Castielle the Fair

By Maggy Gould

When she was a baby, her mother tried to murder her.

While she was growing up, her father defied a magic wish just to see her.

Now an adult, Princess Castielle has spent most of her life in safe and luxurious exile. A life that is turned upside down when she discovers magic has been slowly killing her beloved father - and time is running out for him.

With her faithful bodyguard Belltain in tow, Castielle sets out on a quest to save him. A quest where she meets dragons, faeries, wytches and djenns. A quest where she discovers the fairy tales she was told as a child are actually real - and far more sinister than any fiction. A quest which leads her back to the last place she wants to be, and the last person she wants to confront...

Castielle the Fair is a fantasy novel set in the land of Ghard-en-Yarr.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maggy Gould
• Release date: Aug 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223322399

Maggy Gould

Maggy Gould is a fantasy/sci-fi author who enjoys world-building. She creates stories in mystical realms and far-off planets, with diverse characters (some human, some not). An avid reader herself, she is particularly inspired by fairy tales and sci-fi epics. She lives with her family in Cheshire.

Book preview

Prologue

Once upon a time, in a palace in the clouds, there lived a beautiful queen.

Queen Narsiss ruled the realm of High-Vynn, in the land of Ghard-en-Yarr. A realm which was a huge island floating in the sky. A realm where rubies, emeralds and sapphires grew on trees.

Queen Narsiss was famed for her beauty, with her long straight hair as black as a raven’s feather, emerald green eyes, and skin as white and smooth as the finest china made by the potters of Level-Don.

But despite her wealth and beauty, the queen was lonely in her palace in the clouds. Of course, she was surrounded by servants, guards and the workers who maintained her gem forests, but that didn’t count, not really. What she was after was a mate, someone to love her, care for her, be with her, completely and forever.

Many suitors had come to beg for her hand in marriage, but she had refused them all. As she was rather a fussy sort, there was always something that wasn’t quite right with the men who came to her door. Too short, too tall, too rich, too poor, too handsome, too ugly, too clever, too stupid...

Will I ever find a husband? she lamented one day, having just sent away the latest candidate, a handsome blond prince from High-Pless who had a voice like an eight-year-old girl.

And she sat on the steps of her palace, pulled her white silken cloak round her, put her face in her hands, and sobbed.

Excuse me, I wonder if you could help me.

Narsiss raised her head at the sound of the voice. A man wearing a dusty hat and an even dustier long coat was walking through the palace gates.

I’m from the Kremp Winery in Level-Fel. Who would I need to speak to about becoming a supplier to High-Vynn? He stopped directly in front of her. Are you alright?

Narsiss looked up into a young, tanned face with a strong jaw, full lips, and the bluest eyes she had ever seen, and it was love at first sight.

I am now.

Narsiss and Torrez, a wealthy lord and businessman from the district of Turk-a-Tull in the realm of Level-Fel, were married soon after. The wedding was a joyous affair, and all in High-Vynn congratulated their queen and welcomed their new king.

Time passed, and all was well in the realm of High-Vynn. With Torrez now in charge of the gem forests, production was better than it had been for some time. His confident yet fair and easy-going nature meant he quickly earned the respect and devotion of everyone who worked for him. Traders looked forward to doing business with him, for they knew he was far more honest and sensible than the other High-Level kings. But most important of all, he made Narsiss happy.

It was Narsiss and Torrez’s second wedding anniversary. During the celebrations, a djenn, a magical being who granted wishes, arrived at the palace. In return for their hospitality, and because it was their anniversary, the djenn granted them each a wish.

I wish that Torrez stays with me forever, said Narsiss.

And so it is, said the djenn, with a nod of his head.

I wish for a daughter who looks exactly like her mother, said Torrez.

And so it is, said the djenn, with a nod of his head.

After the djenn had departed, Narsiss turned on her husband.

Why did you ask for a daughter? she spat, her lovely face now ugly with rage. Aren’t we happy enough on our own?

Torrez, who had never seen his wife like this, was shocked.

It was only a bit of fun, he said. It’s not as if it’ll come true anyway. Wishes are nonsense.

Narsiss frowned and snorted angrily.

Why are you so cross? asked Torrez, perplexed. Wouldn’t it be nice if we had children together?

Narsiss snorted again, but said nothing more.

A month later, Narsiss discovered she was pregnant.

Torrez was delighted. Narsiss was not. She had never wanted children, those screeching brats who ruined your figure and your sleep. Despite the fact she was expected to produce an heir, Narsiss wasn’t interested in becoming a mother.

As the pregnancy progressed, Torrez saw a different side to his wife. But he put the constant moaning, sulking and snapping down to hormones.

The birth was an easy one. Torrez named his daughter Castielle. She had hair as black as a raven’s feather, emerald green eyes, and skin as white and smooth as the finest china made by the potters of Level-Don. She looked exactly like her mother. Torrez fell in love with her instantly.

Narsiss, however, was completely disinterested. That disinterest turned to jealousy when she realised her servants were tending to the baby as they had once tended to her, people were talking about the baby’s beauty as they had once talked about hers, and visitors were coming to see this wretched baby as they had once come to see her. Most of all, though, she was jealous of the love and attention Torrez gave the child, whereas once he had given all his love and attention only to her.

By the time Castielle had turned one, that jealousy had turned to hate.

Everything about the brat made Narsiss want to vomit. The way she laughed, the way she moved, those stupid noises she made all the time, those horrible smells, and most of all, the way she looked exactly like her.

Despite her mother’s hostility, Castielle was a happy little girl. She could light up an entire room with a single smile. And when she crawled into someone’s field of vision, they stopped what they were doing just to watch her.

Meanwhile, Torrez was becoming increasingly worried about his wife’s behaviour. Whenever they were all together, Narsiss would completely ignore their daughter. But when he left Castielle alone with Narsiss for just a moment, he would return to find the little girl screaming in distress and, on one occasion, a red mark on her little arm. Narsiss always denied harming the child, of course, and always screeched at Torrez for daring to suggest it.

One day, two months before Castielle’s second birthday, Torrez left Castielle in her playroom with her nanny Sella, a small, middle-aged woman who was one of Torrez’s most trusted servants.

I have to go and check on the ruby harvest, said Torrez. I shouldn’t be too long. Don’t leave Cas alone with her mother.

Torrez was gone less than an hour. When he returned to the playroom, Sella was lying on the floor, unconscious, with a bleeding head wound, and Castielle was nowhere to be seen.

Torrez summoned the palace guard to search for the missing princess, although he knew who had taken her. And it was in fact he who found her, in one of the informal sitting rooms.

Little Castielle was lying on a sofa, her cries barely audible, while her mother leant over her and pressed a large purple cushion into her face.

With a horrified roar, Torrez wrenched the queen off the child and flung her the length of the room. He snatched up Castielle, ready to administer the kiss of life, but one hearty wail told him she was alright. While he held her and soothed her, he quickly examined her body for signs of damage. But apart from a few bits of fluff in her mouth, she was fine.

At the other end of the room, Narsiss sat up and burst into tears.

I don’t want her, I never wanted her. I only want you, Torrez, she wailed. Why can’t it be just me and you? Why does that brat have to spoil everything? Why can’t she just die!

Torrez stared at his wife’s twisted, tear-streaked face and realised something for the first time. His wife, his beautiful queen, whom he had loved from the moment he had first seen her, was in fact a selfish, self-centred, psychotic bitch who was only happy when she had her own way and didn’t know the meaning of genuine love.

He left her then. He had nothing more to say to her.

Torrez packed a few possessions, some clothes, and a couple of Castielle’s favourite toys. Then, together with Castielle and Sella, now sporting a large bandage on her head, he climbed aboard his personal jet. He was returning to his home realm of Level-Fel, where he still had family. They would start a new life there; maybe he could buy back the winery business he had sold just after marrying Narsiss. They would never come here again. Torrez was leaving his queen and her palace in the clouds.

But as he fired up the engines, Torrez noticed a pain in his head. As the jet lifted off, the pain intensified and spread to his entire body. He clutched his chest, gasping for breath.

Sella, who was sitting with Castielle behind him, shrieked with alarm and immediately leapt into the passenger seat. She managed to reach the controls enough to set the jet back down, albeit rather bumpily.

As soon as they were back on the ground, the pain left Torrez’s body and he started breathing normally again.

What happened, Majesty? cried Sella, her whole body shaking. Shall I fetch the physician?

Torrez closed his eyes and let out an anguished sigh. He knew exactly what had happened, although he hadn’t even thought of it until now.

I wish that Torrez stays with me forever.

Narsiss’ wish had come true.

How the wish worked or why it worked in such a way, Torrez didn’t know. What he did know now was that if he tried to leave Narsiss, he would die. Then who would protect Castielle from Narsiss’ hate? Who would stop Narsiss from getting her hands on Castielle again? He needed to make sure Castielle was safe... and far away.

With tears in his eyes, he kissed his beloved daughter goodbye.

We will be together again, Cas, I promise.

Then he murmured some orders to a distraught Sella, gave her directions to his cousin’s estate, and left the jet.

As he watched the jet lift off, turn right, then head down to the Level realms of Ghard-en-Yarr, he thought he could actually feel his heart breaking.

Eventually, Torrez made his way back to the palace. Narsiss was waiting for him at the top of the steps by the front entrance. She appeared to have cheered up considerably.

My wish worked then.

Torrez, using language he had never used before, told Narsiss exactly what he thought of her. He threatened to twist her head off her shoulders if she tried going after Castielle and harming her again.

Who cares about that brat, said Narsiss, with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. She’s gone. It’s just you and me now, like it always was, like it always will be.

Torrez swore viciously. Then he followed his hideous queen into her palace in the clouds. And they lived unhappily ever after...

Chapter 1

Castielle looked up at High-Vynn, her birth realm, with a mixture of anger, loathing and fear.

From afar, and especially if, like her, you were looking from below, the realm looked beautiful. A large island high up in the sky, suspended three miles above a calm turquoise sea, supported by who knew what magic, its base surrounded by fluffy, pure white clouds. Gently rolling hills with vivid green grass, forests with tall trees with different coloured leaves, a broad river flowing down a small hill that, from this distance, looked like a sheet of silver.

And then there was the palace. A vast structure of glass and white stone, with spires and turrets, windows and gates, balconies and verandas, that dominated its surroundings. Which was kind of the point, Castielle knew. It was a palace that said ‘the monarch who lives here is richer and more important than the rest of you and therefore demands and deserves your respect and admiration’. The palaces in the other four High-Level realms were similarly ostentatious. All the High-Level monarchs liked to show off their incredible wealth.

But despite its appearance of abundance and success, High-Vynn now had a different kind of reputation. There were rumours throughout the land of Ghard-en-Yarr that Queen Narsiss was becoming more insane by the day. People whose families had lived and worked on High-Vynn for generations had left, unable to cope with the monarch’s vicious mood swings and crazy demands. Fewer and fewer people were left to take care of the palace and gardens and, more importantly, the gem forests and their crops of rubies, emeralds and sapphires. It was no secret that the quality and quantity of High-Vynn gems weren’t what they should be. A lot of gem traders now refused point-blank to do business with High-Vynn, viewing it as a waste of time. Mutterings abounded that something had to be done. Mutterings hinting that the exiled princess Castielle should take over the throne from her mother.

There was a law in the land of Ghard-en-Yarr that the only child of a reigning monarch could challenge for the throne once they reached the age of twenty-one, if said monarch was misruling their realm. The only child had to petition all the other monarchs and provide evidence of said monarch’s misrule. The other monarchs would then judge yea or nay.

Castielle was twenty. In three months, she would be twenty-one. She could then challenge for her mother’s throne if she wanted to. She didn’t want to.

Castielle heard a thud behind her. She looked round to see Belltain picking himself up off the ground in front of their jet, a two-person vehicle that hovered a few centimetres above the ground.

How many times have I told you not to sit on the bumper? she admonished her rotund bodyguard. It’s not big enough for your massive bulk.

I’ll have you know my curves have been admired for more years than you’ve been alive, Belltain retorted.

Castielle rolled her eyes. No accounting for taste, eh, Bella. Anyway, find somewhere to sit where you won’t leave a dent.

Belltain tutted, then took himself off to the right side of the jet. He found a tiny hillock covered in soft grass just big enough to accommodate his large behind. He wouldn’t go further, not until he was sure Castielle was in no danger. He would watch over her, as he had done for the last nineteen years.

Belltain’s looks were deceptive. He was short, round and completely bald. Although he was fifty years old, he looked at least fifteen years younger, with smooth, delicate skin that seemed permanently hairless. He preferred the company of beautiful men, had had several much younger lovers over the years, and camped it up gloriously at any opportunity. He also knew a hundred ways to kill a person, not all of them quick and painless.

Castielle suppressed a smile as she watched Belltain wriggling on the hillock to make himself comfortable. Then she turned back to look up again at High-Vynn, and waited for her father.

Castielle had seen Torrez many times over the years since her hasty exit from High-Vynn. The first had been on her third birthday, when Torrez made a surprise visit to her new home. After an hour, he started wheezing and his head began to throb, so he had to leave.

He managed to sneak away from Narsiss to see his daughter three or four times a year after that, always on the pretext of doing business. After making a brief test flight one day, he discovered that if he made it clear he was returning to Narsiss and was only going temporarily, the magic that worked her wish allowed him to leave High-Vynn for a short while. But this magic was a strange and strict thing. If he stayed away for too long, he started feeling ill.

Despite the short, infrequent visits from her father, Castielle had a happy childhood. Torrez’s cousin Voradin and his wife Manyella had given little Castielle sanctuary as soon as she arrived. Voradin was duke of the Edden-brijj district on Level-Fel and therefore more than equipped to provide security for the little princess. Voradin and Manyella had given Castielle a happy and stable home, a highly privileged life, and three ‘brothers’ she loved dearly. After listening to Sella’s report on Narsiss’ behaviour, they had also given Castielle her own bodyguard, the camp but lethal Belltain.

Torrez thought he had managed to fox the magic with his timed visits to Castielle. But something was not right. Gradually, his visits had to be shorter as he became ill quicker. It got so bad that five years ago, Castielle, accompanied by Belltain, had to meet him halfway in order to prolong their time together. Since then, every year Castielle had to travel further from her home and closer to High-Vynn in order to spend any time with Torrez.

However, not only was Torrez becoming ill quicker, he was staying ill. He couldn’t remember the last time he had recovered completely after one of their visits. Was the magic retaliating against his efforts to trick it?

Now Castielle stood on the coastal cliffs of Level-Don, the closest she dared get to High-Vynn. She had stood on this exact spot eight months ago, the last time she had seen her father.

She felt something vibrating in her coat pocket. She reached in and pulled out her ffon. She pushed a button on the side of the small square device and the lid flipped open to reveal a tiny screen.

Torrez’s face filled the screen. Hey, Cas.

Castielle felt her heart lurch. The small screen couldn’t hide the fact that her father looked gravely ill. Hey, Dad.

I’m just setting off now. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.

Fly high, Dad. It was an old Level-Fel expression Torrez had taught her when she was small. It meant ‘leave your troubles far behind’. Now it was their favourite way of saying goodbye to each other.

Fly high, Cas.

Castielle flipped the ffon shut and put it back in her pocket. She was grateful for this small black gadget that was the only way she could communicate with Torrez between visits.

She looked up at High-Vynn again, straining her eyes to catch a first glimpse of Torrez’s jet. As sunlight glinted off one of the palace’s glass spires, Castielle caught sight of a purple flag at its peak. Nausea washed over her and she looked away quickly. Her mother’s attempt to murder her with a purple cushion had left her with an intense phobia of the colour purple. Her adoptive family had always been careful to avoid having the colour in their home, but she couldn’t always avoid it when out and about. Just the sight of a stranger’s purple hat would leave her shaking and dizzy and on the verge of hysteria.

How appropriate then that the colour she hated and feared was decorating the palace of the woman she hated and feared.

Castielle’s brief time with Narsiss had left a lasting effect on her that, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t shake off. Whenever she thought of her mother, she was hit by that unholy trinity of emotions – anger, loathing and fear. Fear of the woman who had once tried to kill her and might yet try again if the mood struck her. Loathing towards the woman who had behaved as though Castielle were a rival, an enemy even, rather than a daughter to be loved and cherished. But the biggest emotion was anger. Anger at the woman who had rejected Castielle at birth and had trapped Torrez in a miserable existence, in effect robbing Castielle of two parents.

Fucking bitch, she muttered.

Potty mouth! Belltain called behind her.

Castielle ignored him. She took several deep breaths and visualised the negative emotions leaving her. She wanted to enjoy her time with her father, not have it ruined by thoughts of her mother.

A dark dot appeared in the sky, moving away from High-Vynn, and Castielle’s mood lifted. The dot grew larger, closer, until it was discernible as a jet. A bigger, less stylish version of her own jet, Torrez’s vehicle could carry six people and had a roomy cargo hold at the rear.

Castielle often teased Torrez about his choice of vehicle, labelling it an ‘old man’s craft’.

Give it ten years, you’ll want one too, was Torrez’s standard response.

As the jet came into land in front of Castielle’s craft, it caused only the slightest disturbance of the grass below it. Its engines, already quiet, went silent completely.

On his hillock, Belltain calmly reached for the laser pistol strapped to his belt.

Now the large jet had settled into a steady hover just above the ground, Castielle walked over and pulled open the pilot’s door.

Hey, Dad. The words caught in her throat when she saw her father.

Torrez sat slumped in his seat, his breathing loud and laboured.

Dad? Alarmed, Castielle reached inside the craft.

Belltain was by her side in a flash. Together, they helped Torrez out of his jet.

It’s OK... I’m OK, Torrez managed before coughing violently.

Dad! What’s wrong? Castielle cried. Shall I get a doctor?

Between coughs, Torrez shook his head. Stop... soon...

The coughing did stop soon and Torrez pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his mouth. The cloth was black, and when it came away from his mouth wet, Castielle hoped that was saliva not blood. One look at Belltain’s grim face told her he was thinking the same thing.

Sorry about that. Torrez tried a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Castielle looked into her father’s face and felt like crying. He looked terrible, much worse than he ever had. His once handsome face had a grey pallor, his once lustrous hair was more white than dark brown, and his once striking blue eyes had completely lost their sparkle. For a man who was several years younger than his cousin Voradin, he now looked twenty years older.

Aware of his daughter’s distress, Torrez pulled her into a tight hug so she wouldn’t have to look at his face any more.

Belltain discreetly gave Torrez’s jet the once-over, checking for any unwelcome stowaways, before moving off to give Castielle and Torrez some private time together.

Castielle gently pulled away from her father’s embrace.

Dad, I love you but you look like crap, she said softly. What’s happening?

You’ve never been one to mince words, have you? He smiled sadly, then sighed. Honestly, Cas, I don’t know.

Castielle chewed her lip. You’re ill, Dad, and you’re not getting better. Every time I see you, you’re worse.

I know.

Have you seen your doctor?

Yes. Torrez appeared unwilling to say more.

And? Castielle prompted.

He can’t help.

What d’you mean, he can’t help? said Castielle, exasperated. I’ll find you a new doctor then!

Cas. He stroked her arm. Doctors can’t help.

Castielle stared at him intently. It took a while to catch his meaning.

Have you used magic? she asked.

Torrez looked away. He shuffled a few steps back to his jet and leaned heavily against it.

Dad?

Torrez seemed to steel himself for what he was about to say.

Ever since that time we tried to leave High-Vynn together, when you were little, I’ve known that Narsiss’ wish would stop me leaving her. If I tried, it would kill me, I don’t know how or why that is. But I thought I’d got around it by pretending I wasn’t leaving whenever I came to see you. I even made a point of telling Narsiss directly that I’d be back soon just before I set off. It’s probably the only time I get to have something approaching a conversation with her now. He chuckled, then began coughing again.

Castielle started to say something, but Torrez held his hand up. With an effort, he controlled the coughing and wiped his mouth again.

After our last visit... You remember our last visit, Cas?

Castielle nodded. How could she forget? They had met at this exact spot eight months ago and had spent only thirty minutes together before Torrez’s health deteriorated so much he had to leave.

After our last visit, I had to be honest with myself. The wish was still killing me whenever I left High-Vynn, only doing it more slowly and bit by bit. Don’t ask me how or why, because I still don’t know. Conventional medicine is no match for magic and, believe me, I have tried everything my physician’s prescribed for me.

Castielle gave Torrez a sharp look. Why didn’t you say something sooner?

Torrez shook his head. I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I mean, what choice do I have really? Never see you again so I can stay healthy? I might as well be dead.

Dad!

Sorry, Cas, but it’s true. Never seeing you again is not an option. So I came up with a plan. I sent one of my servants to Level-Bas to try and find the djenn who granted Narsiss’ wish. See if there was any way of reversing it or taking it back. At least if I stopped getting any worse whenever I saw you, that would be something. Torrez paused, and looked stricken. I never heard from my servant again.

Castielle frowned. She wasn’t entirely surprised. Level-Bas was the realm of magical creatures and monsters. You didn’t go there unless you had a very good reason, or you were deranged. Castielle guessed the servant had simply been too scared to fulfil his task and had run away, or had been gobbled up by one of the many creatures with a particular liking for human flesh.

I daren’t send anyone else, said Torrez in a choked voice. It wouldn’t be fair.

This time Castielle pulled her father into a tight hug.

We’ll think of something, Dad, I promise, she murmured against his chest.

Castielle felt Torrez sag against her, heard his breath start to catch.

No, no! It’s too soon! she cried, trying her best to hold him up. He had been with her for barely ten minutes.

Have... to go... now, Torrez whispered, his body swaying.

Oh, Dad, you’ve only just got here. Castielle started to cry. This is so unfair!

See you... soon. Torrez fell into his jet.

Castielle wiped her tears away angrily. She reached in and pressed the button for the automatic homing device, which meant the jet would head straight back to High-Vynn without Torrez having to fly it himself.

She kissed her father’s cheek. I’ll think of something, Dad, I promise I will.

I know. He sounded as if he had lost all hope. Fly high, Cas.

Fly high, Dad.

Castielle almost couldn’t bear to watch as the door of the jet swung shut, the engines fired up and the vehicle lifted up and sped off.

Angry tears resumed their course down her cheeks as she watched her father fly away from her and back to High-Vynn. Back to Narsiss.

She felt Belltain’s presence beside her.

Almost unable to speak, she whispered, He’s dying, Bella.

I know, Cas, said Belltain quietly.

Fucking bitch.

There was no admonishment from Belltain this time. He simply reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Chapter 2

As soon as Torrez’s jet caught the thermals around High-Vynn, he started to feel better. Not much, but a little. Enough to be able to fly the jet himself again and bring it in to land.

I’m back now, he said, as if that would make any difference.

Leaving his jet in its usual spot in the jet-port behind the palace, he shuffled along a walkway and went into the palace.

Narsiss was waiting for him inside. She was dressed in all her finery. A full-length deep red velvet robe, pinched in at the waist with a gold belt studded with diamonds. A small tiara of rubies on her head. Huge ruby earrings hanging from her ears. But all the finery couldn’t detract from the sour look on her face.

Enjoy your business trip? she said.

Torrez brushed past her without responding. He really didn’t have the energy for a confrontation. He needed to lie down and rest.

You don’t look so good, Torrez, Narsiss called after him. I think these business trips are taking their toll.

For a split second, Torrez thought he caught a hidden meaning in her words. But he knew she was goading him simply for the hell of it. She couldn’t possibly know where he went.

Somehow he found the energy to increase his speed, and soon he was in his private suite. He locked the door behind him, made it into the lounge, then fell onto the nearest couch and was instantly asleep.

On the other side of the palace, Narsiss was back in her private suite, pacing around agitatedly. She was spoiling for a fight. Since she had failed to get a rise out of Torrez, she needed to find another target.

A maid, a young girl called Ista, was arranging a bunch of flowers in a blue ceramic vase on a tiny round table in Narsiss’ bedroom. Being a naturally happy girl and also new in the job, Ista failed to pick up on the queen’s mood, otherwise she would have dumped the flowers and left immediately. As it was, Ista took her time arranging the multi-coloured blooms, humming contentedly to herself. Narsiss spotted her target and moved in for the kill.

Did I ask for flowers? she shouted.

Ista jumped, nearly knocking over the vase.

Yes... yes, Majesty, she stammered. You asked...

Don’t answer me back, you insolent creature! Narsiss yelled in her face. Who do you think you are, you ugly, fat, disgusting little wretch!

Ista, who was pretty and slim and not in any way disgusting, was terrified. Never before in her young life had she heard such a voice screaming at her for no reason. Never before had she seen such a face filled with rage and madness. Unable to speak, her knees buckled beneath her.

Narsiss reached around Ista, grabbed the flowers from their vase, then hurled them at the maid. A large yellow petal struck Ista’s left eye, and she cried out in pain.

Take those and get out! Narsiss shrieked. Eat them, choke on them, I don’t care! Just get out!

Scared out of her wits, Ista fled, leaving a trail of broken leaves and petals behind her.

Narsiss smiled to herself. That’s better. She sighed contentedly. Now, where did I put... ah, there you are.

She spotted what she was looking for, a small mirror with a jewel-encrusted silver handle, on the windowsill. She took the mirror with her as she left the bedroom, striding into the lounge, her long robe swirling around her. The doors to her balcony were already open, so she stepped out into the bright sunlight.

Using one hand to shield her eyes, she surveyed the palace gardens below her. The flat rectangular lawns, circular beds of brightly-coloured flowers, dark green shrubs cut into animal shapes, ponds that contained gold and silver fish, a large fountain in the shape of a pyramid, and a stone path that zigzagged through it all should you wish to stroll there and examine these wonders close up. Beyond were the gem forests. Tall trees on which grew rubies, emeralds and sapphires, the source of her vast wealth.

The view from this balcony was the best in High-Vynn. A view she used to share with Torrez. She remembered how they used to have breakfast on this balcony, Torrez feeding her fruit and pastries before taking her back to bed to make love to her. She remembered how they used to sit here on sunny afternoons, Torrez massaging her toes and heels while