Prologue

A flaming full moon hung low on the horizon, heralding the birth of the new king. The village was shrouded in silence, yet in the Palace of Chalista, merriment abounded. Wine and song flowed freely in the rich banquet hall abrim with merry-makers and well-wishers all hailing the arrival of their prince. A cheer resounded as the king proposed a toast. 'To my son and the continuation of the Dyani line.'
    "Hear, hear," the clinking of goblets punctuated the moment. Commoner and nobleman alike drank to one cause. The festive mood didn't end, for laughter and carousing ensued once again. No one, it seemed, was absent from the great event save the Queen herself.  She rested in the Royal Chambers in the company of her maid and guards.
    "Emalya, pray fetch the child." Her voice wavered as she motioned for her maid. A long morning of childbirth had taxed her strength indeed.
            The maidservant willingly obliged to her mistress’s command with a prim dip of her head.  In the next room, the gentle whimper of the child sounded as the girl swept him into her arms.
            “Majesty,” the girl curtseyed and placed the babe in Gwevuierya’s arms.  The queen stared down at her child feeling as if her heart would burst with adoration and gratitude.  The king’s love for her would surely be all the stronger now that she’d provided him with an heir.  Their tumultuous hold on the kingdom was at last secure.  Peace washed over her and she let her lips caress the child’s smooth cheek.  “You will be called Valin,” she sighed and gazed into his brown eyes.  “My powerful warrior…you have won me your father’s heart.”
            The infant batted her face with his pudgy hand and wailed loudly.  “Emalya please fetch the wet nurse for Valin.”
            The maid seemed taken aback upon hearing the child’s name, but her expression remained placid.  “Yes, Highness.” 
            The child was whisked away and the Queen settled into the rich quilts of the canopied bed, fatigue overtaking her senses.  The memory of her child, her heir, danced in her mind as contentment took her into peaceful dreams.
    Yet peace would not last, for through the palace crept two who had other dreams in mind.  They cared not for their king and his ways.  Jealousy was rooted deep within their hearts. 
            The guards standing watch over their queen had been successfully drugged and overlooked in the festivity of the day.  The maid herself would be no trouble.  As the two crept into the Queen’s chambers, the youngest stopped beside her sleeping form and placed a kiss upon her crimson lips.  “For you my dearest."
            The latter hissed at his companion and motioned him towards the shadows of the adjoining nursery.  Emalya slept soundly on the floor.  She would never feel a thing.  The man drew his blade and slit her throat.  Her body twitched and shuddered violently before slumping lifeless to the floor.  The following youth reached for the sleeping child and clamped a hand over his mouth to silence his whimpering.  The other sheathed his dagger and ran his hands through the blood seeping from the girl’s fatal wound.  He then stood and smeared the liquid across the child’s bedding.
            “I should kill you,” he hissed at the child’s quivering form.  “But I’ve a plan much wiser.”  He raised his sword above his head and brought it sharply through the bedding.  Feathers flew everywhere.
            The child began to wail, but the man slapped him soundly and the babe fell deathly silent.  “From this moment on, you are dead to the world.”  He jabbed his thumb towards the door and motioned his companion out.  They crept once again past the silent queen and stepped around the unconscious guards.
            Singing and laughter carried to their ears from the Great Hall.  And while the rest of the empire celebrated, the two men and the child vanished into the night.