My Grandfather leads Prince Drake, his son and my father into a small meeting room. Leaving my grandmother with Lady Renee Drake. The room isn't particularly big. The cube box is lined on one wall with shelves full of old books and scripts. There is a large wooden desk in the centre and sat behind it a wooden chair lined with leather. My father takes a seat behind the desk and signals for Prince Hanlan and Lord Leander to sit on two smaller chairs in front of the desk. My father goes to stand next to his father, his face stone and expressionless. My grandfather sits back in the chair, his cold blue eyes scanning over the two men.  I can tell just by his expression that he does not think very highly of the King Brother. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Prince Hanlon clears his throat.

"So, Lord Baylon. Why is it you have summoned me to your humble home." Again, the prince's voice is condescending when it talks about the Baylon Mannor. "I certainly hope there isn't a problem with the warhorses. I've heard that there isn't a horse you can't break," the Prince mocks. The Baylon family have, for many years, been the masters of horses. It is the Baylons who bread the great warhorses that serve the Kings of Vivelle. They produce the best mounts in the Kingdom. My grandfather raises an eyebrow at the man and leans forward as he clasps his hands together on the desk. I don't miss the way the King Brother shrinks away slightly. Lord Leander, however, looks intrigued. I can't help but frown whenever I look at the boy. A boy who I know grows up to be the father of the monster our father has betrothed us too. This sixteen-year-old boy is going to grow up to be one of the most powerful men in Vivelle. The Councilman of War and Military. It makes my stomach churn.

"I have brought you here to discuss your endorsement," my grandfather finally says. The Prince leans back, relaxed another smug grin crossing his face.

"My endorsement?" he asks with a tilt of his head. My grandfather's face remains motionless as he watches the King Brother. Prince Hanlon lets out a loud, patronising laugh.

"You mean you want me to give my support to your boy? You want me to help you line him up to be the King Chosen?" he laughs. "Do you need reminding that the Baylon family are far from the power they once used to have. Your boy is so distantly related to the royal line that you aren't even a consideration in the King's mind!" he laughs before stopping and taking a deep breath, the amused smug smile still on his face. He shakes his head slowly before speaking again. "The Dulavelle bloodline needs to be kept as pure as possible to ensure the continuation of  God's Blood and the Gift. My son is the cousin to the young Princesses. Do I need to remind you that the Drake family has been the first family of the Dulavelle line for the last two hundred years? Not only because of the close relationship to the two houses but because of the valuable work they provide for the crown. What does the Baylon house do? Breed beasts for us to play with," he chuckles. My father stands up and walks over to the window behind him. His posture is stiff as he clasps his hands behind his back. He takes a slow deep breath as he lets the Prince continue talking. "When I married into the Drake house, I made a vow to my father-in-law to maintain the Drake's status as the Dulavelle's closest aide. Having to marry down my status and losing my Dulavelle name was humiliating, I'll admit. But I am not about to lower myself further by placing my bets on some distantly related horse fuckers. If I can't have the Dulavelle name, I am going to make sure my son can. My brother will pick my son, the cousin of his daughters, to be the King Chosen. He will ensure that the purity of the family remains and the special bond between our two houses remain intact." By the end of the Prince's rant, his face is red with anger. My Grandfather turns around slowly and glares at the red-faced fool.

"I do not need reminding of the status of the Drake's or their family history," he says, his voice monotone and cold. "Perhaps it is you who needs to be reminded of the Baylon history." The prince goes to interrupt but my grandfather holds up a hand. The man is silenced. "You need to be reminded that the first Noble to marry into the Dulavelle name was a Baylon. All those years ago when Visara Dulavelle took the throne she wed Kaiser Baylon. For hundreds of years, the Baylons stood where the Drake's do now. Of course, my ancestors got arrogant and took to partying and drinking. Those fools lost us our position and here we are," he stops. His eyes pierce straight into Prince Brother's. "I and my father before me have worked incredibly hard to build up the Baylon name again. In the last fifty years, we have gone from low nobles close to bankruptcy to one of the richest houses in Vivelle. We have gone from breeding cheep, week horses to providing the greatest warhorses that the Kingdom has to offer. In fact, our beasts are so good that all other Horse breeding nobles have been completely put out of business. We have bankrupted four strong houses to get where we are now. Not only that, with the money the King is paying for our horses, I have also brought multiple properties all across Vivelle. In fact, don't the Drakes reside in one of them?" he asks. "Ah, yes. Fanya Palace. Isn't that your main residence and the known Drake home?" The Prince pales. "What your father-in-law failed to tell you was that the Drake family fell into a little trouble about forty years back. So much so that they had to try and sell Fanya palace. My father brought it off him. However, as a gesture of goodwill, he allowed the Drakes to keep it in their name and to continue living there if they paid him a monthly fee. A fee that is still being paid by your father-in-law and will continue to be paid once he passes and you are the Lord of the house. Of course, the Drakes soon got themselves out of their financial difficulties. They offered to buy back the palace, but my father refused. Tell me, how embarrassing for the Drakes would it be if it was discovered that they don't even own the great palace they have been calling their home for the past two hundred years?" 

"Are you blackmailing me?" the Prince asks.

"Not at all. I am just informing you of the situation," my grandfather smiles coldly. He sits back down again slowly.

"The King is not going to choose someone so closely related to his daughters to be the next King Chosen. He also isn't going to pick another Drake. If he continues to favour the Drake family, it is going to anger the rest of the nobles."

"You think the King would choose your boy," he sneers.

"With your help, yes." The man scoffs.

"Do you think you are the only father with a son of the right age to approach me? Even if my son isn't chosen, why would I help you?"

"Because if my son is chosen, we will make sure that he works very closely with your boy. So close, that young Lord Leander here will practically be ruling alongside him." The Prince narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he glares at my grandfather.

"How can I trust you?" he asks.

"If you agree to this, then our houses are going to start working very closely from now on. We will be allies. Plus, even I wouldn't dare cross your father-in-law."

Rayana wakes up sweating, the visions of the meeting with her grandfather and great uncle still fresh in her mind. She races over to her desk and quickly pulls out her notebook. Her writing is messy as she scribbles everything out as quickly as she can before she forgets. Once she has written out the part, she drops the quill with shaking her hands. She runs her hands through her hair which is damp with sweat and closes her eyes. She tries to slow her breathing but it doesn't work. She feels her vision going blurry again and she lets out a whimper as she falls off her chair, the surroundings changing around her. She is taken back to her grandfathers home.

My father and Lord Leander stand together outside the office whilst their father's talk. Lord Leander holds out his hand to my father. My father, roughly three years Leanders junior, takes the boys hand nervously.

"Leander," the Lord says as he introduces himself.

"Matthias," replies my father nervously.

"Your father made quite the compelling case," Leander tells him. My father just nods shyly, not replying. "My father is an idiot," Leander sighs as he looks down at his nails, bored. Matthias looks up with wide eyes. Leander shrugs. "It is plainly obvious that my uncle isn't going to choose me. In fact, my uncle has told us multiple times that I will not be the next king. Watching my father beg him is just embarrassing," he sighs.

"Why are you telling me this?" Matthias asks. Leander smiles coldly.

"Because of all young noblemen whose fathers are trying to push to kingdom, you seem like the best choice," he shrugs.

"Really?" My father asks, looking up with a frown.

"Of course," Leander replies sarcastically. "Whether the other houses see it or not, the Baylon house is one of the oldest noble families and a lot of Baylon members have wed into the Dulavelle family in the past. Perhaps not in the past hundred years or so, but Bayon blood runs through the veins of all the Royals," he shrugs. "Though your father and grandfather have worked hard to build up the Baylon name again, even making the King reliant on them, they still at the moment are not one of the main noble houses. If the king chooses a lesser house, like yours, it will show all the other Nobles families that they are not forgotten about and that there are chances for their power to grow. It will also put the Drake's in their place. With my father being the King Brother along with all the other marriages between the Dulavelles and the Drakes, it has made my family particularly arrogant. My uncle has never been fond of Drakes, especially when his brother joined them. Putting a Baylon on the throne will really piss them off," he chuckles.

"I can't believe you talk about your family like that," Matthias gasp. Leander shrugs.

"What are they going to do about it. I'm the Drake heir," he tells the younger boy. Matthias gulps and looks away from Leander. The Lord smiles at the boy's nervousness.

"I think you and I are going to be good friends from now on. Perhaps I should suggest to our fathers you coming to stay at our palace for a while. I can teach you the ways of the court and introduce you to everyone you'll need to know." Matthias looks up and spits out the words quickly.

"You mean my father's palace," he snaps before quickly shutting his mouth and going red. "Err, sorry Lord Drake..."

Leander laughs and touches the boy's shoulder.

"No need to apologise. It is good you have a little spark in you. All this time I've been thinking you are a nervous little child. Where you are going, you will need a nastiness to you. In court, you pretend to be friends with everyone. Yet your real aim is to have information or dirt on those you claim to be friends with."

"So you are saying I need to be horrible?" my father asks with a frown.

"Yes, but not too horrible and not to everyone. To some people, like the King and his councilmen, you need to come across as charming, polite and strong. You need to present yourself as the best possible match for his daughters. To other Noble boys who are also competing to win the King's favour then you need to show your cold side. You need to let them know not to get in your way. To others, you need to appear the timid little boy that I first thought you were. That way, they will let their guards down around you," he tells him. My father nods and gulps again.

"I think I get it," he finally replies.

"Good," Leander tells him. "Because you sounded exactly like your father when you spoke back to me. Even though your father isn't the most powerful force in the court, he is one of the most feared. There will be times where you'll have to show that you are your father's son."

"What do you mean he is the most feared?" My father asks. Leander frowns at him, confused.

"I'm sure you must have heard the reputation your father and your grandfather have. The reason why the Baylon horses are so valued by the crown. It's because your father and grandfather could break even the most badly tempered horses. Including the great wild beasts that we call warhorses. Before your grandfather, the possibility of riding and taming the powerful wild animals was impossible. That is why the Baylons have risen up the chain so quickly," he shrugs before smiling. Though this smile is not like the other calm and relaxed smiles that he has been doing. This one is nervous, fearful even.

"There is a saying around the court. A Baylon man can break even the most beastly horse. He can also break any human." I shiver and see my fathers face pale.

"I guess he must have hidden that part from you," Lord Leander chuckles. My father just grimaces nervously and nods his head.

"Yes, he did," he replies as he rubs his hand on his back, reminding me of the visions I had seen of my grandfather whipping my father in the dungeons of their manor.

Rayana wakes from her vision and pulls herself quickly up to her desk again as she begins another page of frantic writing. Once she is done, she throws the book off to the side and clutches at her sweaty head. Her breathing is fast as clouds fill her visions and her head pounds. She lets out a whimper and tears begin to fall down her face. The feeling of something pulling at her mind makes her sob harder. It is as though she is being forced out of her own body.

"Just Stop!" She screams, standing up and throwing everything off her desk before slamming her hands on the wood. The pull comes again and she wobbles on her feet, falling back. She misses the chair and falls onto the ground. The pain of her back hitting the stone momentarily stops the pulling. She lets out another sob as she slowly sits up, cradling her legs. However, the pulling starts again and a burning wave of pain rushes through her mind as she tries to resist being called back to her visions. It doesn't work and she finds herself switching between so many visions and people almost all at once. So many voices fill her mind. Images flash in front of her eyes. Changing so fast that it begins to burn her eyes. As she struggles to process all the noise, she begins to scream as she clutches at her head and hair. Rayana feels a sudden pain against her head. This one different. It comes from the outside instead of within her own mind. Then, the visions vanish and are replaced with black.

Rayana wakes up in her bed. Her head aches, but it is a different pain. She frowns, feeling a bump on the back of her head. Did someone hit her? She stands up slowly, feeling slightly wobbly.

She needs to find her sisters and find out what is going on.

She exits the room once she is able to walk on her bed a little easier. In a daze, she wanders through the halls of the castle, making her way toward Fallon's room. After a few moments, she stops. She notices some of the painting are different on the walls. A maid rushes over to her and passes her some bed sheets.

"Here, take this to the queen," she tells Rayana. Rayana frowns as the woman dumps the clothes into her arms and takes off down the hall in a hurry.

"What?" she whispers as she looks down. Her eyes widen as she realises she is wearing the clothing that all the handmaidens of the queens wear. She can't be in a vision surely. No one can see her in a vision. Her heart races in her chest as fear pulses through her. She slowly begins to walk toward to abandoned part of the castle. As she suspected, the abandoned part of the castle is not abandoned at all. She gulps and makes her way to a particular room. A room that has spent too many years untouched and collecting dust. She opens the door slowly. Her mouth dries and her hands shake. When she sees the spectacular room, her eyes widen. Gone are the heaps of broken furniture and the sheets that cover them. Instead, a grand four-poster sits in the centre of the room. Furnished with the finest blue silk covers and grey cushions. Matching white wood furniture lines to walls and spectacular, detailed tapestries hang from the walls. Her eyes then fall on a woman sitting at her dressing table. Her long silky ginger hair falls down her back and a beautiful golden crown sits on her head.

Upon Rayana's entrance, the woman turns around. Rayana can only stare at the crown. Three bands of gold jaggedly wrap around each other like branches of a tree. Decorating the branches are golden leaves so intricate that they could be mistaken for being real. Dotted around the golden twigs are little emeralds, pears and sparkling white diamonds. They are only small and delicate, but the way they sparkle is enchanting. The front of the crown is really special. The three vines wrap around one large, glittering diamond. It is Visara's crown. The Crown that has not been seen since the Mad Queen's execution. The woman who wears looks at Rayana with a frown. Rayana looks into her brown eyes.

"Who are you?" Rayana asks with a hoarse voice. The woman stands up slowly.

"I am Queen Orianna, who are you?" the woman asks coldly as she approaches Rayana. Rayana drops the sheets in shock before everything changes in front of her again.

She sits up in her bed for the second time. Fallon sits beside her, watching nervously as Rayana takes deep breaths.

"What is going on, Ray?" Fallon asks. "I heard you shouting and came to see what was wrong. I couldn't get you to shut up. You didn't even notice me there. I had to knock you out before any of the staff came snooping," she says. Rayana looks at her older sister with wide, scared eyes as she thinks back to her last vision. Of how a maid actually spotted her. She thinks of the woman wearing Visara's crown.

"I am Queen Orianna," she had said.

Rayana gulps.

"Fallon," she finally whispers. "I think I'm going mad,"