Under the Twilight Veil

By J.B. Thomas

In the Four Realms, arranged marriage is strictly forbidden.

The four queendoms that form the realms have lived in relative peace for centuries, and Princess Halyna of Demeterra enjoys her mostly solitary and perfectly dull royal life. But tensions between Demeterra and Silvervale have risen as the queen of Silvervale's ambitions and thirst for power have become extreme, disrupting Halyna's quiet way of life.

When presented with an ultimatum, Halyna will have to give up everything she knows and make a life-changing choice––marry Prince Lorys of Silvervale or allow her realm to go to war.

She agrees to marry the prince, a man who is known across the realms to be as cruel and formidable as his ambitious mother, but as soon as the wedding is underway, the High Goddess of sacred vows appears before them and enacts a curse on the realms as punishment for the marriage and their families' greed. The curse is one of darkness, a veil of gray that steals away the sun. Ceaseless dusk settles over the realm, and the queens fear that the plants and animals of the realms will begin to die, and the temperature will plummet, putting their people in grave danger.

As the newly bonded pair traverses the realms trying to find answers, searching for long-forgotten oracles, and uncovering family secrets, they discover their greatest challenge is not lifting the curse but will be confronting their growing feelings for one another.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Island Roses Press
• Release date: Mar 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215402900

Book preview

1

HALYNA

The long-held peace in Demeterra was hanging by a thread.

What if we stop the trade all together?

Perfect idea. Let’s completely cut ourselves and Silvervale off from trade accord. That will show them.

Halyna wondered if she could slide under the table and crawl out of the room unnoticed. She picked at the fraying threads and intricate beadwork on her emerald gown, trying to avoid eye contact or having to speak with these idiots. These courtiers and nobles constantly bickered about harvests, laborers, and wagons returning from neighboring lands far lighter than they should be. It’s not that she didn’t care about the problems Demeterra faced. In fact, she cared much more than these squabbling nobles. What she didn’t care to hear anymore were the same arguments about the same things week after week, having come up with no solutions that will make the trade accord between Demeterra and Silvervale balanced once again. This was a stroke of egos, power plays, feign caring, ways for them to claim the high prices of their goods were not paid to them, and the crown needed to either pay the dividends or make Silvervale pay. Make a statement, they’d say. Never actually saying that they craved violence, but Halyna could understand the inferred meaning easily enough. So, she sat, as stoic as she could, willing herself not to erupt at the room. She had never had an outburst in a council meeting, but her fuse was closer to the lit match with every meeting she attended.

Satisfied that everyone in the room had the chance to share their thoughts, and likely tired of the bickering, Queen Clea silenced them with a slender hand that glowed gold in the oppressive sunlight. The sun goddess, Anine, certainly favored Demeterra. The rays shone through the floor to ceiling windows along the far wall of the meeting room, reflecting not only her radiant skin, but the glittering rings that adorned each of her fingers. Nearing the end of her long reign as queen and the goddess of creation and fertility had its advantages.

Thank you all for your contributions to this meeting. We will reconvene next week when I’ve had time to consider what we discussed today, Clea said, soft in tone, but with an edge of finality. None would challenge Clea. She was a smart and fair ruler, having never led her people astray. Halyna had known nothing but peace and tranquility in her brief life, and she was confident that Clea wouldn’t let that change.

The room cleared quickly enough that Halyna thought she’d be able to push out with the crowd unnoticed, but her mother’s voice, using that same soft tone, lilted behind her.

Halyna, please return to your seat. We have much still to discuss. She turned back and sat down with as much grace as she could muster, catching a smirk on her father’s face. If King Ardith couldn’t escape this boring business with feuding lands, neither would she. She sighed. She knew it was time now for her to take council seriously and learn to manage the room, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to care about the opinions of these wealthy cowards who had no intentions of changing Demeterra or themselves.

Mother, I wish I had something to add to this conversation, but it has been the same issue for almost a year now. Can we just talk to Queen Amalia to solve this trade issue between Demeterra and Silvervale? Halyna asked.

The threats of war between the two lands were more to satisfy the royals’ and gods’ and goddesses’ natural instincts for violence. Immortal life leads to boredom, which then leads to the creation of problems that may not otherwise exist. This particular quarrel would be solved relatively easily with proper communication between the two queendoms. Queen Clea is capable of fair and rational communication, however, Queen Amalia is most likely not.

I will send another white raven to her today, but I fear it will not be well received. She’s not the type of queen that will kindly accept accusations of unfair trade practices, her mother replied.

Amalia doesn’t do most things kindly, Ardith added, still smirking at his daughter.

Clea surveyed her and Ardith. She’d lost their interest entirely, if she ever had it at all. You two are dismissed, but Halyna, please know that my problems will be your problems far sooner than you think.

Halyna looped her arm through her father’s waiting elbow, and they left the meeting hall together. If her mother was light and radiance, her father was the moon and stars. His skin was the color of a dark amber sunset and midnight black hair was a sharp contrast to the queen.

You know I hate those meetings as much as you do, dear, but you mother is right. You will have to deal with this on your own soon. We believe our time as rulers is nearing an end, he whispered as we walked through the bustling castle halls. You should also consider marrying.

Halyna shot him a look, willing herself to appear incredulous, but his twinkling dark eyes met her stare, alight with mischief. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, although there wasn’t much else for her to say. She knew what he said was true. Her parents would likely take their leave and retire to the Allucian Hills, where all the royal goddesses and gods go to spend their later years. Free of their previous century’s responsibilities of royal politics, only continuing the roles as goddesses until their death, their heirs running the queendoms in their stead. Marrying was unnecessary for goddesses with such great power, but considered wise. Very few queens in the Four Realms have ever married for power or alliance, but for love and support. It has been this way for a thousand years. Each queen and goddess have their own power both literally and in a political sense, bestowed on them before their 25 th birthdays by the High Council Goddesses. The actual powers they wield are usually only parlor tricks, growing flowers or changing tides, but the power itself needs a strong, capable vessel so it can carry out the functions of a large and fruitful realm. There has never been a need for marriage alliances, particularly considering gods have no power in the Four Realms. Their only gift being their eternal life, even so, that is only bestowed upon them to support goddesses during their reign. Halyna knew very few Demeterran gods she tolerated and knew none that she could love.

Her father kissed her hand and nodded goodbye as they arrived at the door to her chambers. Larissa was waiting for her inside, a bath already drawn, and her night clothes set atop the side table.

Larissa, you are my favorite handmaid. I hope you know that, she said with a long exhale.

Larissa smiled at her and nodded her thanks. I know. I am your favorite person in the realm, she replied, winked, and dismissed herself before Halyna could.

There were no others in their household that could read Halyna’s stony temperament and know what she needed before she even did. Larissa had been her closest confidant and supporter since she was just a small child. Larissa was not a mortal, but also not a goddess with immense power. She was, like many in the Four Realms, something in between. Many centuries of diluted bloodlines have created mortal appearing goddesses and gods with long lifespans but little or no power.

Halyna undressed and pulled the combs and pins out of her mass of auburn hair, letting it fall all around her and scrubbing the pads of her fingers into her scalp to release the tension of this day. She stepped into the burning hot water, just how she liked it. Larissa had once said she made the water hot enough to melt the ice in Halyna’s veins. She wasn’t unkind or disrespectful, but just far more brusque than her mother or father. They were light and love, and she was a sullen 23-year-old goddess that didn’t want to be tied down to a queendom for the rest of her extraordinarily long life. The sun sank down below the horizon and washed her queendom in a coppery orange light that would soon turn dark. From the window in her bathing chamber, she watched the white raven her mother had pledged to send leave the aviary, and bank over the Allium River before flying toward the queendom of Silvervale.

When the white raven returned two days later, Halyna knew that the contents of the letter were not favorable. Queen Clea had called a meeting but only for her family and most trusted advisors, and Demeterra rarely held closed meetings. Larissa picked out a dress for her. Demeterra was extremely hot, and she donned a thin silky dark purple gown with off shoulder straps, then pinned her wavy hair away from her face.

Seems like the news from Silvervale is grim, Larissa commented through the pins she held in her mouth.

It could be grim, or it could just be more frustration and juvenile quarreling. Either way, I’m sure it will not provide a resolution that doesn’t end in cruelty or bloodshed.

Practice your fake smile now then, princess, Larissa said, smirking as she stabbed the last of the pins into Halyna’s hair.

This was not ideal, and the whole queendom had received word of the white raven. The morale amongst the castle staff must be low if Larissa had remarked on it.

The hall was quiet as the few important staff and family headed toward the meeting hall where Queen Clea would wait for them. Halyna entered the silent, warm room and surveyed her mother’s face. Her eyes narrowed and the few lines that crossed Clea’s face were more visible with tension. She guessed the news was grim. Or at least not something that Queen Clea was happy to share with the small inner circle of advisors. Her father walked in behind her and nearly bumped into her back. When she realized she wasn’t moving, she hurried to her seat and glanced at her father, expecting to see something more than a fake smile. His face wasn’t joyous and readable as usual, but something different lined his face, very different from what she saw in her mother. Apologetic, or possibly shameful. A rare emotion for her normally vibrant father.

Queen Clea stood at the head of the long meeting table. King Ardith to her right and Halyna to her left. Only the Master of Treasury, Olin, and the Master of Arms, Carys, joined them in this meeting.

We’ve received word from Queen Amalia.…it is not what I expected, her mother began.

King Ardith bowed his head slightly, avoiding eye contact with the others at the table, especially Halyna. Her heart quickened. She knew whatever came next was serious and it immediately filled her with regret over asking her mother to send a raven to the Silvervale queen.

Silvervale is not pleased that my letter seemed accusatory, and she feels her queendom has been slighted. She now claims we’ve sent them inferior products but received the best Silvervale offers in return. Clea bunched up her eyebrows before sighing and continuing. These are clearly just lies, and her way of twisting and spinning our words back on us. She gave us few options that she feels would remedy this situation. The Queen’s soft eyes settled on Halyna now, and she picked up the letter and read it word for word.

Amalia writes, ‘Silvervale will send their guard to the Demeterra border to oversee the trade and determine what they feel is an appropriate and equal exchange. If this is not done according to the terms Silvervale has set forth, they will select appropriate punishments for the people of Demeterra.’ There is no word on whether our guard could do the same, Clea said.

Halyna contemplated what this would mean for them, to live under the thumb of the famed cruelty of the Silvervale guards. Amalia had let her military run wild in previous years. They provide beatings to those who commit slight offenses and worse to those only accused of more grievous ones. She shuttered at the thought of what they would do if they were let loose on Demeterra.

That hardly seems like a favorable solution, Carys said.

I don’t believe it is, and Ardith feels the same. However, we’re not sure the second option will win much favor either, Clea said, looking at Halyna before reading the rest of the letter.

‘The secondary option, one that would ensure equal commitment and interest in the trade relations between Silvervale and Demeterra, is a union between the Prince of Silvervale, Lorys, to the Princess of Demeterra, Halyna. They would reside at the border stronghold of Alke Terrene until that Halyna becomes queen of Demeterra’. Clea set the paper on the table and watched Halyna, likely expecting an outburst or at least a vehement reaction.

Amalia must have lost her mind. Arranged marriage is forbidden, Master Olin said.

The Council hasn’t been seen or heard for decades. This will probably not even be something they would bother considering, let alone punish for, and Amalia is too arrogant and reckless to think otherwise, Master Carys added.

Should the Council have objections, they should direct them at Amalia and Silvervale. They’re demanding we choose between two unfavorable situations with little benefit to Demeterra, and the potential of war and loss of life. Not to mention Queen Amalia’s feelings toward her son are far different from how we feel about Halyna. Lorys is just a soldier to her, a pawn in all her games. She’s happy to ship him off. She has her daughter, Ariana, to take her throne when the time comes. He’s there to fulfill a purpose for her regardless of the consequences, King Ardith replied.

They all focused on Halyna, but she was too stunned to speak. Prince Lorys was said to be heartless and cruel. His temperament was as dark and stormy as the Vale Seas. She had asked for a resolution, one that would finish this unending fight between the two queendoms. She never would have thought this would be the answer Silvervale would present to them. In all of her considerations of marriage, none of the Demeterran gods were appealing to her. She had only considered them for the fulfillment of her needs, and she supposed theirs as well, letting no relationship become more serious than a few sweaty nights in a hidden place. How could she marry a god from a rival queendom that she had never met?

They were all staring at her expectantly. The heat crept up her chest and face as the sweat beaded on her upper lip. I ––, she hesitated, unable to respond to the proposition presented to her. I need time to think about this, she said barely above a whisper and strode out of the meeting hall.

2

LORYS

Lorys stood in his chambers, looking out the window and over Silvervale, the queendom that he had defended and held close his entire life. The sun was rising, a blistering orange globe bathing the sparse trees and sandy grounds of the palace. He preferred to wake up before everyone else and collect his thoughts before the scurrying of servants and the people of Silvervale began bustling along the streets. His mother would wake soon to spread her foul temper amongst the palace, something he hoped to avoid by finding a task that required his attention. She had spent the last several weeks feuding with the surrounding realms, making threats and demanding respect that she didn’t deserve. He waited, not very patiently, for an order that would send him to a border to fight against another realm, one that likely had caused no issue and would prefer to avoid conflict at any cost.

The queen Amalia had always treated Lorys with respect, but he knew his place. He served a purpose for her, just like any other member of her court. Although he was her child, he never felt like there was any special treatment or grand gestures made for him, not that he craved that sort of attention. He trained hard, earned his place, and gained the respect he now had from the Silvervale guard. He may be a prince, but he was never afforded a cushy lifestyle. The other soldiers in the guard had made life harder for him and he had the scars to prove it. His mother wouldn’t have dreamt of intervening on his behalf. What kind of character would that build? He expected nothing from her, and that had made it far easier for him to gain rank and position himself where he now stands.

Lorys was prepared to have a calm day, one that required little physical energy. The training session scheduled for the evening will be enough, especially in the heat of early summer. A knock sounded on his door, breaking his stream of thought. There were few people that would be there at this hour, he just hoped that it wasn’t his mother. Anyone else would be tolerable.

Lorys opened the door and was greeted by a messenger. She was gaunt and dressed in rags. She appeared clean, but the resources the servants had to take care of themselves were scant. He clenched his jaw at the thought of the people of Silvervale having nothing. He knew the trade with other realms had been made under duress and his mother had overseen the transactions. From the whispers amongst his trusted guards, Amalia had been taking the goods offered and giving little or nothing in return, keeping the goods or selling them at a higher price thereafter.. Her thirst for power had become so great that she was hoarding goods and money to prepare for a war. He couldn’t confirm his suspicions, but he knew that only ruling over Silvervale was no longer enough power for his mother. He had veiled his interest in Silvervale’s politics and continued his normal and often lighthearted relationship with his mother to her face, but he knew he would eventually have to step in before she burned Silvervale to the ground.

A message my prince, the young woman said bowing at him, beginning to step back before he had even taken the letter from her hands.

He would never understand why the people of Silvervale were so terrified of him. He was not his mother. Anything he did, was carried out as justice, and never hastily. He wasn’t violent by nature, not like many others like him. He worked hard to be kind, yet firm, and did nothing that would make the people think they were in danger in his presence. At least, he hoped that was how people thought of him. Based on this servant’s reaction, he wasn’t so sure.

He took the letter and smiled. Thank you.

She was gone before he even had a chance to say anything more.

He broke the seal on the letter, not recognizing the insignia. The cream paper smelled of baked bread and the message was scrawled in a hurry. His eyes scanned the page reading the scratchy note. I have something for you in the kitchens. Hurry!

He smiled at the note and the handwriting he now recognized. Ariana, his little sister, had luckily been saved from the reality of his mother’s court. She was shielded, and lived her life as a child should, under the wing of their father, King Emery. Everyone loved her and treated her like a prize jewel in Silvervale. She’d be their next leader––assuming Amalia would ever give up the throne. He hoped Ariana would stay kind and gracious, that she would keep that curious and loving nature she has had since birth. Silvervale could certainly use a reprieve from the heavy hand of their mother.

He made his way to the kitchens and did his best to avoid catching the eye of anyone that may task him with something. Whatever Ariana had for him, was likely a less than beautiful, but tasty handmade creation. She liked the kitchens, although it was not a place that Amalia really like her to be. With Amalia’s current preoccupation with violence and discontent, Ariana had plenty of unsupervised time to harass the poor cooks.

Lorys! I made bread! It has some herbs in it. I can’t tell you what they are though, it’s my secret recipe, Ariana said in greeting, handing him a flat herb-speckled piece of bread.

Lorys smiled. Secret recipe surely meant that she had picked herbs from the gardens that she probably shouldn’t have, but no one would say no to Ariana.

He took the bread and took a huge bite, hoping it tasted edible. Thank you so much, Ariana. It’s delicious, he said chewing. What are you getting up to today? Other than hovering around in the kitchens.

It wasn’t half bad. He was impressed. She was actually becoming a pretty good little cook.

Mother said I have to stay out of the way today, Ariana said, shrugging. I’ll read in the garden.

Stay out of trouble. He gave Ariana a quick hug and left the kitchens.

Lorys was certainly curious what Amalia was up to if Ariana was to stay out of the way. It couldn’t be anything good, and he was sure that he would hear about it later, but Lorys decided he would make himself scarce until training.

The heat coming from Silvervale’s courtyard tiles created a mirage, distorting the air around the guards and onlookers that had gathered to watch or take part in the training that evening. The Silvervale guard held a training every day, but only the days that the Prince took part were the days that crowds gathered to watch. Lorys wielded a training sword in the courtyard of the Silvervale palace. The sunlight glinted off the sword and off the sweat that had accumulated in his dark hair. He opened his mouth to make a smart remark to one of his sparring partners, but stopped when he read the shocked looks on their faces and they knelt, one by one, leaning on their training swords. His mother, Queen Amalia, sauntered toward them, black skirts swishing over the dirty tiles of the courtyard, a look of disgust painted on her hard but beautiful face. Whether the disgust was from the haze of dust that she was forced to walk through or how his olive complexion had become several shades darker from the layers of dirt sticking to his sweaty skin, he wasn’t sure.

To what do we owe this pleasure, mother? Lorys asked, making an exaggerated sweeping curtsy with a sword flourish added at the end. Amalia rolled her eyes at him, but a smirk formed in the corner of her mouth. He actually enjoyed ribbing his dour mother, and she tolerated it from only him occasionally. As far as she knew, he didn’t concern himself with the business of the queendom. He was to become a well-rounded young god, one who will make a good husband to a goddess in the future. She seemed happy that he knew his place and stayed there.

I’m happy to see you are enjoying yourself, but I fear you’ll not find this visit very pleasurable when our conversation is over, she retorted, tone becoming more serious. Walk with me.

A command Lorys knew and followed without hesitation.

They moved away from the courtyard and into the gardens where plumeria bloomed, the smell almost overpowering the space in the afternoon heat. The gardens were one of few beautiful spots in Silvervale and his mother hid it from most their queendom. Wildfires in recent memory had made the landscape of Silvervale dry and sparse, but the gardens with their beautiful blooms and fountains were reserved only for those the queen deemed worthy of gracing the oasis she had created.

A white raven arrived from Demeterra. One we were expecting, of course. I have replied to Queen Clea and feel as though I need to inform you of the contents of my letter, although I’m doubtful the secondary option I presented will come to fruition, Amalia said, stopping to admire and smell a flower or two. She then motioned