“What do you mean you just let her take our daughter?” the King bellowed, rising from his chair across the dining table. His salt-and-pepper hair and beard seemed to be competing now-a-days for who could grow the longest. It had been an admirably rugged look, but with any angry gesture, it only added to make him look more wild and unhinged.

I flinched which caused a deep, stabbing pain in my still healing womb. I hoped that he would not resort to anything physical as I would be unlikely to be able to fend off the worst of his attacks. The violent spells were infrequent and always later met with apologies, but I felt particularly vulnerable in my current state.

“You had the whole royal guard at your disposal!” He clenched his fist and raised it slightly.

“You do not understand,” I pleaded, “when Aunt Mari wants something, nothing and no one will stand in her way. Only fools would dare defy her.”

He had to know the stories and myths about my family. Surely he would have not been the only person in the kingdom to not shudder when my House name was uttered.

“Bah, that's all a bunch of rubbish made up to make your House look powerful,” he spat, but sat down once more. “I should have known that you would be foolish enough to fall for it yourself.”

“I assure you, I have seen and experienced enough in my childhood to tell you that many of the stories are indeed true.” The House had not exactly been what many would consider “child-friendly.”

“Enough of that talk, you will not convince me,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, “besides, I have my rightful air. I suppose this just rids me of the hassle of trying to find her a suitable marriage.” He began to eat his meal of stew again, chewing thoughtfully. “Now that I think a bit more on it, perhaps it has been a blessing. We both know that girl is too stubborn to have been easily made happy with any suitor.”

“That girl...” I began, voice cracking a bit from the boldness of what I was about to say, “happened to be the heir up until yesterday.”

The King gave a great shrug of his wide shoulders and a half-smile crept onto his face. “It is the way of things, it is no longer her right with a boy child to take a rightful place. I believe you have said so yourself.”

We ate in silence, though I more pushed food around my plate. Suddenly the rich broth and hearty vegetables tasted bland and unappealing. I had indeed said those words and at the time believed them, but now I wondered why I would have done so.

My life had been torn between two entirely different worlds, one that anyone in this kingdom would never be able to understand without my experiences. To them, life was mundane and mortal, but I knew that there was much more than the birth, toil, and death that everyone around me accepted. It astounded me that somehow I had even come to accept it.

I had been born to Evonia Yser, a powerful ruler of the House of Yser. It was not a kingdom, per se, more of a ritualistic society shut off from much everywhere else. There had been rumors that the original members of the family had made deals with demons in order to gain the land, wealth, and status; I would not be surprised to discover that the rumors were indeed true.

Evonia had been a cold woman, someone who only seemed to have children to further her power and influence. She believed that women were inherently superior and had long ago declared that anyone sharing her bloodline shall only bear female heirs. Whether it was a blessing or curse she cast upon her own blood, it became true and all further heirs were born female. Well, until now.

The children were not grown in harsh conditions with physical punishment, but rather treated with the highest respect and intense magical training to hone the senses. I don't think I would have even minded the endless hours each day memorizing magical incantations and runes had there been any love in it. It was like magic and the quest for superiority left no room for affection or familial love. Looking back, perhaps I had been the only odd one out since no one else ever seemed bothered by it.

My father had been a powerful baron from a fairly close-by kingdom, though I had never met him. I had been told that he was a very traditional, typical baron who was about as wide as he was tall. Aunt Mari often told me that she had never understood why Evonia had chosen him as a sire, she would never have touched him with a gloved hand, let alone wanted to know what he looked like undressed.

My conception was treated like a business transaction with his seed in exchange for a couple of Evonia's prized horses from the royal stables. That's what I was worth to her, a couple stallions. I had a feeling that she didn't think the trade had been a fair one.

Though I grew with the best magic tutors with the most skill and passion for their craft, my own powers seemed to languish. Try and try again, my spells never seemed to get any stronger or clearer, the outcome always vague or muddled. Magic always seemed like this wonderful sunset that everyone could reach out and experience, but my view was always obscured by thick thunder-clouds. I could sense what was possible, but barriers beyond my control hindered me from my potential.

Aunt Mari used to say that it was my father's inferior blood that had tainted my lineage and prevented me from ever becoming a powerful sorceress. I had believed that until Toria was born. In her, I saw power that I had never been able to possess. Though my blood flowed through her veins, she could see the sunset and manipulate it if she wanted to. I had tried my best to keep her from ever finding out about it.

On the eve of my eighteenth birthday, Evonia summoned me to her bed chambers. I had to avert my eyes from the several scandalously clad men and women that draped themselves around her bed. She was sitting in the middle with a look that seemed to be a laugh that was tickling her lips, her sharp, nearly black eyes assessing my every movement as I walked into the room. Even though I had been told that she was nearing her sixties, she certainly did not look much older than thirty.

“Daughter, I have been told your magic is not progressing,” she said with a lilting tone. It was not a question, nor did she want me to speak. “How can this be? How can a daughter of Evonia Yser not be a powerful sorceress?”

The men and women around her tittered and licked their lips as they snuck glances at me. It was no secret that I had become a joke for everyone in the hall.

“Well, what have you to say?” she demanded, the half-smile never faltering.

“I don't know,” I said barely above a whisper, “I study and work very hard at it, but it feels like there is something preventing me from becoming proficient.”

She cocked her head to the side slightly at me and seemed to study my face. Looking for any hint of deception. “I suppose you know that I simply cannot have a daughter who is not a sorceress.” She paused to see if I had a reaction. I did not, it wasn't like I was surprised to hear her say it. “Since your trainers feel your outcome will be dismal, you are no longer required to study magic, however, you must find a suitable marriage within the next season.”

The command for me to be married meant that I was truly no longer a welcomed member of the House Yser.

“How will I do that?” I questioned. “I have never gone beyond these walls before.”

“How would I know?” she laughed, “I have never had any interest in being a man's slave.” The men around her gave salacious glances to which she giggled and waved their implications to the contrary away. “I suppose you will have to attend some balls or something, it's not like you're ugly. As long as you are willing to comply with them, you can have any man of your choosing.”

She was correct, I certainly was not a homely young lady. I had my mother's smooth, unmarred skin, shapely features, and alluring, thick eyelashes. The only feature I possessed that had come from my father was my curly, red hair that stuck out like a sore thumb among the sea of straight, black locks of the Yser line. I had been secretly elated when Toria had been born with a thick head of dark hair.

Not wanting to find out what would happen if I did not find a man to marry within her timeline, I accepted the very first proposal. Prince Leon was the heir to the throne of a distant kingdom and though twice my age, had been kind and affectionate. It seemed no big task to go away with him and devote my life to being his queen. It certainly had to be easier than rigorous, unrelenting magic trainers constantly tutting at your under-performance.

“Rela,” the king said gruffly, “will the girl be okay?”

His question snapped me out of my walk through my memories. It had been as if the world had melted from around me and I had actually been there. Through the potential of magic, I wouldn't have been shocked if it had actually happened that way.

“She will likely not be intentionally harmed,” I replied, still trying to orient myself. “It is not necessarily a warm and welcoming place, but she looks like the rest of the family so I expect they will welcome her just fine.”

He gave a short nod and returned to his meal. I wondered if perhaps his seemingly non-nonchalance about her leaving was partially an act to seem like he should not be too alarmed. It had always seemed before that he had a soft spot for his daughter. In fact, it had been his kind nature with Toria that had inspired me to give him the male heir he so deeply desired.

I had suffered much to make the male heir happen. Sacrificing much of my strength and body to fight against the magic that predestined female heirs. It had taken much concentration and willpower starting from conception all the way up to the birth. I was certain that the birth complications had been the magic's last attempt to kill the child or punish me for daring to defy it. I had a sinking feeling like it would find a way to get revenge when I least expected it. This would certainly be the last child I ever bore out of fear of what may happen.

After dinner and nursing the young heir, I found myself hesitating outside of Toria's room. Many of her things had already been removed and were ready to be delivered to her, but I felt that as long as I did not actually open the door, that perhaps she was still inside fast asleep. I knew it was a fantasy, but I wasn't yet ready to accept that she was truly gone.

I knew what she must have thought of me. I could not deny that I was in some way a traitor to her. My choice had been made long ago and I had managed to delude myself into thinking that since Toria had been raised thus far in this world that she would understand. I had gravely underestimated the pull her ancient blood would have on her. It was always doomed to end like this, she did not belong in this kind of place.

Without breaking the fantasy that perhaps she was still safely within her room, I hobbled onward to my own room. The pain within my womb seemed to be blossoming as time passed, though with Toria's birth, I had seemed to recover quickly. I wondered if I yet had some fighting to do against the magical charm. I didn't know if I had the strength to fight anymore or if I could accept succumbing to it. If I did, perhaps I would not have to see what my daughter would inevitably become.