"A fantastical cross between the Beauty and the Beast and ACOTAR."
A prince, a witch, and a wolf are tied together by the sins of their parents. Can they break free of the secrets that bind them, or will the Kingdom of Eidas forever be under a terri...
Iron wrought gates taller than old oaks wound their way above Dal's head. The Avorian crest etched into the sides of the stone walls made the entrance appear regal. Tall centurions guarded each side of the gates, their armour gleaming with magic.
"I'm not so sure about this," Dal said, eyeing the hardened warriors.
"If you do as I say you should have no issue gaining entry. Now, repeat back to me what we rehearsed?"
"My name is Dalia Peppercorn. I am here to present my services to the Grand Magistrar for his open apprenticeship in foretelling, magics, and sightseeing," Dal recited.
"Good," her mother nodded.
Aragda leaned forward and tucked an auburn curl behind Dal's ear. A soft expression crossed her mother's face, as she seemed to lose herself in thought for a moment.
"What if he says no?" Dal asked.
"He won't."
Dal was skeptical, to say the least. She was a nobody, born from the depths of Lunoira, the capital city of Eatrahan. How was she supposed to convince a Grand Magistrar, an expert of his field, to take her on as an apprentice?
Her mother sighed, reading the wariness on her face. "Just trust me, Dalia."
Dal reluctantly nodded, surprised to hear her full name leave her mother's mouth. She turned and approached the Centurian guards with as close to an impression of Mother Marian's fluid walk as she could muster.
Grace. Poise. Eleganc-
Dal tripped over her new dress. She held her arms out and braced for an impact that never came. Dal felt a strong grasp clutch at her middle.
She turned to thank her savior when her voice got caught in her throat. She looked up into the face of one of the most handsome men that she had ever seen in her life. Piercing blue eyes shocked her to silence. Dal's eyes flickered to his ebony hair and then to his strong jawline, covered in light stubble. A moment passed, and she realized that she was staring.
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As her common sense returned to her brain, she realized with ultimate clarity that it was his strong arms that were wrapped around her midsection.
Dal jumped from the man's embrace, ignoring his concerned expression, and cast her eyes to the ground.
"My apologies, Sir," she mumbled, feeling her cheeks set ablaze with embarrassment. She glanced about for her mother, who was nowhere to be found.
The man chuckled.
"In a hurry, miss?"
Dal glanced behind her to the guards, who regarded her with amusement written in their features. They no doubt witnessed her clumsiness.
Dal cleared her throat and tried to hold her head a little higher. She could not forget her purpose.
"Yes Sir, I am. I have come to fill the Grand Magistrar's apprenticeship position."
The mysterious man raised an eyebrow, his gaze fluttering up and down her body for a brief moment.
"You think you have what it takes to apprentice with the most well-known mage in Eatrahan?" Dal was not deaf to the disbelief in his voice.
For the briefest moment, Dal felt offended. Then she recalled the real reason that she was at the castle.
"Yes," she swallowed hard.
The beautiful man smiled, sending a thrill of strange emotion to the depths of her gut.
"Then I wish you luck, lady...?"
"Dalia - but I'm no lady," she quickly replied.
"Well then, good luck, Miss Dalia."
Before she could make more of a fool of herself, she turned on her heel and marched towards the Centurions. She raised her head to repeat her miniature monologue that she'd rehearsed with her mother, but the guards had already begun to raise the gates. The clicking of metal against metal resounded off of the stone walls, and the iron-wrought portcullis raised higher and higher above her head.
Dal looked curiously towards the Centurions, but they only stared blankly back at her.
She hadn't expected her entry to be so easy.
One of the soldiers nodded behind her, and she turned to see who might have given her passage, but there was no one there.
Not even the brooding, handsome man.
She shook her head and continued on the cobblestone path towards the castle entrance. She could only embrace her rare good luck. Perhaps her mother was right about reversing this curse, after all.
