Kiora

Kiora is yanked up onto her feet, her arms clasped tightly behind her. She winces uncomfortably as the guards' secure thick cuffs around her wrists. They tighten them, and Kiora grimaces as they catch her skin.

None of the pain rids her of the satisfaction that spreads through her. The smile remains on her face, especially as she watches the King being awkwardly helped up by his guards. He shoves them off and then wipes the blood off his nose with the back of his sleeve.

He glares at her and spits out blood onto the floor.

"How dare you," he begins.

"What?" Kiora asks calmly, "Lay a hand on you in a way that you did not consent to?"

Kiora raises an eyebrow and stares him down. "So, it is okay for you to mutilate me, to cut parts of me off, but it isn't okay for me to give you a slight tap?"

The king licks his lips slowly, his stare intense. "I am a king," he says slowly.

"Not. Mine," Kiora replies, her voice a low growl.

"Fine. If that is how you want to play, you can spend the next two days in the dungeons," he tells her. "I tried to be nice, and accommodating, but you clearly don't want my hospitality."

"You are my kidnapper, King. I want nothing from you but for you to let me go home."

The king smirks and shakes his head.

"Not going to happen," he explains and steps closer to her. He leans over and whispers into her ear. "In two days' time, you'll belong to The Dragon Emperor. You're lucky I'm being so lenient. If you were to pull that little stunt, he'd feed you to his dragons." He pauses to laugh. "You really should have made the most of your time here. After these two days, you will never set foot in the Second Realm again. Don't think your High Priestess's threats of Winter's wrath scared me. You and your silly little priestesses have no power here and you never will. "

Kiora doesn't reply. She just stares at him with a clenched jaw, her eyes burning with hatred.

"Take her," he orders his guards.

"Enough!" A voice shouts from behind them. The King freezes and lets out a long sigh of frustration.

"What do you want, Larissa?" He asks through gritted teeth.

A woman comes into view, storming through the King's guard with fiery fury. She comes to a stop between the king and Kiora. She looks between the two of them, her dark green eyes wide. Then, her mouth falls open.

"It's true then," she says finally, her head snapping to face the king. "Please, Lucas, please tell me this isn't who I think it is."

The king laughs. "You all thought me mad when I told you my plans to seek out a priestess. You said it would be an impossible task. Well, here one is, standing before you."

The woman pales and shakes her head. "No, Lucas, you fool," she whispers. "What have you done?"

"I have found a gift for the Emperor that will make him leave us alone. I've done what no king of Orthanya has done."

"At what cost?" the woman pleads. The King scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"You know I don't believe in all your prophecy, religious bullshit, Larissa," he hisses.

Larissa shakes her head. "You're a fool, Lucas," she says lowly and turns to the guards. She clicks at them impatiently.

"Let the poor girl go, for goodness sake," she orders.

"Wait-"

"I'm taking her under my charge," Larissa continues, cutting the King off. Kiora raises her eyebrows in surprise as the guards do as she says. The King groans in frustration.

"I am the king, Larissa. Not you."

Larissa spins around to face him. As she steps closer to him, his eyes widen a little. He tries not to cower as she gets into his personal space. When her perfectly groomed finger pokes him harshly in the chest, he flinches.

"You have done enough damage as it is," she snarls, her voice low and dangerous. "As usual, I have to try and clean up your mess. I have never been more ashamed to call you my brother than I am today."

The king's eyes drop down, not meeting hers. She turns quickly, hitting him with some of the tendrils of her red hair. She straightens the corset of her cream dress and puts on a charming smile.

"Ladies," she begins, gesturing to the maids who brought Kiora in, "none of you are welcome on these grounds."

"Princess I-"

"Enough, Morvaine," the Princess snaps, "you have disappointed me greatly today. To revel in mutilating and torturing another being is beyond forgiveness. Pack up your belongings and leave. The guards will escort you out. I refuse to have such cruel people working in my castle."

"With respect, princess. This isn't your castle," Morvaine replies through gritted teeth. The Princess raises a perfectly groomed red eyebrow and stares at the woman with such an intense glare that even Kiora shudders.

Morvaine pales and nods her head. "Yes princess, I'm sorry princess," the woman says quickly and scuttles away with the other girls. The Princess smirks and turns to Kiora.

"My," she says softly, "you do look ridiculous. Come, let's get you sorted."

Kiora doesn't know how to react as her restraints are taken off and she is released from the grips of the guards. She rubs her sore wrists and peaks back at the king, waiting for him to say something to stop her. He doesn't even look her way. Instead, his face has gone a deep red colour.

"Get out. Everyone get out!" he shouts as he spots Kiora staring.

"Come," Larissa says calmly and gestures for Kiora to follow him. "You don't want to be here when he throws one of his tantrums."

Kiora nods her head and starts hobbling awkwardly after Larissa, the giant skirts of the dress getting in her way.

"I am so sorry," Larissa says as the two enter the corridor.

"I am just glad that someone in this palace seems to have some compassion," Kiora replies. "Now, if you could help me change and then get the portal weaver for me, I can go home and we can all forget about this mess."

Larissa laughs but there is no humour to it. "My influence over my brother doesn't extend that far, I'm afraid. I may be able to reprimand him for his stupid little mistakes, but to overrule him on something like this would have me imprisoned for treason, I'm afraid."

Kiora sighs with disappointment.

"I really am sorry, Priestess," Larissa sighs. "I wish I could have gotten to you sooner and put a stop to what Morvaine was doing. When I heard what was happening, it was already too late."

"How did you find out?" Kiora asks curiously.

"One of the maids snuck out and told me. My brother may try and keep things from me, but I always find out one way or another. You may have noticed he's not that smart," she winks. Kiora can't help but laugh. "Oh, and I like what you did to his face," Larissa continues with a grin.

"I'm not a violent person," Kiora sighs and rubs her hand. Already this place is changing her.

"I know," Larissa smiles softly. "But sometimes, extreme circumstances require extreme reactions."

Kiora nods her head. "I suppose they do," she sighs.

"You're going to need to remember that where you're going," Larissa replies.

"Why?" Kiora asks.

Larissa sighs and stops, turning to face Kiora.

"That wide, doe-eyed look is going to make you an easy target."

Kiora's eyes widen and she gulps, nervously.

"Yes, exactly that," Larissa says. "You're going to join the emperor's harem. You'll be competing for his attention with multiple other women who are all vying to be his favourite. If they sense weakness, they will pounce."

"I'm not weak," Kiora argues. "I just don't find my strength from harming and intimidating others."

"Oh, I understand," Larissa says, "I am not saying you're weak, Princess. Forgive me. What I am trying to say is that your kindness can be mistaken for weakness."

"I have been alive for two hundred and fifty years," Kiora says, her eyes going distant. "Today has been the first time I have learned such a lesson. I saved your brother, many winters ago. I found him, a child lost in the storm and close to death. I guided him to safety. I didn't do it for power, or wealth. I did it because a child was in need. Today, that child threatened to kill my sisters, stole me from my home, had me mutilated, and now prepares to sell me to a monster in another realm. So no, princess, I shall not be so sparing with my kindness anymore."

"Well, that's a good start," she says and the two start walking once more. They stay in silence for a few moments. Kiora closely examines the princess. She is a beauty, with smooth, creamy skin, full pink lips, and deep, forest-green eyes. Her hair falls down her back in a spectacular mass of tight, dark ginger curls.

"Thank you," the princess says, her voice quieter. "I know you're regretting it now, but thank you for saving him. He may be a massive arsehole, but he is still my little brother."

Kiora smiles weakly. "You're welcome," she says in a small voice.

***

The two sit in silence as the princess slowly untangles Kiora's hair from the extreme mass of braids and twists. As she does that, Kiora wipes away all of the makeup they had painted on her face, using a soft, damp cloth.

"I managed to salvage the dress, jewellery, and cloak you arrived in," the princess says. "I will have it carefully washed and packed in a trunk for you."

"Thank you," Kiora whispers and puts down the cloth.

"We don't have dresses anywhere near as beautiful here, but I'll try and find you something close to what you're used to wearing."

"If you can get me the right materials in time, I may be able to craft some myself. It would give me something to do over the next two days," Kiora sighs.

"I can do that," she agrees. Kiora closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh. That heavy ache settles in her stomach again. She may be able to make some beautiful dresses, but they won't have the same magic as the ones she made back in the temple. Her eyes sting as she thinks about her sisters and the High Priestess. To keep herself from crying, she picks at her fingers awkwardly.

"What will the harem be like?" Kiora asks, her voice tiny.

"Well," the princess begins, "it depends on how taken by you the emperor is. The Dragon Emperor's harem is his collection of beautiful and unique things."

Kiora grimaces, feeling a little sick at the thought of just being some sort of twisted prize in his collection.

"I know," the princess chuckles. "It's all about power, unfortunately. Having an array of the most beautiful women by your side makes you a man to be envied and worshipped."

The princess takes out the last pin and then picks up the hairbrush. Slowly, she starts gliding it through Kiora's silver-lilac locks.

"If he thinks you are beautiful enough to join his harem, you will become a wife. He only makes wives of women who are truly unique and exceptionally beautiful. Women like you, Priestess."

Kiora shudders and the Princess continues.

"There will be a very delicate hierarchy within the harem," she explains. "The wives are of higher rank than the concubines. Any children born from concubines will not have titles unlike those of the wives. Most importantly, there will be a favourite wife. She will be the leader of the harem."

"So he doesn't have an empress?" Kiora asks.

"No. I don't think he's liked any woman enough to give her that title. If you play your cards right, then perhaps you could work your way up."

"I don't think so," Kiora replies, shaking her head.

"Well, just be careful. All the women in that harem will be competing to be the favourite. Most of them will be extremely ruthless in order to get what they want. If you want my advice? Trust none of them. One moment they'll be singing your praises, the next, they'll be stabbing you in the back. They may be your sisters in marriage, but these women will be nothing like your winter sisters."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kiora sighs. Her fists curl in anger and she looks into the mirror, meeting the Princess's eyes.

"Why me?" she asks. "Why the Winter Priestesses?"

"The Dragon Emperor has grown bored of our mortal women," Larissa stammers quickly.

"So your brother risked his life to find a priestess?" Kiora replies, still frowning. "Why a priestess?"

"Because my brother needs to give the emperor something exceptional. Otherwise, the Emperor would have demanded-"

She stops suddenly, her face paling.

"What would he have demanded, princess?" Kiora asks, narrowing her eyes.

Larissa gulps. "Me."