Prologue VI
HANNE
My father’s study was a disorganized library.
The walls were painted the color of Bordeaux, and the fireplace was disproportionally large for the size of the space.
A long table sat across the room that could accommodate six men, and it was littered with maps and scrolls and books.
His desk was just as messy, so he needed more surface to house the contents of his jumbled mind.
When I walked inside, there was no fire because of the warmth of spring, and the window near his desk was cracked open.
He looked outside, seeing a hummingbird hovering near the ivy that grew all the way up the side of the castle.
The bird investigated a white flower and stuck his long beak inside to taste the nectar.
Then he zoomed off to search for a new flower.
My father seemed as mesmerized by nature as I was. “I love hummingbirds.” He spoke aloud, either because he knew I was there or because he enjoyed talking to himself.
“I do too.” I stepped farther inside in a white dress, happy that the winter had faded, for our lands and our hearts. Every season had a purpose, but it was still the season I enjoyed the least. The flowers were dull, and the trees looked like firewood ready to be chopped into logs.
He turned to look at me, his eyes lighting up in joy before his mouth caught up. “I’m surprised he flew this high up.”
I approached his desk. “If I could fly, I would touch the sky.”
He smirked and gave a quiet chuckle.
“What?”
He turned to the scroll he’d drafted and started to roll it into place. “Something your mother would have said.”
He kept her spirit alive, made me feel like I knew her, even though she’d died when I was born. I’d been alive for almost twenty years, and she’d been gone all that time, but he carried a vigil for her on his sleeve as well as in his heart.
There was a painting of her on his bedroom wall. As far as I knew, it was still there.
He slid the scroll into the tube and stood it upright on his desk so it wouldn’t roll away.
Then he gave me his full attention and glanced at the notebook in my hand, the journal I used in my studies of the garden, the different flowers and vegetation that grew there.
When he’d told me that my mother had planted most of that garden herself, it became my passion in life. “What are your new findings?”
I took a seat and flipped to the newest pages before I showed him what I’d added.
“Oleander.” I’d sketched it in color, showing the gentle pink petals.
“It’s beautiful but toxic. I noticed a few dead birds on the ground nearby.
I’m pretty sure it’s poisonous. I could test it on mice or squirrels, but I don’t have the heart. ”
“I’m glad you don’t.” He smiled at me before he looked at the pages again. “Fascinating. I think you should publish your own book.”
“Yeah, maybe I will.” I flipped through the pages and admired my collection of works.
A knock sounded on the door. “Calix, may we speak?” It was Vulgaris, general of the army—and my father’s best friend.
“Of course, come in.”
Vulgaris entered the room, an enormous man who was even more enormous in his heavy armor and with his broadsword across his back. My father had named him the steward of the castle in addition to his other responsibilities. “Princess Hanne.” He greeted me with a subtle nod.
“Hello, General Vulgaris.”
He continued to look at me, as if he expected me to leave.
“She’s fine,” my father said. “I trust her more than my own soldiers.”
Vulgaris shifted his gaze to my father, seeming indifferent to the statement. “We’ve spotted goblins on the outskirts of our valley. Reports say they’re few in numbers, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more elsewhere.”
“What were they doing?”
“Traveling, it seems.”
“Not everything is a threat, Vulgaris. Just because some people and creatures look different from us doesn’t mean they mean us harm.”
“Everyone is a threat when they encroach on our lands.”
“They’re goblins,” my father said. “They probably don’t know the difference.”
“You give their na?veté too much credit.”
“And you give their malintent too much, Vulgaris,” my father said. “Let them be unless their actions suggest a grander problem.”
Vulgaris stared like he wanted to say more, but then he gave an obedient nod. “As you wish, King Barclay.”
“We can drop the formalities,” my father said. “It’s just the two of us.”
Vulgaris glanced at me like he disagreed. Then his eyes shifted to the notebook that I’d left on the surface of the desk. His gaze lingered, taking in the image of the Oleander flower and the scribbles below.
“Let’s have a drink later.”
His eyes lifted once again, and he gave a nod. “I look forward to it.” Vulgaris left the study.
When it was just the two of us again, I took the notebook from the desk and closed it. “You aren’t worried about the goblins?”
“No.” He sat back in his high-backed chair, spring sunshine on his face.
His blue eyes were intense in color, deep like cobalt, textured like stone that possessed trace salt and other elements.
It was a solid color because the iris in the center matched it, wasn’t black like it was for others.
We had the same eyes, but even I caught myself looking at their unusual appearance when I looked at my father.
It was a sign of our status. Kings from distant lands recognized our positions just by our eyes.
Others possessed family heirlooms to prove their ancestry, but our proof was in our appearance.
“Why? You were worried about the Mammoths.”
“Because the Mammoths are vile creatures with nothing but hate in their hearts. Bred by a tyrant king long ago to fight in his army, they are made for one purpose—war. They were a threat to us all, and I feel no guilt in banishing them to the Depths.”
I’d heard tales of those foul creatures but didn’t know their appearance or their essence. I just knew their history and their fate. “How do you know goblins are different?”
“They’re much smaller. Keep to themselves. I suspect they want less to do with us than we want to do with them. I try to do good in the hope that good will come back to me in the end.”
“I’m sure it will, Father.”
He left his desk and crossed the room, looking through the stack of books that were there.
Piles that were disorganized, all different sizes, some with loose bindings with the pages coming out.
He found the book he wanted then walked back to the desk before he set it down and flipped through the pages.
I didn’t know what he sought, so I waited patiently.
He licked his fingers a couple times before he found it. He turned the book toward me, showing me a picture of a creature with leathery skin the color of rust, with bat wing ears, hunched down rather than standing upright like a person. “This is a goblin. Reminds me more of a rat.”
I stared at the sketch, seeing the large black eyes that looked like pools of emptiness.
He turned the book back to him. “They’re small.
Four feet tall. We don’t know much about them other than the fact that they avoid others at all costs.
Where their kingdom lies, how their hierarchy works, and what they desire is an absolute mystery.
” He licked his finger and turned through more pages.
My father liked to show me things, liked to support his thoughts with more information.
He wanted me to know everything in preparation for the day I became queen when he passed.
He seemed to enjoy teaching me things, how to wield a blade, how to read scrolls sent from our allies, how to find what I needed in the library.
No matter how busy he was, he never seemed to mind taking the time to satisfy my curiosities.
“This is a Mammoth.” He turned the book back to face me, showing me the sketch an artist had created, a tall creature with black hide and long dark hair.
Its face looked like an angry mouse, but a lot more terrifying.
And they had curved horns that protruded from their mouths, thick bone-like apparatuses that reached all the way to their chins.
I looked at the writing beneath it, which shared that they were over seven feet tall with a mass and density several times more potent than a human’s.
Their bones were thicker too, making them nearly indestructible.
Despite having no king, they continued to fulfill the orders of their sire and destroy the kingdom of men.
I felt a shiver trickle down my spine, and I swallowed.
My father knew I’d had enough and turned the book back toward himself. “Good riddance.”
I nodded in agreement.
“They’ve killed a lot of good men. I was relieved that Vulgaris survived that battle with only a few minor injuries.”
“When were they banished?”
“Thirty years ago. Ten years before you were born.” He closed the book, like that would shut out the horrors that brewed in my mind. “But they’re gone now. You won’t have to worry about them in your reign.”
“I wonder what the Depths are like…”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “You’ll wonder all your life because we’ll never know.
We’ve tried to study it, but when we dropped an entire bonfire below to watch the flames, it grew smaller and smaller, just a dot—and then it disappeared.
A fire the size of a pyre—just gone. I doubt any of the Mammoths survived when they fell. ”
I nodded in agreement.
“But enough talk of monsters. Let’s have dinner and watch the sunset.”
I smiled because that immediately lifted my spirits. “That sounds like a lot more fun.”