The brilliant light of the March sun streamed into Hèmène's office like a flamboyant guest, refusing to await an invitation. Iridescent tendrils of silvery mist crept over the valley, its last traces slithering up the mountainsides as morning made way for afternoon.
The blizzards that had raged over the region for the past months had finally ceased their onslaught. In their wake, the valley of Arcadia looked like an unfinished painting. Much of the canvas was an untouched white hue, as if it was anxiously anticipating the return of the artist's hand.
The wind howled through the cold air, harshly pulling at the panes of the office's windows as Maebh sat scribbling doodles in her notebook –occasionally exclaiming an "ooh" or "ahh" as she feigned interest in whatever Hèmène was saying.
It had been more than a year since she had learned of her grandmother's death and the inheritance that altered her life. Strange how so much could change in 365 days. A single orbital period of the earth moving in its orbit around the sun and Maebh was in line to become a glorified surrogate.
"Arcadia is a semi-constitutional monarchy. What this means is that we as monarchs are bound by codes of conduct. Although predominantly ceremonial, our function does allow us to have authority over the state, which in turn is closely monitored by the Curia Regis. Our ord- Maebh are you listening?"
Maebh, who had been tapping the desk repetitively with the end of her pen, sat up straight, "Yes, yes. Semi-constitutional monarchy, Curia Regis, etcetera."
The queen eyed her suspiciously before continuing. "Our order of succession is solely hereditary, as you know. Primogeniture. The eldest son inherits the crown. Childbearers, for that matter, become queen ensuing the birth of their firstborn." Hèmène explained. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. When time is ripe, you will first need to consummate the bond with Fillin in his other form."
Maebh blinked. "I don't think I understand."
Pleased to see the young woman was paying attention, the queen leant forward. "Your ability to grow and birth a healthy crown prince is what consequently makes you queen."
"Misogyny at its finest, but I'll pretend to ignore that." She pulled a face. "I actually meant that last bit though."
"I'm sure you've seen the tapestries of Lycanthropes fornicating with human women." Hèmène briefed dismissively.
Maebh abruptly rose from her seat. "You're not serious?"
"Now Maebh-"
Her facial expression was one of absolute distress as she paced back and forth like a caged tiger. "That is fucking atrocious!"
"Darling, contain yourself. It's not as bad as it seems. As members of the royal family, let us reflect the morals laid down by our ancestors."
Maebh stopped dead in her tracks before turning back to the queen. "You let Maccon do.. that.. to you?"
"In order to consummate the bond, yes-" she primly folded her hands on her lap. "as is customary."
A frustrated groan escaped her throat. "I'm getting sick and tired of these degrading customs!"
"Maebh, try and excersise a modicum of respect."
"I respectfully decline." She scowled, storming out of the office with an exasperated Hèmène calling after her.
Wrapped up in winter gear, a rosy-cheeked Maebh slammed the heavy double doors of the entrance hall sometime later. She made her way down the mount the castle's majestic structure was carved into, and towards the furthest strip of forest that connected the valley to the Kluane nature reserve and the rest of the St. Elias mountain range.
Stamping to keep warm, she pulled her woollen hat over her reddened ears. The sub-zero air seeped into her gloves and numbed her fingers until they ceased to bend properly.
Had she locked herself in the tower room, Maebh could have called her friends or parents to vent. As an alternative, she'd opted for a walk in the crisp cold in order to clear her head.
Albeit educational, her lessons with the queen were an overwhelming hotpot of cultural shock. Now that Fillin had been gone for the past 13 days, she hadn't been able to utilise his person as a diversion technique for her brain's reluctance to even remotely embrace her future role.
Apart from their little moment the other night, something had changed. It had been so incredibly easy to dislike Fillin at first. But lately, his hot and cold behaviour had simmered to a minimum boil, at intervals only the slightest bit on the lukewarm side.
Maebh watched as each footfall sank into the crystalline snow, then like she was still five she turned around to see the path her boots had laid out behind her in the otherwise pristine white. Just before her head flicked back around, she spied two distinct silhouettes trailing her, both clutching bundles of clothes between their jaws.
Not slowing her pace, she pointed a gloved digit at the red- and brown wolves.
"Keep your distance, feckers!"
Determined, she trudged on in the direction of a clearing. Spruce, birch and pines lined the path, gradually thinning out. She couldn't wait for the trees to stir awake from hibernation, growing unnoticed buds until the delicate papery leaves and blooms within were finally ready to reveal themselves.
Indifferent to the consequences, Maebh launched herself into a soft curving drift and perched up against a stump. With arms crossed and her legs outstretched, she could feel her body heat melting the snow underneath and seeping into her trousers.
"Miss, you're going to catch frostbite." An unfamiliar voice remarked.
Maebh spun her head to the side, taking in the moustached, young man bowing over her. "Who are you?"
"Dai Kogarashi, Miss. While his Royal Highness and SIC Lyall are away, I've been assigned to assist SIC Lockhart in guarding you."
Until then, nobody had ever referred to Zeff or Benjamin by their surnames, which she supposed had something to do with rank. The latter sat on his hindlegs at a distance, observing in his beastly form.
"Nice to meet you but please leave, I'm having some me-time."
Suddenly, Benjamin's ears perked up.
Maebh followed his gaze and saw four small wolves stepping into the clearing, and then something bizarre occurred. Resembling a bunch of lost puppies, they flew up to her the second they spotted her. Benjamin prowled forward, ready to take a protective stance. But to everyone's surprise, they meant her no harm. Instead the wolves crowded her, seemingly desperate for her attention and wagging their tails as they galloped to her side.
Holding out her hand, Maebh laughed at the ticklish sensation that was caused by one of them pressing its cold nose against her fingers and its rough tongue delivering swift licks to her palm.
"I'll be damned." Dai exclaimed as he watched the scene unfold.
The wolves took their turn pushing forward, wet trails being left by paws raking down her trousers. Eager for her attention, they whined as she turned from one to the next, each of them desperate to be the one she focused on.
"Oh hi lads! You're a wee bit small aren't you?" Maebh muttered, highly amused.
"That's because they're regular wolves." Benjamin, who had forsaken his furry skinsuit, noted apprehensively.
Taken aback by the revelation that they weren't in fact Lycans, her hand hovered in the air hesitantly.
One wolf placed its muzzle on her upper thigh as it got on the ground. Soon, the others followed and encircled Maebh, engulfing her in warmth. The gesture was all the convincing she needed to rest at ease.
Dai, however, did not reflect the same frame of mind. "Be careful, Miss. They might bite."
Glaring, Maebh sharply angled her head up at him. "Spellbinding reiteration, simply riveting. But if I'm to believe your queen, you lot will do far worse than just biting me." She spat, before mulling over her words and quickly adding, "Sorry, that was uncalled for."
The moustached man swallowed what he had been planning to say, looking a little lost as he turned to the Second in Command.
Benjamin's nostrils widened as he exhaled through his nose. "We'll leave you be for now but we won't stray far, not with those things around. Call if you need anything."
Maebh hummed affirmatively and disregarded the sound of altering bones that reverberated behind her as she brushed the head of the wolf resting on her upper thigh.
With a giddy little grin, she combed her fingers through the thick pelt of another wolf. Her trousers had become soaking wet but she barely noticed, too distracted by the peculiar position she had found herself in.
Lost in reverie, an unknown amount of time passed. Her lips turned blueish and her teeth began chattering like a pneumatic drill. Even with the comfort of the wolves' warm bodies, the laughing wind sneaked up on every bit of exposed skin, wrapping around her like a shawl woven from the snow itself.
Her body urged her to get up and move around to work the stiffness from her limbs. But she hadn't the heart to wake the now sleeping wolves.
The decision was made for her by the buzz of a forewarning presence and an animalistic growl that resulted in the wolves jumping up and scurrying off between the trees.
Maebh too bolted to her feet, her tormented muscles screaming as she stretched and turned to the unsurprising culprit, quickly suppressing the mortifying amount of glee that flared up at the sight of him. "What did you do that for?"
Rather than answering, the prince stripped out of his jeans, grumbling something along the lines of, "Foolish woman."
Mouth wide open, Maebh gaped as he offered her the garment, leaving him with unclothed legs.
"No, you-"
"Take it."
Fillin turned around to offer her some privacy and she sat down on the tree stump. The drop in body temperature was making her hands tremble uncontrollably and when she peeled off her drenched trousers with notable effort, the skin underneath was bright red, clearly fighting to overcome the freezing cold.
The prince wore a thick coat, his boots were neatly laced and his bottom tightly encased in boxers. His bronzed, muscled limbs sharply contrasted against the white of the arctic landscape. A normal person would have looked utterly comical but Fillin continued to present an imposing figure.
"I-uhh thanks, feels loads warmer." Maebh spoke, indicating that it was safe for him to turn back around.
Alas, without a word or a single look at her, Fillin strode off to the other side of the clearing.
"Wait! I came from that direction." she called after him, only to be ignored.
For a second, she entertained the thought of not going after him but resigned to her inevitable defeat with a huff –quickly hurrying after the prince.
An unseen path lead them past densely packed trees, twists and turns steering them down the contour of a hill. The density of the forest concealed what lay up ahead, like ghostly observers of the surrounding, snowy nature. After a sharp bend in the path, a looming view was revealed.
Stone steps carved into the mountainside lead down to a river and a deep sense of serenity overcame Maebh as she stared enraptured at the expanse of white that lay before her. The mountains lay in line, the spine of the land, the pulse of the earth. Their bold silhouettes resembled beasts of old, as if long ago, they had laid down to sleep and never managed to get back up. Perhaps their souls were still there, in a comatose state.
Carefully following Fillin down the slippery steps, she resisted the urge to grab his hand. Unlike her own gloved hands, his were exposed to the bitter cold.
In a futile attempt to distract herself, she wondered aloud, "What did you chase the wolves off for?"
Even from the side, she could see his eyes hardening to forged steel. "Wild animals can't be trusted."
Maebh kicked a fallen branch and mumbled below her breath. "Says the big bad wolf himself."
When they arrived at the bank of the river, the afternoon sun had given birth to rays of lights that danced delicately across the fast-flowing water.
As if it had heard their conversation and wished to challenge the prince's claim, a brown bear sauntered from behind a bramble bush and along the pathway in a relaxed manner. Its fur the colour of seasoned acorns.
Whilst Maebh was nailed to the ground with fright, Fillin's apathetic attitude persisted.
The bear halted when it was a dozen steps removed from them and patiently waited for them to make the first move. Its teeth were bared in an agitated fashion, hanging inside a dark cave ready to maul them to death. Its paws were rooted to the snowy earth, but evidently prepared to clobber them if they made any sudden movements. But there was something peculiar about this particular bear: it seemed hesitant.
Awakening from her fearful stupor, Maebh evaluated the situation and latched onto Fillin's elbow, pulling him closer to the river where flat rocks had been positioned over its width, enabling them to hop from one to the next.
"Hi bear," she said in a calm, appeasing tone, simultaneously urging Fillin to cross the river which he surprisingly did. "Sorry to disturb you, we'll be going now."
Maebh too, started backing away, keeping an eye on the bear as she stepped onto the rocks backwards with evident difficulty. Halfway across, she lost her footing and a squeal slipped past her lips. The bear tensed its muscles at the noise, ready to pounce.
But before she could tumble into the icy current, a pair of arms caught her and hauled her to safety. Disoriented and in a haze of panic, she turned back to the bear only to see it peacefully trudging along the opposite river bank, away from them.
She heaved a relieved sigh, "Thanks, stranger."
Fillin was still holding her as he analysed her every breath. She became startlingly aware of her hand placed on the back of his neck and the lack of space between them. And would have seriously considered the preposterous possibility of annihilating said space if it weren't for his husky voice blessing her eardrums.
"Why do you call me that?"
Brought back down to earth, Maebh slid from his hold and contemplated the question.
"What? Stranger?" she could practically hear the gears churning in her own head. It had never been a deliberate decision for her mind's eye to refer to him as such. She hadn't truly dwelled on it before either. "That's just what I called you before I knew your name."
The prince nodded solemnly, the rushing water of the river underscoring the scene.
"Nepenthe." he said.
Maebh furrowed her eyebrows. "Pardon?"
His gaze shifted around, trained on anything but her. "That's what I call you."
Taken aback, Maebh's mouth almost felt too dry to speak. She smiled brightly. "What does it mean?"
He disregarded the question and started walking away from the river, leaving her embarrassingly frantic that he was going to close up on her again.
She caught up with his pace and laughed nervously. "Man, I'm still a bit shaken up about that bear."
"That wasn't a bear."
Maebh momentarily faltered. "What?"
The prince did not glance back as he enlightened her. "Callisto, daughter of Lycaon. Cursed to walk the earth in bear-form until the end of days. Her soul was banished to the night sky as Ursa Major, but her physical body remained. She guards the First Sanctuary now."
"Lycaon? As in your ancestor Lycaon? I thought he only had sons." she asked with piqued interest.
"Along with three daughters. Not much information is available about them." Fillin replied.
The shrill cry of an eagle could be heard overhead; the slow methodical beat of its wings passing lazily, unseen.
Maebh narrowed her eyes at him. "Hold on, you knew she was a mythological bear and you just let me embarrass myself?"
A hint of a smile could be detected. "I was entertained."
"Mac tíre dúr," she mumbled to herself and then remembered something. "What's the First Sanctuary?"
Not losing momentum, Fillin gestured at the structure they were walking past and Maebh had to contain a gasp.
Light shone through the wintry branches of the forest, shadowy arms stretching across age-old ruins. The trees in this area were thick and old, their roots twisting and worming over the soil.
The canopy was so dense that you could only see the occasional streak of sunlight touch the forest floor. Its thick vines were slowly taking away the last remnants of the temple that stood in the centre. What was left conquered in spite of itself, defying gravity in a precarious way. Yet, this place, kept secret by the trees, was safe.
The columns were the only thing still truly intact, everything else had worn and crumbled, covered by frozen ivy vines –their decay the only marker of time in a place of uncounted days. The site reeked of human history. And slowly but surely, nature was taking back control.
The prince held up a hand, successfully silencing Maebh before she could voice her astonishment. "Later."
She jutted out her bottom lip, pouting, but conceded begrudgingly.
The pace accelerated and soon enough, she started to recognise her surroundings. They approached the soaring fortress from behind and entered through an unfamiliar door in the rock face.
The cold accompanied them inside the draughty and dark corridor, where a passing subordinate handed a folded pair of jeans to Fillin. She realised with sinking sheepishness that the prince still wasn't wearing any trousers.
When he discerned her dawdling form behind him after he had gotten dressed, Fillin caught her completely off guard by laying a gentle hand on her lower back and guiding her further into the castle. His touch embedded itself in her memory, a scorching hot source of fire that sought to wash away her inhibitions.
"My mother is upset with you, it'd be wise to avoid her today."
Maebh looked up at him. "I'm upset with her too. Did she tell you why?"
The prince clenched his jaw. "She did."
A long pause ensued.
"I-uhh, if we ever.. you know." her face burned bright enough to outshine the sun. "I won't allow you to do.. that.. bestiality is profoundly disturbing and I will not conform to it. No amount of guilt tripping from your mam will convince me otherwise so I suggest you don't even try. It's not going to happen."
"As you wish." Fillin said.
The expression of surprise shown on the outside didn't adequately reflect what Maebh felt inside; like every neuron of her brain tried to fire in both directions at once, the best kind of paralysis. "Oh- well, yes.. good."
Her sigh was of a softly deflating kind; as if a tension had lifted yet left her with a sense of melancholia instead of relief. What was expected of her did not coincide with her own norms and values, and she dreaded what else the royal family had in store for her.
From the corner of her eyes, Maebh peeked at Fillin. He was the personification of a hand-knit jumper, irritable and itchy in comfort, sometimes even cold, yet intricate in appearance and thoughtfully composed. And she could not help but put up with him.
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