Seraphel

“Is this really alright?” Seraphel Malzareth, princess of Shaerone, asked anxiously, shutting the door behind her quietly as she pulled down the hood of her cloak. “We’re really going to go through with this?”

“Do you want to go back to the Convent already?” Her brother arched a golden brow at her and grinned. “Missing your embroidery and dancing lessons?”

“I’d rather eat a toad first,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But how is this going to work? If we’re caught, Delos is going to have our heads.”

“Then let’s not be caught,” Avaris said cheerily, putting a finger over her lips. He grinned mischievously. “They will never know. Hurry, come.”

He led her in front of a tall mirror in the corner of the room, and Seraphel studied their reflections. They were twins, both just past eighteen. She and her brother had the same eyes of molten gold and the same wavy blonde hair that had come from their mother. While her hair hung loose in waves over her shoulder, her brother had his tied in a tail at the nape of his neck. He was even fairer than she was, Seraphel noted sullenly. “How are we going to do this?”

Avaris reached into the pocket of his coat and took out a small leather pouch, placing it in her hands with a smile. “A gift. Open it.”

Seraphel looked at him suspiciously for a moment before pulling open the drawstring of the pouch.

Prologue: Prelude

He should have listened when his ma told him he shouldn’t poke his nose into things when he didn’t have to.

Sam shook, holding both hands over his mouth to smother his whimpers. His small frame was huddled on the ground behind an armchair in the far corner of the study. He sent prayers up to the Goddess with promises that he’d be good and listen to his ma from now on. His heart felt as if it would beat itself out of his small chest. He tried to make himself smaller as the arguing voices grew louder from the other side.

“—foolish to wait any longer,” the crown prince was saying, deep bass voice quivering with anger. “Why do we wait?”

“And do you think that war will solve anything?” The king said impatiently. “Do you know nothing? Delos, war when our land is facing famine goes beyond idiocy.”

“We can plunder and pillage, and enslave those Belaran dogs to farm the lands we take to feed our army. We could—”

He heard a loud thud. “I said no Delos,” the king roared. He had hit the table, Sam guessed. “I am king, not you, and I say there shall be no war. You are dismissed, son.”

Delos took a deep breath. His voice was suddenly dangerously flat. “Father, I was only—”

“Dismissed.”

There was a long silence. Sam could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the anteroom as each second went by. He didn’t even dare to breathe.

National Novel Writing Month -- Oh no!

So. I've signed up National Novel Writing Month.


What this means, is lots of coffee and very little sleep. Not to mention constant battles with a belligerent inner editor and procrastination (not to mention sleep-deprivation)!


Thus, to keep me motivated through this grim battle I will be posting my works on here to track exactly how far I've gotten. I'm looking for any and all critiques! :>


For those who are also involved, my username is Asmodea, and my twitter is AsmodeaMarele. Feel free to NaNo mail me sometime or twitter me to chat or for a word war!


Cheers! [/raises fifth cup of coffee in the day]


With love and exhaustion,
Asmodea