Faith had been a princess once. She’d been beautiful, once. Part of her would always feel like that part of her life should have meant something. After all, Princesses were the ones people wrote stories about. Fairy tales, where they had magic and lived happily ever after. But the truth was, any chance of her life being a fairy tale had ended on her sixteenth birthday. Her father, King Titus of Azgeda, had given her over to his brother Roan in payment of…some debt that she’d never really had explained to her. After all, she was property to be traded and property didn’t need to understand why.
And Roan had broken her. In every way that she’d imagined a human being could be broken, and in ways that she’d never dreamed existed before that moment. For two long, unending years she’d been beaten and abused for every petty violation of Roan’s equally petty rules and guidelines - and also simply when he felt like it would be amusing to hurt her. Which also happened often. Over time Faith became a patchwork collection of scars, both inside and out, and she all but felt the beauty people had once seen in her wither up and die like a flower left too long without water. When she was collected by two of her father’s guards shortly after she turned eighteen, the shell of a girl that they carried through the hall and into a waiting caravan bore little resemblance to the beautiful young woman she’d once been. In her place was a servant, who’d abandoned her own dreams and her own life to serve the will and whims of another.
She was cleaned up as best she could be, dressed in pastel colored finery that felt foreign after two years of rags, and even her hair - dark brown, gone flat and lifeless during her captivity - was done up into something resembling a proper style. She was roughly gagged with a piece of cloth, hands bound behind her, and marched into an unfamiliar palace with smartly dressed guards who looked at her with eager grins. Bringing her before the throne they kicked her leg out from under her, leaving her no choice but to kneel. “Stay on your knees, whelp,” the guard instructed. This part, though, Faith could do. Head down, gaze directed at the floor, offering nothing but subservience. She’d had more than enough practice.
“Queen Ainsley,” one of the guards announced. “Your delivery from King Titus has arrived. I apologize for the state of her, but there’s very little that one can do to clean up such a sad specimen. I fear that her father might have been less than honest when he promised you a Princess - this girl is no Princess. Barely passable as a servant.” He spat at her feet and Faith flinched for the first time, hoping that her transgression could be forgiven.
Queen Ainsley was a woman who was feared by many. Not simply because she ran her kingdom with an iron fist to ensure she’d keep the respect of her people. Or that she had won more battles than most of the current Kings combined. No, it wasn’t her will or strength, it was the rumours that swirled on people’s tongues at the mention of her name. Rumours that she was a witch. Rumours that she could bring entire Kingdom’s to their knees with the flick of her wrist, or that she could bat her eyes and dry up entire crops. Those were the reasons she was feared across all of the land.
Though Ainsley knew they all tensed at the very thought of her because of one simple fact. That she was a woman.
Being that she had held her thrown for years, even being only in her twenties herself. It was no surprise when word of King Titus threatening her lands had reached her ears once more. He clearly hadn’t learnt the first time she had bested him. Naturally she’d sent a raven as a warning call, and a day later some of her finest soldiers were ready to march on Azgeda. It was only a mere day later that she was receiving word of the King wanting to have a meeting with her, that they could come to some sort of agreement.
In other words, he knew she’d crush him and this was his time to beg for mercy.
If she didn’t already despise the man before, what made her hate him even more was the fact not only did he offer up gold, horses, weapons, all things she had the best of already, but he offered up his daughter as a bargaining chip.
But she’d accepted, if nothing else than to watch him squirm. Besides this trade off only meant she wouldn’t attack this time, not that Azgeda would have her protection for the future.
Upon announcement of her newest guest Ainsley sat up a bit straighter on her throne, eyes narrowing as she took in the appearance of the girl. This girl looked more like she was plucked out of the nearest brothel than from a throne room. Was she surprised? No. It was King Titus after all.
Raising her hand to indicate the guard should stop talking, she glanced the girl over before her gaze narrowed on the guard. Standing from her throne she arched an expectant brow at him. “I trust you have a piece of cloth within that armour, do you not?”
“And with that cloth you can get down on the ground and clean the mess you made on my floor. I do not care who you think you are. You are in my Kingdom, and you will not show that kind of disrespect here. Understood?”
Everything around them seemed to stop as the guard grew flustered, then angry and when he was about to pipe up once more, the quick notice of The Queen’s guard ready and willing to take him out was enough to shut him up and have him down on the ground, wiping the spit.
“If you even think about bringing that cloth anywhere near the Princess, I will have your head. You two are dismissed, get out. Now.”
Waiting until they had left, mumbling the whole way Ainsley soon turned her gaze down to the girl, still kneeling on the floor.
Pulling her dagger out of her belt she knelt down to cut the rope tying the girl’s hand and removed the piece of fabric from her mouth before stepping back to stand in front of her once more.
“Well up you get. Just because the men you’ve been around enjoy seeing you with bruised knees does not mean that I want to. Besides we have much to discuss. First things first, do you have a name or shall I give you a new one?”
