Year 593, on the Fifth Day of the Ninth Month

Present Day

The maid slipped each tie to Cateline's corset, knotting them tauter. With each ferocious yank, a gasp emitted from her rosy lips as her organs shifted ever so slightly to the side. It suddenly dawned on the Princess that she may have mistreated this poor maid at some point in time. It was the only reason she would plague her with this agony. Turning her head to watch an older male servant, Lawrence, she took note of his mindless struggle to balance a silver platter of biscuits out of her room.

"My sincerest apologies, Princess Cateline," the servant whispered under his breath, scurrying out once he got everything under control. Snickering, she bid him goodbye and focused her attention back to the mirror as the young maid finished her chore. Adjusting the golden corset, Cateline smoothed the red velvet skirts that flowed beneath it, the gothic sleeves draping elegantly over her arms, coming to a point at her elbow. The gilded slip of her dress had the subtlest leaf pattern to it, shimmering in the dull candlelit illumination. Her eyes landed on the maiden behind her as she picked up after her mess, clearing her throat to get the maiden's attention.

She curtsied in response, "Yes, Your Royal Highness?"

Cateline turned to look the woman in the eyes, tilting her head coyly before speaking, "What is your name again?"

"Your Royal Highness, it is Selevia Aartise, daughter of Lord John II."

Cateline nodded dramatically, hardly following the obscure number of names she was using in her introduction. Cateline was royalty, after all, she was very aware that this was how people were supposed to greet Royalty—this didn't mean she enjoyed it. Clearing her throat again, she responded, "Good. Tell me, what is it you want in life?"

The younger girl finally peered up at the Princess, her oceanic eyes blinking towards her in disbelief. There was a horde of servants running around this castle at every hour of the night, each of varying names and backgrounds, but all of them had one thing in common: they never conversed with the Royal Family. They would talk amongst one another, gossiping about the affairs of her brothers and the desires they had for their life, but they never dared to bring this type of conversation to a Princess. Cateline, being the daring vixen she was, toyed with the girl simply to ravish in the reaction. Eventually, she granted the Princess with a response.

"I would like to have a family, Princess."

"Hmm," Cateline hummed and turned away, moving to the mirror to fix her straight black hair. Her skin was snowy white in comparison, the only flush of color residing on the apples of her cheeks, "Life is more than just men, my dear. Know your power and embrace it."

Oh, how ironic that comment was, considering what was to come of the night.

───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ─────

Cateline was escorted to the ballroom of the castle, rightfully behind the King and Queen of the Axulan Kingdom. Her father's coattail trailing behind him, whopping the daughter in the wrist as they crossed a bridge that connected the two wings of the castle. Holding her hands behind her back, she pursed her lips at the obnoxious coattail and entered the ballroom after her parents.

The grand room had marble columns crawling from the floor to the tall ceilings, leading into a circular sunroof so large it let every moonlit ray into the room serenely. A thin layer of snow coated the glass, ice particles forming at the edges of the window frames. A smile crept upon her lips, the thought of ice drawing that familiar feeling from the pit of her stomach to the roses of her cheeks. She held her hands together to conceal that undeniable glow that would give her away—not many were blessed with the knowledge of her powers.

Her mother gave her a knowing look, shaking her head before returning her attention to the Esquires who stood before the queen. Once the family took their seats, the entire room of guests bowed towards them, only returning to their seats when their King allowed it. Tonight, to say the least, was not a night Cateline was looking forward to.

Men from around the world traveled near and far to come to this Winter ball, all going through the roughest of climates in order to achieve one thing: Cateline. She was one of the most desired Princesses on this side of the world, her family status was enough to send men to the brink of war for her. A portion of Cateline's soul twinkled with joy at the idea of muscular men fighting for her courtship, but the larger portion simply found it vile. None of them knew her in the slightest—they simply knew of her political power.

Her fingernails tickled the silk of the tablecloth, pinching it between her fingers in an attempt to further intensify her fleeting interest. Ever so often, her mother would flick at her leg underneath the table to resurrect her attention; little success did it have, though. The men who were introduced to her were average. None of them warriors, none of them scholars, and none of them other than ordinary looking at best. There was one man, though, that struck her interest—but all for the wrong reason.

"Prince Perciliphus II, of Abaeria."

As the Knight stepped down, and the Prince replaced him, Cateline couldn't help but lean forward at his words. It was not because of his undying intellect, though, it was quite the opposite. As he spoke, his chest heaved up and down with each bellowing declaration, a droplet of sweat dripping down his tan skin. Cateline let out a giggle, her mother snapping her on the wrist for the outcry. This rude response did nothing to stop the Prince, though, he was beautifully and inarticulately lost in his words.

"Princess, I believe if you and I complete this undying bond with marriage, our Kingdom would be the most envied in not just the continent, but I believe in the world. Your Royal Highness, you and I would such a strong pair, it would make this very Kingdom roar!"

Cateline blinked at his line, honestly confused by his advances. She was dutifully aware that this was not supposed to impress her, that this was a mere formality and the Prince with the highest status to offer would get to steal her away, but surely this Prince of Abaeria could do better than whatever sour attempt that was. Eventually, though, the introductions were done, and the most fun part of the night was to come. The dances.

───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ─────

As soon as Cateline was sent off by her father to dance with the first courter, she was disappointed. He was a round man, his odor mimicking that of rotten stew. He claimed he was from a faraway land in a country named Estera, and that the distance he traveled should be enough to convince the Royal Family of his worthiness. With each sway they took to the hum of music the Bard was playing came a toe on her own, earning a silent curse as his weight crushed the poor bones.

"The Princess is a mischievous one," the grisly man spoke with a crooked smile. Needless to say, she moved on to the next courter as quickly as possible. Most of the men resembled the first in varying ways; a few were dumb, others unhygienic, and the rest were just appalling in every way. There was a gentle part of her that wondered if the Lord had blessed her with not only magic, but a few extra months of solitude, away from a hormonal and greedy Prince.

It seemed the Lord had plans for her other than concealing her untamed magic, though, because within an instance the ground began to shake, and the walls violently screamed as they were cracked down the middle. Evidently, this night was an entirely different level of torturous than she could have ever expected.