer to this question. As she delves into her emotions in search of the answer, she begins to grow tired. Her limbs have become heavy and her mind is quickly becoming clouded.

She looks to Lazren, her eyes quickly becoming harder and harder to keep open. She reaches to touch his face, his warm skin so soft and inviting. I am growing weak again, Lazren, but I do not wish to go yet. Why is our time always so short?

I know, he says, stroking her sandy brown hair as she sits there next to him. It is okay to let slumber overtake you. Remember, I will always be here waiting for you. There is no need to fight it.

She smiles at him, her hand slowly falling from his cheek to land softly beside her. Her energy has left her and she finds herself leaning gently against him as she slowly drifts to unconsciousness. Her confused thoughts remain with her, her heart still pondering Lazren's question of 'love'.

He observes her as she lies there now sleeping against him, knowing it will be some time before she wakes again. He leans toward her slowly and kisses her lightly on the forehead. Letting out a soft sigh, he brushes her hair from her eyes and shifts to a more comfortable position. His heart already aching with anticipation, he whispers to her, Live well, my precious queen. My heart awaits your return.

Chapter Two

Siveene wakes to the warmth of sunlight upon her face, the rays shining brightly through the windows of her room. It is already morning. The smell of the climbing wisteria blooming around her balcony lightly dances through the room as songbirds sing merrily to each other outside the windows. Such a lovely morning, she thinks to herself.

She lies there for a moment lingering upon the dream she has just had. However, her thoughts are quickly interrupted by a sudden knocking at her bedroom door.

Lady Siveene, are you awake? Breakfast has already been prepared. You are quite late my lady! a voice nervously shouts through the bedroom door. Siveene recognizes the voice as Sara, one of the manor servants. Your mother is already waiting for you in the garden, so you must make haste in readying yourself. Would you like help dressing, my lady?

Siveene lets out a long sigh, wondering what wonderfully boring activity her mother has prepared for the day. She knows whenever her mother insists they enjoy breakfast together that there is something unpleasant on the horizon. Thank you, but I can manage it myself today, Sara. Tell my dear mother I will be there shortly.

As you wish my lady, Sara replies through the door. A moment later, Sara's footsteps can be heard trailing off down the hall.

Still lying on her bed, Siveene rolls to her back with a sigh. Her mind wanders for a moment, eventually returning to the events of last night's dream. She wonders why she must always wake from that dream, from that perfect place that she loves with all her heart. She truly wishes she could stay in that dream instead of the physical world. At least there she is wanted and loved. There are no enemies or servants there, only she and Lazren. He is always so gentle and kind, not to mention handsome and romantic. She reflects upon him a moment, his perfect smile still fresh in her mind. She fondly reminisces of his soft skin and how his long glittering light blonde hair frames his face perfectly. When he leans over her she loves how his hair falls around her, nearly as long as her own. His smiling eyes are the color of the greenest leaves, so vivid they almost seem unnatural. His sweet, gentle voice comforts her with every word he speaks, and even his slender, muscular body has stirred desires within her lately that cause her to blush.

He has always been there, waiting within her dream world for as long as she can remember. She has pondered his presence and that of her oddly perfect dream world many times, but has never been able to determine the reason for their existence. She accepted long ago that she is simply different that way, and that perhaps her dream world and Lazren can only be rationalized as part of her subconscious filling a void in her life she is unaware of. Even if that is true, she still desires to see him every time she closes her eyes.

If only he were a real living person, she thinks to herself. If he were out there somewhere, alive and breathing as she is now, she would do anything to find him. She has never cared for someone as much as she cares for him, aside from her Father. As her mind drifts she finds herself pondering his question to her before she awoke, his sweet and gentle voice almost quivering as the words passed his lips. Do you love me? She already knows the answer to his question in her heart, but in reality such an answer means nothing. He is simply a dream she wishes she could manifest into reality. In this moment she scolds herself for wanting such a thing. She wonders, why does she not dream of other things like everyone else does? Why only of him? It is a question she has never been able to answer. Her subconscious is truly cruel.

Switching her focus so as not to dwell upon it, she tosses off the blankets and sits up stretching out her arms with a yawn. She fixes the rumples in her nightgown as she stands to walk over to her closet. What should I wear? she asks herself out loud, sifting through the dresses one by one. A burgundy dress catches her eye and she decides that is the dress she shall wear today. She pulls it from the closet and quickly gathers fresh undergarments to change into.

Hmmm, she says to herself, struggling to get the bodice laced. I really should have had Sara stay and assist me after all. Mother will be displeased if I keep her waiting too long. She struggles with the dress laces for a few more minutes but finally finishes tying the dress bodice and sleeves.

That task completed, she walks to the mirror to tidy her hair, pinning a few burgundy colored ribbons in it for extra measure. She quickly washes her face and applies a hint of rouge. Now ready, she opens the bedroom door and hastily makes her way down the hall.

The manor is bustling today, as always. The servants move through the corridors doing their duties (paying no attention to her) as she passes by them. She notices as she makes her way down the corridors that they are rearranging the paintings again and some areas of the manor are even being repainted. She is unsure why they do this as not but six months ago it had already been done. She assumes her mother has changed her mind once again and has had them begin redecorating to suit her latest desires.

Nevertheless, the manor is always quite beautiful. Inside the decor is nearly equal to that of a palace, the high ceilings, marble floors and exquisitely crafted furnishings rivaling many other noble homes. The outside includes expansive gardens and terraces, the pristine white walls and columns alive with beautiful ivy and climbing flowers. For a simple nobleman's manor, it surely seems fit for a prince or princess. The beauty this place surrounds her with is one of the few things she enjoys about living in the manor. She has a wonderful view from her bedroom balcony, the gardens are always blooming with life and color, and the ponds and fountains are a wonderful retreat when she wishes to relax after a long day of study. However, her responsibilities prevent her from enjoying any of these things very often.

Entering the final hallway before reaching the garden's entrance, Siveene begins mulling over the possibilities as to her mother's beckoning. She and her mother have never had a very good relationship. No matter how hard she has tried to gain her love and affection she has always been refused. Mother only seems to lavish such emotions on her Father. She has tried so many times to at least once hear her say, I love you, or I am proud of you. But her attempts are in vain, always brushed aside as if she were a peasant begging for scraps. She finally came to the conclusion several years ago that she is nothing but a disappointment to her Mother and that her affections will never be returned no matter how hard she tries.

The moment she clears the doorway she can see her mother sitting in the rose garden gazing off seemingly at nothing. She is dressed regally as ever, almost out of place in her lavish appearance. She wonders sometimes if perhaps her mother dresses in such a manner to impress other nobles and officials who occasionally pass through the manor, though she does not understand why that would matter. As she approaches her mother turns to face her, having heard her footsteps upon the stone pathway. Her face wears a cold and bitter expression, making it clear to Siveene that she has been waiting quite impatiently for her arrival.

Siveene, you are late, as usual, she says angrily. Dear girl, when will you learn to act like a responsible adult!? Seat yourself over here. They are fetching tea and cakes for us already.

Yes Mother, she says obediently while slightly rolling her eyes in frustration. She sits down politely across from her mother, making sure to properly adjust her dress as she sits to prevent being scolded further. She knows whenever she keeps her mother waiting that it puts her into a foul mood. Aside from that, she knows whenever her mother requests to meet her for breakfast it is almost always to discuss something her mother believes is important. The subject is nearly always horribly boring or bothersome, or at least that is her own general opinion of it. Of course, she has never told her mother such a thing openly, lest she be quickly punished for her insolence.

Sara did instruct me to arrive here quickly. I do apologize for being late, as I have no excuse, she says, fully aware her mother will be unhappy no matter what excuse she would try to give. Please, forgive me.

She pauses a moment, anticipating her mother's cold words to lash out at her again. Surprised to be met with silence instead, she decides to quickly take advantage and change the subject. Is there something you wish to speak with me about?

Yes, there is, her mother replies sharply. Your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow, Siveene. As you are aware, there has been much effort put forth in orchestrating a celebration for you at the royal palace. Many of the kingdom's nobles will be in attendance, and the King and Queen are even expected. It is crucially important that you arrive at the palace on time and in the appropriate attire.

I do not understand, Mother, Siveene says, confused by her mother's statement. Will I not be traveling to the palace with you and Father?

No, she replies with a sigh, her irritation becoming obvious. We are leaving ahead of you. Your father and I will be departing tonight. We have been requested to meet with other nobles ahead of your arrival to discuss a few outstanding political matters. I surely hope this is not a problem for you, is it? she says in a rather nasty tone, hinting at her displeasure of any objection.

Of course not, Mother. I was simply curious, she says. Forgive my continued prodding, but may I ask who will be escorting me to the palace tomorrow?

"A carriage will be waiting for you. Please ensure you are in the proper attire and waiting at the manor gate before the noon hour. Do not be late." She looks away from Siveene after making her statement, as if disgusted to even look upon her now. She leans her head on her hand, staring off at the mountains in the distance.

Siveene realizes her mother has said all that she cares to and has already grown distaste for her presence. However, she cannot help but ask the burning question that has haunted her for several days now. Mother, may I ask you something? she says, knowing her question could cause her more trouble than hearing the answer is worth.

Yes, what is it? her mother replies coldly, making it clear that any further conversation is simply nuisance to her now.

If I may be so bold to ask, why are their Majesties celebrating my birthday with such an elaborate event? I am simply the daughter of a noble house, not a royal heir or even a potential key political influence. I do not understand their reasoning. Children of other noble families are not treated to such luxury, so why have I been deemed worthy of it?

Her mother lets out a deep sigh in irritation, looking down for a moment, then back toward the mountains in the distance. Siveene, for some reason I have never been able to fathom, you have always been the Queen's favorite amongst the noble children. You even lived at the palace for several years with some of your cousins at her personal request. If she chooses to celebrate your birthday with a royal gathering at the palace you have no right to question it and neither do I. Doing so would insult her Majesty greatly. In all these years I have never understood what she sees in you. You should be grateful you are cared for so deeply by such important people, Siveene.

Yes Mother, she replies with a humble nod.

Now then, if you are finished asking foolish questions, there is another item I wish to discuss with you. She takes a moment to turn and look toward Siveene, ensuring her attention to what she is about to say.

Of course, Mother. Please continue.

A specific dress has been sent for you to wear to the celebration tomorrow. It will be delivered to your room this evening. Do not be alarmed when you lay eyes upon it, and do not ask why it was sent for you. It was hand-picked for you by the Queen herself, so you must wear it for the event. Please be sure nothing happens to it in your daily clumsiness. It would be a disgrace to our family if you managed to ruin it before ever reaching the palace.

Her mother's words are cold and demeaning as usual. She tries not to let them affect her. Though she wishes to speak her mind when her mother degrades her, she simply holds it in, answering with a polite, I understand, Mother.

Your father and I will be departing just before sunset. If there is anything you require please ask the servants to assist you. In the morning you are to allow them to dress you and prepare your hair for the ceremony. They have already been instructed. You must absolutely look your best. Do you understand?

Yes Mother, I understand. I will do as you ask.

Good. You may take your leave now. Your tutors are waiting for you in the library. Do not keep them waiting as you did me today. Without proper study you will never become anyone of importance. She looks away from Siveene again, motioning for her to leave her presence.

Just as Siveene stands and curtseys to show her mother the proper respect before departing the servant finally arrives with the tea. Aware that her mother is already intolerant of her continued presence, she exits the garden in order to allow her mother to enjoy her tea in the solitude she seems to prefer so much.

Siveene was hoping her mother would have given her leniency in her studies today since her birthday celebration is tomorrow. However, she knew she should not have expected such luck to come her way. Her tutors will likely give her more work than usual simply because tomorrow is her birthday, at her mother's request of course. Mother is always so hard on her, making her study such strange things for long hours. She has studied subjects that most nobles consider unnecessary, ridiculous, and otherwise impractical. It has been this way for many years, but her parents have never fully explained the reason for such a strange education. She wonders if it is because she has failed to become someone of 'importance' as her mother says, not particularly excelling in any one subject or talent that could be of use to a noble house or its prosperity.

As she wanders down the corridors towards the library Siveene begins thinking about the friends who used to come to the manor to visit her regularly. They stopped coming a few years ago, most having been married off by their parents for one reason or another. Most of them now have children and families of their own. There is no time for socializing with her anymore. She wonders for a moment why her parents have never chosen a suitor for her. Is it because she is an embarrassment to them? Is she so poorly talented that she will not make a suitable wife for another noble's son? She has asked herself these questions countless times. She feels so worthless. She wishes for the day she can finally find her purpose, a purpose so grand that her parents will be proud to have her as their daughter. Perhaps then she could finally warm her mother's cold heart.

Not paying attention to her surroundings, she is brought to reality as she nearly runs into a maid servant who is cleaning a vase in the corridor. Shaking off her thoughts she follows the long hallway past the bathing chambers, finally rounding the corner where the library entrance awaits her. She stops just before opening the door, letting out a loud sigh. Off I go, she whispers to herself, attempting to mentally prepare for the days lessons.

She quietly opens the door and enters the library. The familiar smell of parchment and old books greets her, the room dry and dimly lit as always. Though a library, the great room is typically humming with activity. However, she notices immediately that the room is unusually silent and that her tutors are nowhere to be found. She wonders where they could have gone but assumes the possibility that they are running late due to some unforeseen event. She also knows her tardiness could have caused them to grow rather impatient and they simply left in their frustration. It has indeed happened before, although it is less likely the case since they were reprimanded in the past by her Mother for their apparent lack of dedication to their duties.

She slowly walks through the library, searching between the crowded bookshelves and sitting areas as she searches for signs of her tutors’ whereabouts. Just as she reaches the last bookshelf, she hears giggling and whispers outside the nearby window. Curious, she stealthily positions herself against the inside window frame and peeks out silently, careful not to be caught by whomever is outside. To her surprise the voices are those of her tutors as well as two servant girls, all huddled together as if discussing a secret of some kind. She wonders what they could possibly be discussing, so she decides to patiently stay hidden and eavesdrop just for a moment. Perhaps something interesting is afoot.

Did you see the dress? one of the servants asks the others.

Oh yes! It was delivered early this morning. It is beautiful, fit for a royal even! I can't believe they sent it for her, especially in that color, the other servant says.

Really? What color is it?! the others ask in near unison.

It is a deep blue, like the flowers that bloom over the terrace, she replies. I could not believe it when I opened the box!

But why would they send her a blue one? She is not allowed to wear that!

Who knows? Maybe it is because it is for her birthday. After all, they are holding a huge celebration at the palace for her. I do not understand why, but the Queen really seems to favor her so perhaps it is a present to her just for tomorrow. It is really hard to say. It really is a shame to waste such a regal dress on her though.

I wish we could go to the palace. I am so jealous! What is it about her that the Queen likes so much anyway? Lady Siveene is not good at anything, no matter what she is taught. She is awfully lacking in intelligence and talent for a noble if you ask me, the servant says.

The group erupts in laughter at the comment, their smiles and joyful voices stabbing Siveene deeply within her heart.

How dare you! Siveene shouts at them from the window, unable to bear their mockery. Be mindful whom you speak of behind their backs!

The servants and tutors gasp and immediately turn to see Siveene's angry face glaring at them from the window above. They are stunned, realizing immediately that Siveene had been listening in on their conversation. They could be thrown into prison for speaking such derogatory words about her. Their carelessness may have just cost them dearly. In a panic, they scramble to calm Siveene's temper, lest they be punished to the extreme for their actions.

Lady Siveene, wait! Please forgive us! You misunderstand! We did not mean it that way! their voices plead in hopes of extinguishing her rage.

As tears begin to well up in her eyes Siveene says nothing, but instead turns away from them and quickly dashes out of the library. Her mind is overrun with angry thoughts as she runs through the manor. How could they say such things about her? She has always tried so hard and been so diligent in her education. She has no idea why the Queen favors her, so why should she be punished for something she does not control? She never asked for such kindness. Such cruel people. She wonders if they have always talked about her behind her back like this, mocking her as an ignorant girl incapable of anything worthwhile. Does everyone in the manor think so little of her?

Her anger and sorrow burn within her chest, tears now streaming down her face. She runs through the halls paying no attention to who she passes. Her mind is fixated upon her own suffering and escaping to safe solitude. The servants turn and stare out of curiosity as she rushes past them. She finally reaches her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Throwing herself onto her bed, she weeps into her pillow while clutching it tightly.

She lies there for several minutes, sobbing away her anger and sadness in her solitude. Her heart is tormented by thoughts of isolation, anger and sadness. She is angry at how everyone acts as though she is incapable of doing anything on her own, let alone do it well. Hurtful words they speak, even laughing at her expense. The painful reality of it all sets in, the memories of her mother's lifelong dissatisfaction rearing its head as well. She wonders, is she so unworthy of respect and love that she will continue through such torment from all who surround her for the rest of her life?

Several more minutes pass and eventually her sobs turn into soft whimpers. Her anger is fading, self-pity having efficiently taken its place. Her self-loathing and sorrow are interrupted by a knock at her bedroom door.

Lady Siveene, is everything okay? a voice asks. It is one of the servants, but Siveene does not recognize the voice as either of the two servants who were there at the library confrontation earlier.

She dries her eyes for a moment, lying in