All Chapters of Four Realms of Desire : Chapter 1 - Chapter 6

The King of Greenborne was not an early riser. It was late morning when he beckoned Alix to follow him up a spiralling set of wooden stairs, the banisters carved here and there with childish initials scratched in with a blunt knife.“Come,” the King said, “I’ll show you the view.” He punctuated this with a wink, which Alix chose to ignore.They emerged onto a gallery that overlooked what would have been a parade ground in Windrider but here resembled a minor skirmish. The grass was patchy and pitted with circles of trampled mud. At the far end, an ancient yew tree bent at a stubborn angle, its roots exposed.Below them, four girls and a boy tumbled across the training yard in a chaos of wooden swords, grass stains and shouted accusations. One princess had another in a headlock. The boy was knocked flat and immediately set upon by two others, only to re-emerge moments later with a triumphant shout before being dragged back down again.Someone lost a shoe. Hair escaped every braid. Laug

The King looked at each of the sisters in turn.“You all know the Marriage Decree of King Arion. You all know what is required of this house.”His eyes flicked to Loren. “I had hoped to keep you with me longer but the King of Windrider is dead and the Prince cannot be crowned without a Queen. You will leave for the east before the moon is full.”Loren had known this was coming but the weight of his words landed anyway. “Sybille, you will go north to Frostborne, to your mother’s people,” he said. “Rowan, you are promised to Count Xander of the Mirefolk, you will leave for the south before the year is out.”Loren was first to break the silence. She did so with her hands clasped in front of her, knuckles white.“I accept,” she said, voice steady. “I will be ready when the arrangements are made.”Her father gave her a nod, as if she had passed a test he’d set for her years before.Sybille said nothing. She folded her hands at her waist, eyes down. Only once did she glance at the fire, a

The terrace was less crowded than the great hall. Pale winter light washed everything in silver and grey. Below the terrace, trees stretched skeletal branches toward the sky.Loren rested her hands on the stone balustrade and slowed her breath. Leaping from the terrace and bolting into the wilderness like a rabbit was, unfortunately, not acceptable princess behaviour.A delegation of Mirefolk lingered nearby. Even standing still, they seemed to radiate a kind of liquid movement, like eels in a current. The young women glanced her way, whispering and laughing behind their hands. Little shells hung from their wrists and ankles, tinkling as they moved.Loren watched them out of the corner of her eye. A shadow passed over her.Overhead, Loren’s owl, Tyllu, circled lazily.The great forest owl was a magnificent creature, bronze feathers catching the light, its wide wings casting shadows across the terrace.She had raised Tyllu from a chick after he fell from a nest in a storm. He knew her