Situated on the side of a large, shallow blue lake, Foxmoor was normally a populous city. It spread out like a shining gem on the landscape. It was the capital of Anonta. Wooden rooftops rose up from the paved streets. Tall walls made of pale granite kept in most of the city, but as it has grown, houses and streets had grown up all around the walls. Farther down on the lakeside, near the river, was a town which controlled the ships that went up and down the river to the coast

A castle rose up on the hill the city curved around. It was a dark grey granite. Bright banners flew on the castle walls. There were orange flags, with the black outline of a fox's body. There were other banners too. A dark blue raven flew on some banners. Another had a brown water snake on a lake water blue banner.

Few people were walking around the city. There was silence for the most part. Carts carried bodies out of the three different gates to the city. There had been a plague. It had killed nearly half the city, and had been a horrible experience. But now it was slowing down. Fewer people were being infected. The empty marketplaces would soon be filled again as soon as merchants thought it safe to return.

But the still healthy citizens were not that concerned about the marketplaces. They looked to the castle. For, one of the most recent people to come down with the plague was the worst news. The King was dying.

Prince Torrac sat on the throne, cursing his lot. He was only twenty five years old. With his mother's dark brown hair and nearly black eyes, Torrac wasn't considered that attractive to most nobility. Lighter shades of hair and eye color were considered signs of royal blood. His father had bright yellow hair and sea blue eyes, but his mother had been a princess from the southern country of Ordum, which boasted of only dark hair and eyes. The King of Ordum looked like a peasant of Anonta. Torrac had inherited his father's paler skin.

His father used to be robust and hearty. Torrac had seen him just that morning. The man had been a shade of his former self. His skin hanging off his bones when he used to be bulging with muscle. Pustules covered his pale skin. Gone was the confident look of a king, replaced with a look of someone who knew he didn't have much time left.

The Prince had came in to say his goodbyes. His father had told Torrac he must take the crown. It had not surprised Torrac much, but he was still upset.

The King had two sons. Prince Torrac was the younger of the two. Prince Voss was the first born son. But he had not been seen in years. Prince Voss had sailed off to the Sharktooth islands. They were a chain of islands, full of jungles and mysterious natives. He had gone off to claim them for the Kingdom, but after five years, there had been no sign of the Voss or even his ships.

Prince Torrac was the less outgoing of the two princes. He preferred animals to people. Even as Torrac sat on the throne, his best friend sat at his feet. Balgair looked up with his yellow, slitted eyes. His pointed ears flicked around curiously. The red fox sniffed Torrac, and found nothing of interest. Balgair yawned, showing off his sharp teeth. He sunk down on the floor, and stretched out his black paws. Torrac sighed, and reached down to pet his best friend's brilliant orange head. He scratched the fox's snowy throat, and Balgair turned over on his belly. The Prince smiled.

Balgair made a contented noise.

Prince Torrac was not a kingly person. Rarely had he ever had to deal with even simple duties of kingship. The steward, Gregory, would of course help him, but this was just all so much. He had been hoping for years his brother Voss would come back. Now, Torrac was going to have to take on the burden of ruling Anonta.

As he thought of all that was happening, the doors to the throne room opened. Belgair snapped his head up, and curled up his tail defensively. He bared his teeth.

The men that approached the throne was familiar to Prince Torrac. Captain Luke Duggan was the leader of Anonta's military forces. He had been infected with the plague, but he had made a recovery from it, one of the few people that had. The other men were the steward, Gregory Lucland, and one of the more prominent nobles, Andrew Ravenwood. He held the lands around his namesake, Ravenwood. It provided most of the city's wood and even held two gold mines underneath the dark trees of the forest. Abnormally large ravens lived in the forest, also helping to the name. The only city in the woods, Raven's Tree, had been isolated from the plague. Andrew had recently come to Foxmoor, and as he approached Prince Torrac, he had a smug grin on his face. Torrac was of the Foxfur lineage, and the Foxfurs had contested with the Ravenwoods.

"Your Highness..." Gregory spoke first. He seemed very embarrassed over something.

Prince Torrac scowled. Belgair growled.

"Yes?" The Prince asked. Lord Ravenwood strode forward.

"Let me be the first to give you my condolences...Your father passed just five minutes ago."

Torrac lowered his head mournfully. His father was gone forever. His mother had passed after giving birth to Torrac and then his brother disappeared. Now his father was gone. It almost seemed unreal. His brother was not dead, that Torrac felt in all his heart.

Lord Ravenwood cleared his throat, and Torrac looked up. Ravenwood continued, "By right, you are now King of Anonta. But there is a...slight problem. You have no wife."

Prince Torrac narrowed his eyes. This was what Ravenwood was so smug about. Torrac needed a wife, and eventually an heir. If he didn't get a queen, he would have to forfeit the throne. And then Ravenwood could fight the other nobles for it. He would most likely win.

Captain Luke Duggan coughed. "And even worse, the nobility has suffered greatly from the plague. There is very few noblewomen of unmarried status that are of age. You will have to go to the outer-lying provinces of Anonta. The Duke Province, Frost Province, Hearth Province, and the Shining Province all have worthy candidates."

Andrew Ravenwood laughed uproariously. "Those poorly districts? The Frost Province is in the middle of the mountains. Who knows what those people are like. And the Hearth Province is made up of wheat fields, marshes, and our unpopulated eastern coast. Those people don't have enough money for a golden candlestick. I personally think my daughter is perfect for you, my prince...I mean King, of course."

Torrac should have known. Lord Ravenwood had a daughter, one that was vain and as ambitious as her father. If Torrac married her, he probably would not last a year. Someone like Liliana Ravenwood are known to kill off their husbands.

He stood up. Belgair curled around one of his legs and made a yelping sound. Torrac went down the steps that led to the throne, and walked past all three men. Belgair trotted behind his friend, biting at the man's boots.

"I will take a tour of all the provinces with eligible women, and make my decision."

2: Chapter 2

Safaya ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Her breath came almost as gasps. It was summer, and the sun shone brightly overhead. Sweat covered the young girl's skin.

The verdant forest that Safaya ran through was thick and full of life. Silver day owls flew in a flock. They were looking for the tiny mice that lived in sweet willow moss that hung from the high tree limbs. Spotted deer looked up in shock as Safaya ran past them. Safaya briefly stopped at the small pond for a drink. Young frogs hopped through the water. Safaya cupped her hands in the water, and raised them to her lips. After she drank her fill, she stood up. Taking a deep breath, Safaya sprinted off.

After a while, the forest thinned. Certain trees had paint and ribbons on their trunks. Loose branches and flat tree stumps showed signs of recent logging. Safaya slowed down to a brisk walk. She stepped over an abandoned saw. It looked broken, which would explain why it was left. She left behind the logging and approached the long expanse of golden swathes of wheat. Green fields of melons, onions, carrots, and other vegetables were in large circles near the town, but the wheat fields covered the land almost as far as the eye could see. They swayed in the wind, making the fields look like lakes of golden water. Dark spots in the field would be people.

In the distance, was Hearthfire, where Safaya lived. The wood and stone of the large mansion was not that impressionable, but what really made it show up in the landscape was the bright yellow, orange and red roof tiles. They gleamed almost like fire. It was just a special type of clay that could be found in the marshes near the coast, a day's ride away. Around Hearthfire, was buildings like the lumber-mill, the guard barracks, and other utility buildings.

Safaya made her way to the dirt roads that went through the wheat fields. It smelled like fresh dirt, and old manure. The dirt roads had mud tracks in them, and Safaya's boots were soon crusted with mud. Going the opposite direction of Safaya, a cow was being led by a farmer. He nodded to Safaya. All of the farmers knew her. Safaya knew most by face, if not by name.

The sky was turning orange and red as the sun was slowly going down. It was almost dinner time. Smoke had started to drift out of the houses in town. No doubt, the tavern would be filling up with farmers looking for a drink after a long day of work.

By comparison, Safaya had been having a nice restful day. She didn't have to go to class, or listen to her mother complain about how boyish the girl acted. Her sister, Hannah, always called Safaya a pig that walked on two feet. Every time she would go out, her clothes would get coated in dirt and the servants never wanted to deal with it. And Safaya ate with less than perfect manners. She liked to use her hands.

Her father was fine with the way she acted. He had no sons, and Safaya was more interested in how to deal with everyday problems in the province. She liked to tally up how many crops had been harvested that day. According to the market, tomatoes, garlic and onions were very profitable. Only nobles ate garlic and onions, despite their bad odor. Fruits were always expensive. Safaya loved to collect wild strawberries. She liked guessing the high and low of how much the crops went for in the various provinces.

The plague that had been affecting the King's Province, Shining Province, and Kor's Anvil Province had affected even Hearth Province. Not a lot of merchants had come by to get their wheat shipments. And Kor's Anvil, where most manufactured and metal goods came from, had not shipped out even a nail or horseshoe. The Hearth Province had not been affected at all by the plague. They were cut off from the rest of the kingdom, separated by marshes and the low Slumbering Hills that went past the Bierf river, which ran from the King's Lake, where the capital Foxmoor sat. It was about two week's travel by caravan to Foxmoor.

Just then, Safaya saw a rider riding up the main road up to her home. She wondered what that was about. She quickened her pace a bit. Not quite a run. She would get there eventually. If her father didn't tell her what was going on, her uncle would. Uncle Jack was not her real uncle, but he was an old friend of her father's. He told her stories of wars in the Shadowed Badlands, a miserable desert with deadly animals, harsh climates, and cannibals. He spoke of how Frost Province was taken in the name of the King after killing off the last of the large brutish ogres.

Safaya's sister didn't like listening to Uncle Jack's stories. Their mother always wanted Safaya to pay attention to more womanly past-times. Like weaving or cooking. Safaya knew how to cook squirrel, but she didn't think that was what their mother had in mind.

As Safaya approached her home, a scent drifted from the kitchens. Safaya smelled stewed cashew carrots, and baking honey bread. She smiled. Cashew carrots were her favorite.

When she came up to her home, she saw the rider's horse. It was being taken care of by a stable boy. When Safaya looked at the saddle, there was the royal crest of the king sewn onto the saddle. A royal courier? Safaya was even more curious.

She went inside through the kitchens, where her mother would not berate her on the state of her clothes. She took a slice of fresh honey bread from one of the servants, and went to her bedroom as fast as possible. Grabbing the first clean clothes she could get, Safaya switched out. She then hurried down to the main entry way. Animal heads were mounted on the walls. Bears, wolves and deers were representatives of her father's hunts.

As Safaya went down the right hall stairway, she stopped. Her father was speaking to the courier. It looked like he had just got back from a hunt. His fox fur mantle was draped over one shoulder, and a quiver of arrows was still sitting on his back.

Safaya backed away, and hid behind a column.

"Prince Torrac is visiting? Well, of course we will prepare for his visit. It's not every day a royal comes by. A grand feast will be made in his honor. Shall I inquire as to the nature of his visit?"

The young courier looked rather nervous. His face was still rather boyish, so Safaya figured that he was newly appointed. This might be his first trip as courier.

"His Majesty is touring all of the districts. He is in need of a queen, and is meeting all eligible women that are qualified."

Safaya's father frowned in confusion. He folded his arms.

"I'm sorry. There are only a few noblewomen here. Two of my sisters are as of yet unmarried and one is recently widowed, but they would be too old for the prince. That only leaves my daughters, and my widowed sister's daughter."

The courier shrugged. "The plague has hit Foxmoor deeply. The Prince is looking for any worthy candidate. He has already rejected the girls most of the Provinces."

Safaya saw her father bewildered. "What about the Serpent's Tail Province? That is where all of the nobles prefer to live. I even have a winter home there."

Safaya knew that. Serpent's Tail was a peninsula down south. It had the most beautiful houses there, and it was always warm. The beaches were brilliant white, while the coast of the Hearth Province was full of marshes, and rather dreary. Safaya loved playing in the ocean down in the Serpent's Tail.

Obviously not expecting so many questions, the courier grew even more nervous.

"Why...He didn't find any of them too impressive," The courier admitted.

Safaya knew of a couple of distant cousins that lived there. They were rather spoiled. One screamed when she saw Safaya playing in the beach sand, saying how filthy it was. The girl figured that any prince would want a spoiled brat. Princes were rather spoiled, weren't they? Safaya looked at her father's reaction. He looked thoughtful.

"Let us hope that he finds a woman he likes. I know I would be miserable if I didn't like my wife."

"Like?"

Safaya, her father, and the courier looked up to the voice. Safaya's mother stood on the left hall stairwell, a hand on her hip. Safaya's father smirked.

"You know what I meant."

He turned to the courier. "Kyle, was it? Go ask a servant to show you to a guest room. Dinner will be soon, and I would be most pleased if you attended. For me, I am about to get a scolding from my wife."

The courier left, as did Safaya. She didn't feel like watching her mother scold her father, and then start kissing. Safaya went to the kitchen, and tried to covince the head chef to give her more honey bread. He told her if she wanted any more, she would have to wait for dinner. But as she left, she managed to steal a piece. And a spoonful of cashew carrots.

3: Chapter 3

The Hearth Province was bustling with activity. Lord Hearthfire, Safaya's father, gave everyone several hours a day off. Instead of the normal sunrise to sunset hours, all of the farmers had half the day off. The town was cleaned up, taking away refuse to the compost heaps out of town and the roads dusted off. Farmers were having their best clothes cleaned, and women were taking out dresses that were only worn on special occasions like weddings and holidays. Hearth Province was being visited by Prince Torrac, soon to be King Torrac. Hearth Province was just a farming province. They produced most of the food that the King ate back in Foxmoor, but rarely were they visited by anyone from there besides the tax collectors. If Lord Hearthfire had wanted to, he could just live in the Serpent's Tail with his family and just have a steward take care of the province. But he wasn't like that. Sometimes, he would go out and actually help the farmers.

With the imminent arrival of the Prince, Lord Hearthfire did not go outside for several days. He was busy making preparations. The large dining room needed to be cleaned and decorated. It was rarely used for dining. The table was covered in old newspapers usually. Now, it was cleaned up and covered it in white cloth. Silver and gold plates engraved with farming scenes were set down. Simple cutlery were set on old silk napkins. Silver goblets were taken out of storage, and polished until they gleamed.

Lady Hearthfire was preparing her daughters. Hannah had no trouble finding herself a dress, shoes, and jewelry to wear for dinner that night, when Prince Torrac would arrive. But Safaya couldn't find any of her clothing that her mother approved.

They were in Safaya's room, looking over all of her clothes. Most were stained permanently with mud. She didn't have any shoes, only boots for hiking, riding, and rainy weather. Safaya's mother was frustrated, but she was convinced to let Safaya wear her cleanest riding boots. Since Safaya didn't have any dresses either, her mother took one of her sisters. It was a plain green dress, but even that Safaya balked at. Her mother forced her into it, pulling it over her head.

"Come on, Safaya. Don't you want to look your best for the prince?"

"No. Why would I?" Safaya demanded. Her mother picked up a brush, and started ripping out the tangles in the girl's hair. Safaya grunted in pain with each tug.

"Because. Prince Torrac is looking for a wife. And no man here would marry you."

Safaya rolled her eyes, and winced as her mother pulled at a more sensitive tangle of hair. "Thanks for confidence, Mother."

Her mother smiled. "I try my best. But you look just fine. A bit simple, but not bad. Would it be too much to have you wear a necklace. Maybe let me style your hair?"

Safaya scowled. "No."

That caused her mother to sigh. She put down the brush after smoothing out all of her daughter's hair. Safaya looked in her bronze mirror. Her long golden hair draped over one shoulder. A few strands fell in her face, and she placed them behind her ear.

"Can I go outside?"

Her mother narrowed her eyes. "As long as you don't get anything dirty."

Safaya smiled, and ran out of the room. She went down the main hall, and out the doors. Being more conscious of her dress, Safaya decided not to take a walk in the forest. She would go to the wheat fields. But before she could do that, she saw a carriage approaching Hearthfire. She saw horses, with gleaming armor strapped over their bodies. The people sitting on them were also armored. Safaya had never seen armor before, but she knew what it was. The shine of the metal was very intimidating, and reassuring at the same time.

Uncle Jack limped over to her. He was dressed up nicely, with soft leather bracers, a woolen mantle with patterns sewn in red thread. His boots were hardened leather dyed a shiny black. On his tunic was the Hearth Province's emblem, an orange and gold flame.

Serenity smiled at the man. "Hello, Uncle Jack."

He looked at her in surprise. "Oh! Hello there, sweetie. Enjoying the fresh air?"

"Yes, sir. Look, the prince is coming."

The man suddenly spat on the ground, making Safaya giggle. He scratched his beard fiercely. Safaya could smell the odor of alcohol on his breath.

"Aye, I see that. Bit too young to be king, don't ya think?"

Safaya shrugged. "I suppose. As long as he doesn't waste money on jousting tournaments, parties, and alcohol."

Uncle Jack looked at her, and grinned. "Why, ain't you the responsible one? I bet you would pinch pennies, wouldn't ya?"

"Father taught me how to manage money. So I guess so. Why pay for stuff you don't need?"

The man raised his hand to ruffle her hair, but then changed his mind.

"Can't be messing up your hair. You need to look pretty tonight, and need all the help you can get."

Safaya pushed her Uncle playfully. "You are so mean."

He pulled out a bottle from underneath his cloak. He pulled out the cork, and drank.

"Welp...I am off to taste the wine. Make sure it is all right for our Highness." He patted her on the shoulder instead of her head, and staggered off. Safaya doubted he wanted to taste the wine because of the prince's arrival.

Safaya watched the carriage and soldiers approaching. They went to the stables, where every stable-hand was ready. They took the horses as soon as the soldiers dismounted. The carriage came to a stop. It was made of dark wood, with curtains on the glassed windows to give the rider privacy. On the top, luggage and supplies were piled up and roped down. There was another supply wagon behind it, probably carrying food for the soldiers.

A soldier went up to the carriage, and opened the door. Safaya had expected to see Prince Torrac get out, but instead a fox hopped out and landed softly on the ground. It was a bright orange, with a thin snout and long legs. It's throat and and belly were snowy white. His bushy tail whipped back and forth. The fox sniffed around and looked over at Safaya. She stared at it. The fox suddenly trotted over to her, and he made a yipping sound.

"Aw...Hello there," Safaya crooned. Animals loved her. When she was younger, she would always bring home baby raccoons, birds, and even once a bear cub. Her mother had forbidden her from bringing anymore animals to the house after the bear cub incident.

The fox looked up at her with his bright yellow eyes. Despite her mother telling her not to get the dress dirty, Safaya knelt down. She picked up the fox, and cradled him. The fox rubbed his head against her neck, and then sniffed her arm. He licked her, and then squirmed in the girl's arms. He rolled over so he was belly up, and he laid his head back, making a contented growl.

When Safaya looked up, one of the soldiers was watching her. When their eyes met, he smiled. He was rather tall, with an average build. His hair was dark as dirt. She couldn't tell his eye color from where she stood. But he spoke to another soldier, whose armor was more decorated than the soldiers. He seemed to be a higher rank, and he nodded to the dark-haired soldier. Then, to Safaya's surprise, the soldier started walking toward her. Safaya quickly but carefully put the fox down, and stroked his head. Then she ran off, refusing to look back.

4: Chapter 4

Prince Torrac had been stunned at first. Belgair had just trotted up to the young girl, and acted like a curious puppy. And the girl had pet the fox, and picked him up. No girl Torrac had visited came close to getting Belgair's approval. And they had all been rather disgusted by the fox. Belgair had been having a worse time than Torrac had been. At least Torrac was given wine and good food by the girls' fathers and only had to reject every single on of them. Belgair was only given screams, kicks, and sounds of disgust. It had been a difficult journey for both of them.

When the girl had fled before he could say anything, Torrac had been surprised. He wondered what the girl's name was. She had been wearing a nice green dress, if a bit plain. No sign of jewelry, and her hair had been combed, but not styled at all. As Belgair returned to his master, he make a yipping sound. Torrac reached down, and scratched the fox behind his ears. Belgair made an almost purring sound. He bit Torrac's fingers affectionately, and curled his tail around the man's leg.

Corporal Taylor cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, We should go see Lord Hearthfire. They havve prepared a wonderful dinner I heard, made from their best crops."

Torrac nodded. "All right. Can Belgair come?"

The corporal, who was the same age as the prince, shrugged.

"As long as he does not terrify anyone. Or repeat the incident with the the soup."

Torrac looked down at the fox. Belgair gave him an innocent look, swishing his tail back and forth. He whined, and stood up on his hind legs, planting his front feet on Torrac's leg. The fox tilted his head.

The prince turned toward the corporal. "Don't worry. I think he learned his lesson."

With that, the corporal didn't argue. They went inside. Belgair trotted at Torrac's feet. They went into the foyer of the Hearthfire mansion, and were greeted by Lady Hearthfire. She was beautiful, wearing a silver dress with sweeping sleeves, and silken ribbons. Prince Torrac thought she looked how his mother might have looked like. It was very comforting.

She curtsied, and held out a soft hand. "Prince Torrac, welcome to the Hearth Province and my home. I hope you enjoy your stay here."

The prince took her hand and kissed it as he was taught. He bowed slightly. "Thank you, my lady. I am sure I will find everything I need here. Your home is lovely. A bit more comforting than my castle."

Lady Hearthfire smiled. "I'm sure. But castles aren't supposed to be comfortable."

"True...Must I say, you are very lovely. Lord Hearthfire must be a very happy man."

The lady nodded graciously. "Yes, though sometimes he's too busy to know how happy he is. Right now, he's busy setting up tonight's dinner. Have you any specific requests?"

Prince Torrac shook his head. "No. I am sure everything will be delicious. And my fox will enjoy any meat that you are serving."

Lady Hearthfire's face fell. She coughed. "Your...fox is coming to dinner?"

Belgair went out from behind the prince's feet, and yipped amiably at the lady. Torrac could tell that she was resisting the urge to shudder. He sighed. It was like this everywhere.

"It will be a delight to have your pet come to dinner."

Torrac gave her an amused but respectful look. "He's not my pet, dear lady. He is my best friend and adviser."

The lady was courteous enough to incline her head. "Of course. And down to business. My two daughters and my niece are all a bit younger than you, Your Highness, but they are all very beautiful."

Prince Torrac had seen a lot of beautiful girls on the trip. Some had been not so pretty, but very kind. Not a single one had impressed Belgair. The fox was very stubborn. But he had liked that one girl, just minutes ago. Torrac wondered if she was one of Lady Hearthfire's daughters.

 

Safaya finally came back at dinner time, using the kitchen entrance. She dusted off the worst of the dirt, and washed her hands. She fluffed her hair enough to not look so haggard. She was a little sweaty, but she quickly stole into her sister's room for some perfume. She only put a little on. After that, she made her way to the dining room.

Everyone was already there, but Safaya was able to sneak in easily enough. She picked a free chair, not really caring who was going to sit next to her. When the servants said they could sit down, Safaya did so. She then looked at her companions.

One was her mother, and the other was the soldier. Safaya stared at him. Instead of armor, the man wore a fine tunic and cloak trimmed with white fur. He was cleaned and smelled of rich oils. The soldier seemed just as surprised as she did when he saw that she sat next to him.

"Hello, dear lady. Forgive me for frightened you before."

Safaya said nothing. His soft brown eyes looked sincere and genuinely apologetic. Before the girl could say something, something moved onto her legs. She looked down. The fox was standing on her dress skirt. His tail swished around, and his mouth was open in almost a smile. The fox made a soft whine. He laid his head on her knee, looking up sadly with his yellow eyes.

"His name is Belgair. And you are the only girl he's ever shown to like. Impressive."

Safaya gave a small smile. That wasn't shocking. Animals liked her. Belgair hopped into her lap, and bit her hand. The man laughed. The servants filled their

"That means he's hungry. As am I? Aren't you, Lady Heathfire?" The man asked, looking over to Safaya's mother. The girl glanced at her mother. She was looking at the two with a stunned look.

"What's wrong mother?" Safaya asked. Across the table, her sister Hannah was looking at Safaya with restrained outrage. Just then, Safaya's father came in. He picked up a glass of wine, and smiled warmly. Safaya wondered if the prince was coming in after him.

"It pleases me greatly to have such an esteemed visitor to this humble province. Prince Torrac. Soon to be King. My condolences on his recent loss of his father. My own father passed three years ago. It still gives me heartache. Prince Torrac, please stand."

To Safaya's surprise and horror, the man she thought was just a weird soldier with a pet fox, stood up. He took up his own wine glass. Safaya slouched down in her chair. She had been talking to the prince. And he had been impressed with her. She looked down at Belgair. The fox looked downright smug. She shoved him off her lap, and he yipped as he hit the floor. The fox sat up, and gave her an evil glare.