Cyne - The Unchosen (Part I): CYNE THE UNCHOSEN, #1

By Kylie Jensen

Cynewyn is the only daughter of the Emperor of Tyne; the youngest of four siblings, her three older brothers are the focus of her father's prophetic quest for an heir. Foretold a generation ago, a Chosen One is set to lead the empire into the future and would be born to the Imperial family. Cyne knows that this prophecy refers to her and so she defied her father, stealing Imperial Priesthood documents, and slipped from the capital with a wily group of mercenaries and her loyal and noble best friend Haeth. It is a dark, dangerous, and erotic quest to find purpose and avoid her proposed marriage to Tyne's rival, Mirat, as long as possible. Being Unchosen has also set her on a path toward a destiny that she hadn't planned, a distraction that could raise her to the heavens or send her crashing to the earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223771999

Book preview

Chapter One

Cyne was sitting in her drawing room, overlooking the elaborate hedge maze and gardens outside her window. The castle had already felt too small and crowded and the influx of guests for the upcoming royal banquet, a monthly tedium, was making it worse. Her father liked to bedazzle the poor, enrich the wealthy, and keep himself apprised of any and all plots and schemes.

The grandiose chambers and rooms that the royal family inhabited, on the south side of the keep and castle, overlooked the river, Styne. The constant clear river which fed the moat and cleared farmlands around it, had barges, ferries, boats, and ships sailing up and down it all day. It was the main avenue of trade between the coastal ships and the inland forests and mountains where the river sprang.

This was the ideal location for a fortress, controlling the flow of trade and goods inland while reaping the benefits of the sea. It was quite clever of her ancestors, more precisely her great-great-great-great grandfather, to fortify this once minor hinterland stronghold into a major fortification. Of course, his father’s reconstruction of the capital city just inland, an hour by boat, was celebrated as a modern triumph of culture, science, and art. All these years later, the focus, ironically, was the fortified castle his son had designed downriver now known as Tyndros Castle.

As Cyne sat in her comfortable armchair, reading a report from her contacts in the city, a knock came at the large double doors of the chamber. Pausing, she glared at the door through honey brown eyes before answering.

Come!

Pushing the medium length but thick umber braid over her shoulder, the door swung open with a small creaking noise. Cyne’s page, a young woman in a long silken black gown dotted with white and gold lilies, stepped through. Her title and name were important, but Cyne called her Kat from the moment they met almost six years ago. She was brought to the palace as a small child by her wealthy parents to serve the royal household in whatever way the Queen saw fit. This was common and only half of the young nobles sent earn any sort of position at court. Another way her father and mother liked to enrich and incentivize the wealthy.

Kat was going to be turned away, but Cyne convinced her mother that the soft-spoken little genius was exactly the kind of friend a princess needed. The blonde haired and blue-eyed rabbit would have been eaten alive by the wolves at court if it wasn’t for Cyne but she didn’t mind. She genuinely liked Kat as she was loyal, unambitious, and wanted, more than anything, to be a scholar. She smiled kindly at Cyne when she walked in, bowing in reverence before eyeing the still open doors.

The Honorable Haethbert of Sterholm is here to see you, your imperial highness, Kat said, stepping aside for a familiar face.

Thank you, Kat, Cyne dismissed, waving at Haeth to come further into the antechamber. Bring us some wine and some of those meat-tarte things...

Their called a quiche, royal highness, Haeth smirked, bowing his auburn head slightly. He was a stocky man with light stubble and pale blue eyes, dressed casually for the flamboyant court. Kat, will you also bring some pickles, fresh goat cheese, and a tray of those tropical apples that came in this morning?

Yes, sir, Kat assured, bowing her blonde head again and backing out of the room with a smile and a thump of the door.

I don’t know what or how I would eat without you, Haeth, Cyne chuckled, folding up the letter and locking it in one of the drawers of her nearby chest. The keys she kept on a small ring around her waist, always aware of thieves and spies within the palace. So, what prompts this midday feast? Most likely bad news as it is rarely ever good news...

You’ve seen right through me as usual, he shrugged, pulling open the green robe he was wearing to reveal a piece of paper. He wore travel gear under his cloak, the fabric of the outfit unassuming but rich, his father not sparing any expense since he was a member of the royal household. I bring some reliable news from the council.

Oh, the best kind of news, Cyne smirked, reaching over, and snatching the letter from his outstretched and gloved hand. What’s going on down there? Pure madness over whatever event my mother planned this time?

Read on while I get comfortable, Haeth chuckled, moving to the plush and patterned lounger near the hearth. He slipped off his boots already and removed his gloves, so they were stuffed in the pouch inside his now discarded green cloak. I’ve been up since before dawn and need a respite before the madness.

Cyne just laughed, nodding in agreement as she crossed the room to her writing desk. Haeth had been a part of her life since she was seven; he was first a squire to her oldest brother, and crown prince, Aelfred who had always preferred the company of the highborn. Haeth’s father was the new royal butler and chamberlain at the time, so Haeth was expected to become the chamberlain, personal secretary, and companion of the crown prince and heir. That was until Haethbert of Sterholm met the Imperial Princess Cynewyn of Tyne.

Cyne sat at the desk on the cushioned but worn chair eager to see what the council had decided on several key issues she was closely watching. Her man inside the council, an agent she called Beta, was feeding her accurate updates on the empire’s many shifting policies. This letter, however, was something different. The council was meant to meet in order to finalize trade issues with the guilds, taxation on cities and Imperial Cult holdings, and the current border situation with Mirat. However, the council was quickly waylaid and slowed down by some sort of bureaucratic nonsense that Cyne saw as nothing more than delays.

Beta also wrote that a few members of the council, including the crown prince and emperor, were remaining silent on some sort of scheme. This made Cyne curious, reading the council notes, main talking points, and even the responses her father had to the meeting. It seemed he, Aelfred, and some of the other members understood what the meeting was really about and steered the council in that direction. However, several members, including Beta, didn’t understand where any of them were leading. They spoke of Mirat, the trade, military, and diplomatic relations, and about the future the two empire’s relationship. This didn’t bode well and as Cyne read further, the letter’s two pages finally culminated in her family’s ultimate, and predictable, plan. Beta might not have fully understood what her family was trying to do but to an insider, it was obvious.

Ah, I see, Cyne spoke, sighing at the pages. We knew this was coming but we just weren’t sure when.

You were right, as usual, Haeth replied, still lounging near the fireplace. You knew they’d sell you like cattle, but I didn’t think they’d wait this long to do it. What do you think the reason is?

My father used the words progress and tradition interchangeably, proposing further diplomatic channels be built with Mirat, she smirked, looking over at him. That means that he plans to sell me to some Mirati noble or prince and it will be sooner rather than later.

So, what’s the plan? Haeth asked, watching the fire. Will you run away? Fight it? Scare off the suitor like you did with that fellow from Lewyn?

Oh, the honorable Duke of Lewyn, Cyne laughed, standing from the chair again and looking out the draped windows. I didn’t mean to intimidate him but sometimes these noble men can be such unappealing and uninteresting babies.

You’re going to make a great mother, I can tell, Haeth laughed, looking up at her. So, what’s the plan? I’ve got emergency bags packed in my chambers and we can contact Gris for passage and papers.

I’m aware, but we must do it quickly, quietly, and without suspicion, Cyne warned, watching the influx of horse-drawn carriages for the celebrations that day. So go, gather what we need and meet me in the stables. I’ll change and we’ll go to the boat.

There are a lot of guards today, he warned, taking a deep breath before sitting up. There was a knock on the door at that point and Haeth jumped, turning to poke at the fireplace. It was only Kat, who brought in the tray of food and wine before disappearing again through the double doors with a kind smile.

You can’t leave just yet, Cyne said, making sure Kat had left. Eat, drink, steel yourself for the days to come.

You too, my empress, he insisted, uncovering the plates of fresh food and strong drink. Eat a good meal because I cannot guarantee the same quantity on the road. I can produce excellent quality, of that there is no doubt, but quantity will be sparse as the season is still early.

And the route?

It’s definitely off the beaten trek, he affirmed, pouring them both a glass of wine now as he turned back from the fire. We won’t be staying at many nice inns or taverns, but we will get to Bolltree to setup the meet.

How is it that you are always so well prepared? Cyne asked, admiring Haeth for his understanding. She never had to explain or justify to Haeth and it was always refreshing to encounter him. Like an oasis in a desert of questions like why and what and where.

We’ve been talking about this possibility since you were twelve years old, he laughed, handing her the glass of wine. And we’ve been through more than one drill but this one I can sense is real...

My mother will come to affirm my prescience at the feast and do her usual primping, Cyne shrugged, eating some of the quiche hungrily before sitting back down in her chair. And no doubt Aelfred and his sycophants will be roaming the gardens and the great hall. It will make it more difficult to leave unnoticed.

We can leave before the feast even starts, Haeth commented, eating some of the fruit and cheese. If we are quick, we can be out of the castle and to the boats within an hour.

I’ll have to be seen, talked to, and acknowledged by the court before I can disappear from a feast, Cyne insisted, downing the whole glass of wine, and finishing the quiche. She grabbed some cheese and a pickle, eating hungrily as Haeth happily refilled both their glasses. "It might take me two hours to escape but we’ll head straight for the capital. We need to get to Bolltree as quickly as possible so that by the time my family realizes that I intentionally ran from my