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Queen of Serpents || Galan Ashryver - Chapter One

{WARNINGS: adult language, fantasy violence, woman owning her sexuality and her body, woman using her sexuality and body as a weapon, woman saying “fuck emotions i’m scared”, toxic parents, self-harm, self-hate, fucked up family)

She despised traveling by boat. Sailing made her stomach churn and her head ache. The smell of the sea was enough to make her wish to gag. The salty, briny, fishy mess was enough to make anyone's head spin.

Considering that Kalthanen was an island nation, one would assume that the Crown Princess had spent most of her life on a ship. That was not the case. Arya had spent most of her life in the training rooms, wielding a blade and learning her poisons. She had the scars to prove it.

Aragorn had spent more time on a ship than anyone. Yet even he would have found the two and a half week journey to be torturous. He also would have been the one to complain about it.

Arya fanned herself with the book in her hands. She hadn't bothered to read it in the nearly three weeks she had been on the voyage. It was filled with Wendlyn's genealogy. She had not bothered to check out who she would be trying to get a marriage from.

She was no longer trusted to secure anyone with a crown. The lordlings in Kalthanen had heard too much about her shame and she would rather kill them than see their smirks. She would rather remind them that she was to be feared, respected. So Wendlyn had been the next best thing.

Even if the journey was ridiculous.

The sun glittered off the sea, a beautiful sight that she was used to waking up to every day. Her bedroom back home overlooked the sea. Her heart ached for Kalthanen. For the wet heat and the airy fashions. Already she could feel a chill on her bare legs and her cleavage.

"Your Highness," a man said from behind her, keeping as far from her as he possibly could. A good idea considering that she had been known to strike out at whatever man surprised her. She had already wounded two sailors in the short time aboard the ship.

They'd begun calling her a demon. It was a fitting description.

"Captain," she said as she turned to face him, a bored look on her features.

The captain was a tall man with broad shoulders and a face that had not been shaved in days. He smelled of brandy and the sea. A scent that was only adding to Arya's nausea.

His smile was crooked as he peered down at her with small, watery eyes of dull brown. He thought he was handsome and clever. "We will be docking shortly, ma'am."

Casually, she began to stroke the head of the snake wrapped around her left bicep. The snake was pitch black and had a nasty temperament. He had a habit of biting anyone that was not Arya. Aragorn bore the most scars as he couldn't leave Nox alone. Her brother seemed to think that he should be able to have his own pet snake. "That's good. My poor little babies haven't been able to properly stretch out," she didn't bother to look at the captain as she continued to stroke the blue-back snake.

The captain's Adam's apple bobbed once as he looked at the snakes wrapped around Arya's biceps. The crew firmly thought that the princess must have some type of magic in order to keep the serpents tame enough to be a fashion accessory. She would never confirm nor deny the claims. It was better to keep them guessing.

"No, I suspect they haven't." The man said after a moment, his head nodding once more. "Shall I have your things brought up?"

"Yes, Captain. Make sure my ladies know I'll be needing them the second we dock."

The captain took this as a dismissal and left without a word.

Arya had that effect on people.

If only she had the same effect on her traveling companions. She had brought her lady maids with her, although it was not out of the kindness of her heart. They had not been allowed to tend to her in Adarlan and she had found it dreadful, to say the least. She had needed someone to help her with her dressing and making sure she was presentable. Not to mention administering her daily poisons had been more difficult when she was doing it herself.

Her cousin, Calanon, had also been ordered to travel with her. Her parents had said it was for her safety but she knew the truth. Calanon was there in case she failed. He was to be judge, jury, and executioner should she not find a good match within the time frame she had been given.

One year.

One measly year and then her life would be forfeit.

Her parents had already rid themselves of two daughters. They had Aragorn. There was no need for Arya and her failings. It was a miracle they hadn't done anything already.

She took a breath through her nose as Wendlyn slowly came into view.

The ports were lively, she could hear people calling out to each other from her place on the ship. She could see the small shops along the docks becoming clearer. Most sold items fit for sailors. There was also a small pub that she assumed most of the crew would be quick to visit. If only to wipe the memory of her from them.

The sailors on the ship moved around, laughing joyfully as they prepared to dock. She had no clue what was happening. Another one of my many failings, she thought bitterly. If she had spent more time on ships perhaps she could have helped.

But learning how to fight had been expected of her. Not learning how to sail.

The ship docked with a slight rustle, her feet nearly going out from under her. Her hands gripped the railing tightly, knuckles turning as white as the snake on her right bicep. Luna was her angel, the sweetest creature on the planet and the deadliest. One bite and whoever had pissed Arya off would sleep forever.

Her ladies quickly filed over to her, fixing her gown and hair. They made sure she would look every bit the exotic princess. One of her maids made sure to secure her tiara perfectly in place, braiding the ends into her hair.

"I suppose you think you'll eat them alive, cousin." Calanon appeared from the shadows, swinging a blade lazily.

"It's what I tend to do," she replied without once looking at him.

"Oh yes, I suppose you do," Calanon laughed as he stepped over to her. He dismissed her maids with a lazy wave of his hand. She glared at him as he did so.

If it had been anyone else, her maids would have told him very kindly to fuck off. However, Calanon was known to harm anyone who remotely pissed him off. The slightest joke at his expense could result in someone losing a body part. One they liked particularly well.

Calanon offered her his arm as the gangway was lowered. She didn't look at him as she took his arm in hers, her fingers gently resting against his forearm. Nox hissed once, slithering further up Arya's arm in order to get further away from Calanon.

She cooed soothingly at her favorite pet, before steeling her face into a sea of a calm, icy ocean. No one would ever get past her defenses. She knew it better than anyone.

Arya kept her head held high, carrying herself as though she were a queen, as she and Calanon made their way down the gangway and toward a cream and blue carriage that waited for them. The seal of the royal family of Wendlyn was painted on the doorway.

A nice touch that she hadn't gotten from Adarlan.

Considering that the King of Adarlan had not wanted her around, it seemed only right that Wendlyn already seemed more welcoming than Adarlan ever had.

"Your Highness," a footman bowed to her and Calanon before opening the carriage door. "His Highness wishes to welcome you to Wendlyn."

Arya gave the footman a winning smile, already playing the game that she had tried in Adarlan. "I hope Prince Galan will find the time to welcome me himself. Give him my thanks for this beautiful carriage."

The footman seemed relieved as she stepped into the carriage with her cousin's help. It was lucky for Calanon that she did not close the door on him and make him walk with the servants. She would have done so had she not worried that he would take it as an excuse to go ahead and kill her.

There was no trusting her cousin. Ever since they were children he had been a thorn in her side. She had to deal with attempted poisonings, him using sharpened swords during training sessions where they were supposed to use only dull blades, and worst of all his tongue. Calanon was perhaps the one person in this world that Arya truly hated. Not even the King of Adarlan had felt her hatred. Nor had that annoying Champion of his.

"Remember cousin, you're not here for the princeling," Calanon stated as the carriage began to make its way to the castle.

"Yes, I know. Father made sure I knew," she snapped at her cousin. She didn't look at him as he sat across from her. She didn't want to be reminded of her own features.

The royal family of Kalthanen all looked somewhat similar. Even Calanon, who was the king's brother's son. They had hair the color of fire. Calanon's was styled in an upwards manner, as though he were hoping it would give him a few extra inches of height. Arya was nearly three inches taller than him, a fact that made him mad. The pair also shared the same sky blue eyes. The same color of a lazy summer sky, where the clouds were sparse and the sun wasn't as intense as it could have been. However, Calanon's face was sharper, his jawline coated with the faintest beard and his cheekbones high enough that one would assume they could cut a diamond with his face.

Arya's features were softer than most of her family. Her chin came to a soft point, her jawline was just a bit softer than the harsher lines of her parents and brother. Her features made her appear almost innocent. The small nose and the gentle lips of a smiling princess made her more approachable. It was her attitude and her actions that kept people afraid of her.

Just how she wanted it.

She preferred having a chance to wear several different faces. She could play the damsel in distress or the evil queen. Nothing was too extreme for her. As long as it suited her agenda.

As the castle came into view, she couldn't stop comparing it to Adarlan's infamous glass castle. She still didn't understand what idiot decided it was a good idea to build a palace of glass. It was surely going to explode one of these days. She was just saddened that she would not be around to see it fall. Instead of glass, Wendlyn's castle was made of beautiful white stone. It was larger than the airy, open palace of Kalthanen and smaller than Adarlan's glass castle. It was perhaps the perfect size.

The royal family was obviously powerful. They just didn't feel the need to tell the world this with the size of their palace. It was a smart move on their part. One that she greatly admired.

The turrets grew larger as they came closer to the palace. Arya's nerves began to build as well. She had never been a nervous person, always having found that she was in control of herself and thus could take care of whatever situation at hand. If that was with a cunning tongue or a slip of poison, she could command a room or a man.

The Havilliard situation had caused her to doubt herself. That stupid little princeling had gotten away from her. She'd lost her chance at securing a perfect political alliance and thus had thrown away any future she may have had. She'd never forget the look on his face when he had found out that she had betrayed him.

She hadn't loved Dorian. Not really. But she had grown to respect him. He wasn't as stupid as she had been led to believe. Perhaps that was yet another reason why her exile had hit her so hard.

She tried not to think of this as they entered the castle's large, ornate gates. The crest of the Wendlyn royals was made of curved iron in the middle of both of the gates. She didn't see how they had ever stood up against an invasion.

Calanon snorted at the sight, his expression full of distaste. "They think highly of themselves, don't they?"

"We can't all be as restrained as you, dear cousin." Arya crossed one bare leg over the other, the deep ruby panels of silk kept her modesty but just barely. The fashions of Kalthanen were made for comfort and ease of movement, as well as to keep the heat from being paralyzing.

Calanon rolled his eyes at her as the carriage rolled to a stop. "Put that pretty little smile on. We have a show to put on."

She nodded her head once as the door of the carriage opened. Her cousin stepped out first, leaving her in the carriage by herself for a moment.

You are Arya Nostariel. You are a weapon. No one controls you. You will not fail.

She repeated the words to herself over and over again as she took Calanon's hand in hers and allowed him to help her from the carriage.

The red silk hit the ground first, her golden high heeled shoes did not make a sign as she stood to her full height. The sun behind her made her look like a dream, her snakes seemed to enjoy the warmth from it as well. They brought their heads up, forked tongues coming out to smell the air and see if there was anyone they could sink their teeth into.

Her eyes scanned the crowd on the steps. Most were servants, as made apparent by the crisp white shirts and stiff cotton dresses. Three people stood in front. It didn't take the crowns atop their heads for one to recognize them as the royal family.

Arya dropped into a curtsey, hating every second of it. Bowing before any man-made her feel sick. But one that she wasn't even trying to seduce? That was enough to make her see red.

"Please, you're our guests here," the king smiled down at her and Calanon. He was an older man. His hair had turned grey, but she could still a subtle hint of the brown it had once been. His eyes were surrounded by lines, smile lines and laugh lines were among the various wrinkles on his face. His eyes were those of the Ashryver family. Blue-ringed with gold.

Arya stood before her cousin had a chance, a maid cringed at how much skin she was showing. Just another reminder of how different their cultures were. "The pleasure is ours, majesty. I have always found Wendlyn fascinating. I am excited to see it first hand."

Pretty words, pretty lies. All that Arya was ever gifted at. She would always try to charm her way into the hearts of those that she needed to like her. She didn't think that she was enough otherwise.

Her eyes drifted to the man standing between the king and the queen.

Dorian Havilliard had been a beautiful man. With his raven hair and sapphire eyes, he had managed to catch Arya's eye. Despite his crown, she would have still gone after him. Yet, the man standing in front of her could put Dorian's looks to shame.

"Your Highness," the man sank down to a bow, going down to one knee as he did so. He gently took Arya's hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. She would have blushed had she not had as much training.

His eyes were the same as his father but his skin was a few shades darker. Tanned from long hours outside, possibly from training with his men. His face was untouched by age, where Dorian had the slightest of wrinkles from the stress he had been under. The smile on his face reached his beautiful eyes, causing an uproar in Arya's stomach that she would later chide herself for. His hair was neatly held back by his crown, although she could tell that it would fall in waves of light brown around his face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Galan Ashryver stood then, taking a bit too long to release Arya's hand. She didn't know if he had not thought about it or if he was just the type of princeling who thought he deserved whatever he wanted. While he had not looked at her body, she wouldn't put it past him to believe he owned her. Princelings were annoying like that.

"Likewise, your Highness," she stated with a slight smile. Even if he was a beautiful man, more so than anyone she had ever seen before, she would not allow herself to fall for his charms. It wouldn't do.

"Jefferson will show you to your rooms," he said as he gestured to a man who was standing just a few feet away from the royal family. The man was much bigger than the average butler. He was built like a warrior, with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. Muscles that would crush her if they wrapped around her at all.

His head was clean-shaven and he was dressed in the same crisp white shirt and plain black pants of the other servants. However, he also had a sharp navy jacket that showcased his superiority to the other servants.

Arya nearly smirked at the realization that they were getting a superior servant. She liked knowing that she was getting everything that she deserved.

"Thank you," she said with a slight nod. She and Calanon linked arms again as Jefferson nodded his head towards them and headed inside the palace.

Calanon kept his head forward as they walked, Arya turned to look over her shoulder. The princeling was looking at her.

She raised her hand in a flirty wave, ignoring the jab in her ribs from Calanon. Her cousin would be certain to keep her from enjoying the prince in any manner of the word. She wouldn't allow him to make all of her decisions for her but she would attempt to keep him from becoming cross with her. Arya knew better than to piss him off.

It would only lead to her destruction.

"Your Highness," Jefferson turned to the young princess with a slight smile. One that was as kind as Galan's had been. "These are your rooms. My staff has already escorted your ladies, they should be here to help you prepare for dinner."

"Thank you, Jefferson," Arya nodded her head once before she slipped into her chambers. She shut the door before Calanon could step inside.

She rested against the door, a soft sigh escaping her lips. This was sure to be one of the hardest things she had done in her life. She knew that she was supposed to find a lordling. One she could whisk away to Kalthanen. One that she could tease and torment.

The prince being the most beautiful man she had ever seen was not something that she had expected. She had assumed he'd be some snotty brat who didn't know who was really in charge.

Galan seemed nice. But that didn't mean anything. After all, Arya seemed nice enough. She just wasn't. She was the monster that Adarlan's prince had destroyed. The monster that he had vanquished and then had been set loose on Wendlyn's shores. She was almost disgusted by what Dorian thought of her.

Almost.

She was just doing as she had been told. She was trying to bring her kingdom the security it needed. Kalthanen had only been missed in Adarlan's conquering because it was such a tiny kingdom. Although it was the whole world to Arya.

The princess opened her eyes as she heard her ladies moving in the closed-off bedchamber. She stood in the foyer of her chambers, where there was a small fireplace and a place for entertaining visitors. She didn't know how many visitors she would receive but she wouldn't complain. The chambers in the Wendlyn palace were perhaps the closest thing to Kalthanen she would get for a very long time. She would have to make the best of a situation that she didn't want to be in. She would have to play the role she had been born to play.

#arya nostariel #galan ashryver #ashryver #wendlyn #demi-fae #mate au #arya has problems with emotions #galan is a simp #slowburn #arya is kinda a bitch but #brought over from my quotev