The Wolverine

He Rises

Phryne Amarantyne

First of all the disclaimer.  I do NOT own any of these names, places or events named here.  This is a “mid-chapter” doodle in between events in the book “Legends of Shannara: The Measure of the Magic” by Terry Brooks.  All copyright belongs to the author alone.  

The elven eyes betrayed only sadness and desperation as the girl realized the truth of things.  Though their lives were immeasurably longer than that of their human counterpart, she knew death and knew it well.  Her father had been murdered within sight just moments before.  King Oparion Amarantyne was beloved of his people, and respected by those of the “lesser” races who rarely visited and were welcomed into the elven city of Arborlon.  She shed a many a tear, feeling each subsequent roll of moisture down her cheek.

The Home Guard had not yet come to claim her, yet she suspected it would not be long.  Her lengthy childhood prepared her for any amount of love and life, but Oparion had warned her that life as a Princess would also bring a certain amount of intrigue, drama and possibly much deeper threats.  The wife her father chose after mother passed harbored a secret love of power that was hard to miss unless you were enthralled by the sights and scents of the woman.  Father, in a very foolhardy and dramatic fashion, was completely taken with Iseold’s beauty…the allure of all that is to be young.

Phryne Amarantyne was not tricked, nor was she lured by the sweetness of the woman.  For all the sweetness of tongue, the older woman could not trick or persuade the princess into loving or believing her.  The King had drawn away from his daughter, as much from the shock of memory as distraction by his new muse.  She commanded his attention, absorbed it, and radiated it back to the Court so as to be seen in a favorable light.

Thus, the Princess knew it was only a matter of time before she was unduly blamed and locked up for her father’s death.  Both the King’s wife and her perpetual slime of an aide, Teonette, had raised no small fuss about the proximity of the teenage girl to the gruesome scene unfolding in her father’s chambers.  They shrieked that the blood on her robes and hands were the end result of a fight witnessed in the hours before.

“She said she hated her father and she wished he would just hurry up and die!!” the blubbering Iseold said to the arriving Guardsmen.  “I saw the knife rise and fall, and couldn’t believe for a moment what I was seeing.”  She wiped the tears and sweat away from her face, glancing quickly at Phryne to make sure the girl was frozen in fear, just as she expected.  A slight curve tinged the edge of her mouth, and a sparkle lit the corner of her eye as she witnessed the tears Princess Phryne could not stop.

“I must take action immediately to ensure this vile child can harm no more members of the Amarantyne household.”  The woman drew herself up, straightening her back as if to enlarge her stature, and her power right along with it.

Iseold Severine would have what she wanted, and nothing could stand in her way this time.  “Take this patricidal villain into the supply room in the Council chambers.  Murderer or not, she is still a princess.  We must show the elves every pretense of respect if I’m to take the throne without outright civil war.”  A slight wave of fear brushed past her eyes as she considered the Orullians, who would surely stand up against her in Phryne’s name…..