The Dove of Calassi

The very first chapter in which I introduce most of my main characters - Cypress, Tam, Ellyra, Eliza and Zayric. If I wrote it right, hopefully readers already find Rosaline as revolting as I do.

 

“There’s no getting around it, sire. You’re just going to have to let him do this on his own.”

            “We know that, Cadagi. But that doesn’t mean that we like it. These humans have become so much more faithless over the years. And so hostile…we won’t let our son go into that territory alone.”

            “But of course. Remember, though, that his return will be a glorious triumph. Perhaps the assignment will bring great good to the kingdom.”

            “We admire your confidence. Forgive us if we don’t share it. We have lost too many of our best diplomats on these silly little quests for it to be worth it. Losing one is too many, but our son…”

            “But if he didn’t go, think of the disappointment it would bring to the kingdom. If he truly wants to call himself a Keeper of the Right he must—”

“Times are different now! The title Keeper is barely more than a status symbol anymore, and what greater status does he need when he is already royalty? That damn Chancellor Larch got these ideas into his head as a little child and now he won’t let go of them. It’s foolish.”

“Foolish or not, he won’t be dissuaded. You must admit, his idealism is admirable.”

“Admirable in the sense that he’s willing to throw himself into mortal danger for the sake of a race that has never been kind to us, especially now.”

 “I believe that he’s strong enough to handle it, sire. Of course there’s some risk, but the good could outweigh the bad in this scenario.”

            “’Could.’ And time is not on our side, either. If the enchantment isn’t broken by next year the humans may declare war.”

            “With all due respect, sire, there are many in the kingdom who believe it is we who should challenge them.”

            “We are aware of that, but they are a fragile race, and an unpredictable one. Don’t underestimate them, Cadagi. Blood would be spilt on both sides even if our side instigated the battle. Their hatred is strong… who knows what could happen to the Queen if we attack prematurely?”

            “Ah… sire… there are some in the kingdom who believe that your majesty’s feelings for the Queen are hindering the progress of this war.”

            “She is the most powerful fairy in the kingdom! Do you honestly think it would be a better tactical maneuver to put her life in jeopardy than to keep her safe?”

            “No, sire, but the people are becoming… restless. It’s been nearly two years since Queen Alarken was captured and—”

            “Not now, Cadagi. We don’t want to hear about it now. You came to discuss our son and his request to become a Keeper, which we still don’t agree with.”

            “I know, sire. Should I inform him that his request has been denied? I can see your unwillingness to do it… he’s the only heir after all and with the risks…”

            “No. We said that we didn’t agree with his choice, not that we wouldn’t let him make it. If he honestly thinks that he can help resolve the split between our race and the humans’ this way, then so be it. But he’ll need some assistance.”

            “Sire?”

            “We want another fairy to change and accompany him. He shouldn’t have to make this journey alone, especially not with all the turmoil in the human kingdom. Perhaps Tamarisk… he is planning on leaving for a similar journey. Speak to the Council at once; tell them that it is urgent that Tamarisk’s mission is change to follow suit with our son’s. Let them never be apart.”

            “I believe that goes against the rules of the ritual, Sire.”

            “Well then we are creating new rules. It is the only way we will allow him to take such a dangerous risk; he may take it or leave it.”

            “Yes sire. I’ll inform the Council immediately. Prince Cypress and Tamarisk shall leave within the week.”

 

*

 

            Cypress stood before the intricate cedar doorway into his father’s throne room, studying the grain of the wood to keep his mind off the decision that was being made within the sanctum.

            “Has your father reached a decision yet?” asked a voice from behind him.

            Cypress turned, his wings fluttering nervously. “Chancellor Larch!” he exclaimed, bowing slightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge you before.”

            The white haired fairy chuckled. “Do not bow to me, dear prince. My position doesn’t hold a candle to that of royalty.”

            “I thought I should start practicing.” Cypress intoned quietly. “If Father decides to allow my passage to Calassi, I’m going to have to get used to showing respect to human royalty. All humans, for that matter.”

            “A wise decision.” Chancellor Larch agreed, nodding. “Respect, justice, and truth will lead to a world of good. It’s all part of the philosophy of the Keepers of the Right.”

            “And such a good philosophy it is. I’d die defending it.”

            “Would you? That’s what this test is designed to prove. Words are easy, it’s the actions that would put you in harm’s way that prove the words and extend their meaning.”

            “Well said, Chancellor. But I’m not yet sure what my father has decided. He and Cadagi have been talking for a long while. I told him I’d ask Father myself, but he insisted that he talk to him instead.”

            “That’s understandable,” Larch cut in smoothly. “It’s only right that a fellow Keeper should speak on another’s behalf.”

            The prince ran gently trembling fingers through his short, dusty brown hair, beating his wings furiously to relieve some of their sudden tension. “Unless my father decides not to let me go.” Cypress said gloomily, meeting the Chancellor’s coal black eyes for the first time that morning.

            “Your father the king is a reasonable man.” Chancellor Larch said slowly. “Realistically this experience can only better the relations between our kingdom and Calassi, and even if it doesn’t you will have gained greater knowledge of the human kingdom and thus be better suited to eventually rule your own. You will experience the mundane trials that humans go through every day and perhaps you won’t have to rely on foolish, dimwitted diplomats the way your father had to before the war broke out.”

            “The war… I’m sure that’s what’s keeping him from making his decision.”

            “Taking your journey during the war will only increase your knowledge of the war itself, and the reasons behind it. You’ll be able to view it from the humans’ perspective and separate fact from fiction, although that may be part of why his majesty is being so hesitant to let you go…”

             For an instant the prince’s dark eyes seemed to deepen and the fluttering of his wings came to a sudden halt. “Are you suggesting that my father would deprive me of a year among the humans he doesn’t want me to sympathize with them? Dare you to suggest that my loyalty is in question?”

            “Not at all, my dear prince.” Chancellor Larch responded lightly, though Cypress detected a hint of irony in his voice. “I’m merely pointing out that your father, like any parent who loves his child, is loath to consciously allow you to enter a dangerous situation, especially without your wings.”

            At these words, Cypress instinctively reached out to touch the silvery, muscular tissue curving from his back. “They’re so strong.” He breathed, sobered. He looked up at his father’s trusted advisor and asked, with no small amount of awe in his voice, “how does the Council remove them for all that time?”

            “Powerful magic and ingenuity.” Chancellor Larch replied gravely. “It’s been a practice that has gone on for hundreds of years, for as long as the Keepers have existed. If the former Keepers of old were able to do it, so can the modern day ones.”

            Cypress shivered. It was common knowledge among fairies that the final test to grant a normal fairy with the title of Keeper of the Right required the sacrifice of his wings for one earthly year. It meant that the natural healing powers, augmented strength and virtual immunity from diseases with which his wings provided him would be gone. The young prince had known this from the beginning, of course, but the foreknowledge made him no less worried about his own survival. 

            “But what of the Sickness?” Cypress asked. “It still occurs today, doesn’t it?”

            “The Sickness will never be avoided no matter what time period you happened to have been born. As a young fairy, one’s body has always been accustomed to having one’s wings help one fight off disease and heal wounds. When one suddenly finds oneself without that first line of defense, it’s only natural that an aspiring Keeper should suffer a little cold.”

            “But hasn’t it killed people in the past?”

            “Yes… but at that point it was the human’s medicine that could not restore the fairy to full health. In rare cases the aspiring Keeper had to be taken back to____ for healing, but if they choose that route they lose their chance at fully becoming a Keeper. Fear is a fairy’s worst enemy when he lives on earth, for it is fear that make him overreact to situations he would ordinarily be able to handle. Don’t fall into that trap yourself, young prince. It will only cause you trouble in the end.”  

            Cypress sighed wearily and paced across the smooth white floor, his golden slipper clad feet sinking gently into it with every step and bouncing back again when the space was unoccupied. His wings resumed their nervous beat, stirring an unnatural breeze around him as he walked. “I’ll do my best,” he said resignedly. “Provided my father allows me to go at all. He must be paranoid about everything, the Sickness and the vulnerability especially.”

            “Naturally. He doesn’t want to lose his only heir, especially with your mother gone. But if you can make both ___ and Calassi better by your presence, won’t it be worth it to take the risk? Remember that a big part of the exercise in involves change, and with your assignment you should have plenty of potential for that.”

            Cypress brightened a bit and turned to face the Chancellor. “The Council decided my assignment already?”

            “Yes, if your father allows you to accept it. She is known as the Dove of Calassi; there have been whispers amongst the humans of her visiting the beast prince in hopes that her music will slow his changes.”

             “The beast prince…” a soft sigh escaped the fairy prince’s lips at these words.

            Larch placed a gnarled hand on the young man’s shoulder in sympathy. “Don’t worry yourself, young prince. Your mother will not remain in the hands of the humans for much longer, especially if all goes well with your assignment. If executed in just the right way, this girl could lead to the end of the enchantment and Queen Alarken’s release within the year.”

            “So the impending circumstance of war essentially rests on my father’s decision, and if that falls through, on me.” Cypress concluded gloomily, failing to notice the thin shadow falling over him as he spoke.

            “So no pressure, ‘ey Cy?”

            Cypress jumped and turned to face the speaker and was then forced to look up at him. “Hello Tam. No, none at all.”

            Tam’s glittering blue eyes turned on the Chancellor. “’lo Chancellor Larch! Still up and running this early in the morning are you?”

            The Chancellor inclined his head a bit to acknowledge the youth. “Indeed, young Tamarisk. Not everyone in this castle can afford to sleep as late as you do,” he remarked disdainfully. “But I must bid good day to both of you. Prince Cypress, I’m sure I’ll know as soon as your father reaches a decision.” With that, the Chancellor brushed some imaginary dust from his dark blue robes and swept off down the corridor.

            “You’re only young once, Chancellor, as I’m sure you know.” Tam called after him, feeling the need to make his customary parting shot. He yawned and rested his elbow on Cypress’s head to make a point of their differences in height.

            “Get off Tam.” Cypress instructed mildly, though he was unable to hide the slightest hint of a smile.

            “Oh never.” Tam said lightly, looking down at his friend. “It’s definitely not my fault that you’re so short.”

            “Yes, but I’m the prince and you’re purposefully embarrassing me.”

            “I’ve been doing this since we were six. If you get embarrassed this easily, you’re a pretty poor prince.”

            “Fine, then you’re publicly defaming me. Is that better?”

            “Oh hush up, your highness. You can deal with a little humiliation once in a while.” Even so, Tam did shift positions to lean against a wall that shifted a little to accommodate his hand. “Still awaiting the verdict, huh?”

            “Impatiently, yes. What about you? You’re going for your little quest in Calassi soon right?”

            “If the Council ever makes a decision on my assignment. Some of us don’t have the political gravity to control their every whim.”

            “Come now, it’s not my fault I’m royalty.”

            Tam laughed and rested his elbow against the prince’s head once again. “No,” he said ironically, “no it’s not.”

 

*

 

            Bouncing over the hilly landscape of Calassi, Ellyra contemplated how many balls she’d attended in her nineteen years of life. Ever since her father had married that woman her life had been nothing but balls and parties. The frivolity, shallowness and general sense of apathy that abounded in “high society” frustrated her, not to mention how much it forced her to deal with people, many of whom she did not know. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand and watched the small cozy cottages flick past, trying to tune out the obnoxious background noise of her stepsisters’ bickering back and forth in the seat beside her. When they began to debate some small piece of gossip about romance scandals in the court, she closed her eyes, and turned the night’s affairs over in her mind.

 

            “This is our stepsister, the Dove of Calassi.” Rosaline drawled condescendingly.

            Ellyra could feel the blush rising in her cheeks as she responded, somewhat unsteadily. “Just… a stupid nickname, your highness. My name is Ellyra.” She clearly remembered the cold, calculating gaze that swept over her then, analyzing her posture, her face, the air she carried with her.

            “More like the mourning dove of Calassi.” Prince Zayric concluded frostily. “Possessing the personality and dull wit of such a mindless creature, with a somber and brooding attitude best suited to the robes of mourners at funerals. Good day to you.” As the prince strode moodily away, Ellyra found Rosaline’s high, tinkling laugh most unwelcome.

“He must be having a bad day with the ladies of the court,” she quipped merrily and floated away amid the jingling of expensive jewelry, leaving the Dove of Calassi to wonder whether her stepsister had really meant to be so scathing. Ellyra didn’t smile at the joke; half the girls in the kingdom, it seemed, were passionately attracted to Prince Zayric, many of them not just because of his wealth.

            “Mourning dove indeed!” Ellyra muttered to herself as she slipped quietly into a shadowy corner. “I suppose he has a name like that for every girl in the kingdom.”

            For the next hour she watched the dancers whirling prettily over the polished wood floor, the ladies’ dresses blossoming open as they twirled around their partners. From her removed perspective they almost reminded Ellyra of so many brightly color petals tossed by the wind on a fine spring day, but too often one of the dancers would misstep or fall out of rhythm, breaking the flow of the dance.

            “Not that I could do any better,” she reminded herself inwardly as one of the red-cheeked young women recovered from a near fall, clinging to the steadiness of her partner’s arms. “My dress doesn’t even match their color scheme.” she mused and spared a glance down at her own too-small brown and white gown, the only one left in her closet that wasn’t lavish enough for her stepsisters’ taste. Even the touches of silver Eliza had added earlier that morning seemed faded in comparison with the rich silks and satins of the richer guests, to say nothing of her lack of jewelry. Some of the dancers positively dripped with diamonds and amethysts, including Rosaline, with whose tastes Ellyra could never quite agree. The pale girl reached pensively down to finger the silver lily around her neck, her sole adornment, save for the drooping sprigs of baby’s breath wound into her braided hair.

            “Perhaps the prince was right.” She thought drearily to herself, watching him as he danced, stone faced, with a young maiden in pale yellow. “I am plain.”

            “Hiding in a corner again, are you?” Guildria asked from behind her. “Why aren’t you out dancing with everyone else?”

            Ellyra moved to face her other stepsister and leaned against the wall. “I’m tired,” she invented. “And no one’s asked me and even if they did, I’m a terrible dancer.”

            “So am I!” Guildria declared gaily. “No one’s going to ask you if you hide back there in that corner all night. Come into the light! We’ll find you a partner and you can dance the last few before we go home.”

            “The point is that no one sees me, Guildria. I really don’t want—” But Ellyra found herself being dragged on to the floor before the half-finished protest had time to escape her lips. “All right then.” She thought rationally, trying to soothe her annoyance and embarrassment at this new prospect. “I can handle dancing as long as I’m not paired with—”

            “Prince Zayric! What a coincidence!” Guildria trilled, hurrying across the floor toward him.

            Ellyra caught his wince as they approached and was sure that she could feel her stomach writhing. “Guildria, please, I really don’t want to—”

            “Nonsense. You’re a noblewoman now. Well, sort of. By marriage anyway. At any rate, you should be treated as such and dancing with the prince has become your right and privilege.”

“But Guil, I really don’t think the prince will to want to be paired with me!” the helpless, brown-clad dove hissed as they drew closer.

Guildria ignored this last comment and addressed the towering prince, smiling cheerfully and curtsying sloppily before speaking. “Ah Prince Zayric! We’re sorry to trouble you, but my stepsister here finds herself without a partner for the next dance and I strongly suspect she hasn’t danced the entire night.”

Ellyra bowed her head, hoping that her disheveled locks would hide the crimson flush she could feel flooding her cheeks and climbing to her eyes.

“Well, In that case I suggest that you find her a partner, preferably one whose subtly matches your own, madam.  Maybe the town crier…or the court jester.” Zayric responded cuttingly, looking past both young women at someone else beyond them. “But if you ladies would please excuse me, I believe I see my advisor coming to converse with me.”

            Ellyra raised her head just in time to catch sight of Zayric’s slight bow before he retreated impassively into the throng, gently repelling any other supplicants with a few brief words, a gesture or a glance.

“Oh…” Guildria said, dumbfounded. “Later then!” she called after him, her voice losing a bit of its cheery edge.

“I told you it wouldn’t be worth it.” Ellyra murmured softly.

“Next time, right?” Guildria said weakly, patting Ellyra’s shoulder. “Next time I’ll get you to be more social. In the meantime, we should hunt down Rosaline. Mother will want to depart soon.”

           

            The carriage halted abruptly, jerking Ellyra from her reverie.

 “Ellyra?”

The Dove looked up. “Yes Rosaline?”

Her older stepsister looked hard at her for a few minutes before informing her that her cheeks were smudged. “It looks like you’ve been crying. Go wash it off. Come, Guildria. If the servants know what’s good for them they’ll have our baths ready soon.” Rosaline stepped elegantly out of the carriage just as the footman opened the door and waited impatiently for her sister to follow, though Guildria’s exit was far less graceful. Rosaline took her sister by the arm and began to lead her away toward the blazing fireplaces of their miniature manor when she looked over her shoulder.

“Oh, and Ellyra! I expect the servants will take a sufficient amount of time to warm more water. Perhaps you should take your bath in the morning.”

Ellyra, who had not planned any further than changing out of her clothes going down to the stable to visit the horses and her best friend Eliza, nodded numbly. “Yes Rosaline. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night El! Sweet dreams…” Guildria managed to say and gave her a sympathetic look before she was dragged in the direction of the manor.

“Good night…” Ellyra whispered in response. She stood for a few seconds and watched her new step-siblings advance into the night and then turned away from them and made for a significantly smaller and, she thought, much more inviting cottage on the edge of the grounds.

As usual, Eliza’s customary greeting of “come in!” was heard well before Ellyra had lifted her hand to knock on the cedar wood door. Ellyra hadn’t yet gotten an explanation out of her as to how she always knew when company was coming, but she suspected that it had something to do with Eliza’s sensitive hearing and the particularly crunchy gravel that littered her walkway.

              “Good evening Liza.” Ellyra called as she opened the door, shutting it behind her with a satisfying snap.

            Eliza threw another log on the fire that crackled cheerfully in her fireplace and smiled warmly at her friend. “Evening Lyra, though I doubt it finds you well.” Eliza coughed gently, sending a flurry of dust to swirl in the fire light before settling down on the hard packed earth again.

            “Liza, are you all right? You don’t sound so well yourself.” Ellyra commented. Her friend brushed the remark aside with a wave of her hand. “Only a trifling cough. No doubt it’ll be gone by morning. But you look flustered. The ball must’ve been terrible.”

            Sighing, the Dove slipped out of her warm, coarse cloak, a premature guard against the threat of winter in the autumn air outside, and hung it carefully on one of the pegs by the door. “You’re certainly right in the respect,” she moaned, shuffling over to the hearth to sit by the fire with Eliza. “Not only was I forced to associate with the regular ostentation of lofty, glamorous peacocks, Prince Zayric made an appearance and proceeded to humiliate me twice.”

            “Ah, Prince Zayric.” Eliza intoned fondly, coughing again. “He’s the sharpest looking young man in the kingdom, and verily equipped with the sharpest tongue.”

            “Which he chose to unleash on me tonight. Honestly! As if I don’t get enough ‘high and mighty’ drivel from Rosaline every single day as it is! I swear, balls are just a good excuse for the rich to have a good time congratulating each other on being rich and looking down on those who aren’t!” Ellyra vented, irritated.

            “Well look at it this way; at least now you’re one of the upper crust.” Eliza put in, though a bit sarcastically.

            “Oh joy! I’m on the very bottom rung of the upper crust! Now I can be looked on scornfully by the poor and middle class and condescended and distained by the rich! Terrific!” Ellyra had to pause to catch her breath before continuing her rant. “And it’s not as if… that… that woman ever helps! God forbid she ever lifts a finger to do anything except go to parties and complain and tell me to do things. For months now all I’ve heard out of her is ‘Ellyra do this’ or ‘Ellyra pick that up’ or ‘Ellyra you have a spot on your shirt, clean it off this instant!’ I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”   

            “Now, now. Lady Lynette seems to be a perfectly sweet, reasonable, well-meaning human being when one is severely drunk.” Eliza pointed out, smiling for a second before she broke down into another fit of coughing that lasted for nearly a minute.

            Ellyra’s flushed frustration dissipated at her remark but was quickly replaced with concern. “Liza, are you sure you’re all right? You really don’t sound like you—”

Eliza held up a hand before the sentence was finished. “Ellyra, I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I promise I’ll be all right in the morning. Every time you worry like this it always blows over quickly.”

“Yes but—”

            “Don’t think about it, Lyra.” Eliza advised warningly. “You’ll just get depressed. And anyway, it’s really nothing to worry about.” She stood up gracefully and retrieved a brush from the adjacent room, then returned to pull up a small wooden stool on which she sat to disentangle the halfhearted curls from Ellyra’s naturally unruly hair.

            “Thanks Liza.” Ellyra whispered gratefully as Liza sifted the long, fine strands of light brown hair through her fingers and began to brush out the tangles that had inevitably formed during the hours of formality.

            “How’d the dress go over?” Eliza asked conversationally, trying not to pull to hard in order to unsnarl a particularly difficult rat’s nest.

            “Like a sack of potatoes.” Ellyra said, rolling her eyes. “Brown was not the color of choice for the night. And it’s all itchy now. But your additions were wonderful, Liza. Thank you so much. I don’t know where you get the free time to do this.”

            “Free time?” Eliza wondered aloud, coughing once. “What’s that?”

            “Good point.” Ellyra admitted.

            “I make quite a few of those every once in a while.” Eliza told her proudly. “You should see my sword collection.”

            “Liza!” Ellyra chided her, stifling a giggle. “That was terrible, and you don’t even own a sword.”

            “Well no, but I can wield one better than most boys here at the manor can.”

            “Which is even more impressive since you only know the basics of swordplay. I admire your natural skill.”

            “Skill mixed with luck mixed with the boys’ lack of practice. You’re not so bad yourself.”

            “Not that I’ll be practicing for the rest of eternity. If that woman or anyone connected to Rosaline caught me practicing fencing…”

            “Oh I can just hear it. ‘Ellyra! What are you doing? Swordsmanship is boys’ sport! Leave the men to sweat over hacking each other to bits and come embroider something.’”

            “‘But before you do that, be sure you remember to hang out the laundry, scrub the dishes, beat the rugs, cook the Christmas goose and do all your sisters’ chores.’ Thus, I’d end up burning myself and sticking myself more times with that stupid needle than any boy would in a month’s worth of swordsmanship lessons. What dangerous lives we women live!”

            “Only the overworked ones. You just wait until Lady Lynette tries to marry you off. Then it’ll get even more complex.”

            Ellyra groaned. “I shudder to think of it. The farther away that day is the better.”

            Eliza was quiet for a moment, holding the brush still in her hands and coughing weakly before resuming, smiling wryly. “Perhaps you wouldn’t say that if you were in love.”

            “Oh how would you know?” Ellyra retorted. “Are you in love?” 

            “Rather foreboding weather we’re having, isn’t it? The autumn chill and all those clouds scuttling across the moon make for a rather bleak atmosphere, don’t you think?” Eliza responded lightly.

            “All right, all right. I’m sorry I asked.”

            “Ah yes, quite cold, recently. Damp, too, sometimes.”

            “Eliza!” 

            “Yes, yes. I’ll stop. You’re hair is about as untangled as I can get it, and I’m sure you want to wriggle out of the dress soon so you can actually have a chance to breathe. But anyway, we should get to bed. I’ve got to feed the horses their breakfast tomorrow and walk a few of them. Want to join me?”

            Ellyra smiled faintly. “I’d love to, as long as I can escape my pseudo-family for a while. I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

            Eliza put her brush aside and stood as the Dove put on her cloak. “I hope so. Sleep well, Lyra. At least they can’t boss you around in your dreams.”

            “At least. Good night Liza.”

            As Ellyra walked down the long pathway to the manor house she reflected on how wonderful it was to have good friends like Liza. As long as she had people in her life who could keep her going, she was sure she could face anything thrown in her way so long as she had people to stand beside her and hold her up when the need arose. When she reached the top of the sweeping steps to the front door she glanced over her shoulder at the welcoming light in the distance that marked Eliza’s house and smiled to herself. She coughed a few times as she pulled open the heavy door and slipped into the manor, ready for a well earned night’s sleep.

Author's Note

I'm really working on my dialogue, but the progress is going slowly. Comment on it, in particular, would be nice, as would general critique about the way the plot is shaping up.

Reviews

[Hannah!]

I liked your dialogue a lot, especially that of the chancellor. He reminded me of every teacher I've ever had all rolled into one person, and I got a sense for his voice right away. The king seemed to have a pretty powerful presence, too, and Liza. I'm still trying to get used to those whom I expect to be more central characters--Ellyra, Cypress, and Tamarisk (though of those three, Tam definitely comes across the strongest).

There were a few things. First, a question. At the beginning, when the King and Cadagi are having their argument/conversation, is the King saying "we" in reference to himself and the queen, or is he using the royal "we"? It struck me as odd as first, but it did make sense after I thought about it--I was just wondering what the we was in reference to.

Also, there are times when your characters say "for", as in "because". This may just be a personal preference thing, but in my opinion, "for" ALWAYS sounds pretentious and unnatural; I can't imagine anyone, even a fancy formal courtier, using "for" instead of "because" in regular speech. Of course, you may disagree--it does fit with some characters, and some characters would never say because, and some settings just don't allow it. When that comes around, I tend to just leave the conjunction out--I'm too lazy to point out specific points, but most of the time, when you put it there, it wasn't really needed at all; you could just use a semi-colon and the words would sound much more natural.

I thought Tam's easy-going friendliness seemed a little bit over-the-top and forced at the beginning, though I liked the "teasing brother" relationship you established between him and Cypress. I have a feeling that I'm going to either like Tam or hate him--he's struck me as one of those characters that you just cannot go half-way on.

The ball scene, in my opinion, doesn't need to be italicized. A lot of writers do that to denote flashbacks, of course, but I personally HATE reading things that are written in italics, and it seems pretty well indicated that Ellyra is remembering the events that transpired, so I didn't think that the italics were necessary.

I hope that nasty cough of Liza's isn't foreshadowing a terrible sickness and eventual death. D: I hate it when the friendly, funny characters die--I liked Liza A LOT. Her personality brought out Ellyra's personality really, really well; it was Liza that gave me a feel for Ellyra, so good job there.

I lost track of time while I was reading this--that's always a good sign! Good work on this chapter; can't wait to read the next one!

Edit: As an afterthought, I just had to add this: I loved Zayric. I'm sure that I wasn't supposed to, but he made me laugh. There's something so appealing about characters who are just...mean. I don't know why. Not at all. XD

[James Watts]

Not a bad piece. Holds the reader and keeps us wanting to see what happens next.

[Stevious]

This chapter held my attention throughout and was making me think forward, trying to work out where things were headed, which is to its credit.

I agree with the previous comment on the need to italicize the flashback, it does make it clear to the reader whats going on, but it does make it harder to read which, in my opinion, outweighs the benefits.

Your character voices seemed to work as i always knew who was talking and i look forward to seeing some character development. I'm also going to assume that there is more to Eliza than meets the eye. The illness thing; very clever, nice way of introducing things that will have the readers annoyed with themselves for not noticing when the truth is finally reveled. Of course, i might be wrong about that character and about why she is there, but i will find out.

I will read on, keep it coming!