Cursed by Dawn

She surveyed her large brown eyes in the mirror and pinched her cheeks to pinken them slightly. Pulling a comb through her mass of rich, chocolate locks, she made quick work of a plait and finished the end with a plum coloured velvet ribbon, the tips of her pointed ears poking through her hair. 

A knock on the door was followed by, “Ailish, Father wants to see you in his study,” as the sound of soft footsteps retreated. She hurried to her father’s study, knocking, and pushing it open as he said, “Come in.” 

Mr Anker was hunched over his desk, half moon spectacles down his hawkish nose, crystal blue eyes peering over them at a stack of papers. His thick, black silver-streaked hair was combed back, gathered in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. 

“Budgets again, Father?” She smiled, taking the seat across from him.

The family budget was a constant source of concern for her father, ever since those cargo ships had sank four years ago, leaving the family no fortune with which to mate off their five daughters. 

“My favourite daughter,” he looked up, grinning warmly.

“You wished to see me?” 

“I have been presented with an opportunity, which I cannot pass up. I would say it is too good to be true, but I have received this male’s side of the bargain this morning,” He gestured slightly to a large wooden chest. With a snap of his fingers, the lock clicked and the chest swung open revealing stacks of gold coin, and handfuls of precious stones. 

Agape, Ailish asked, “What, pray tell, did you bargain with to receive such a sum?” 

His eyes were sad as he sighed, “Haviva.” 

“Haviva?” Her eyebrows bunched together and cheeks flushed with anger. “What do you mean? You have sold Haviva?” 

Her father chuckled slightly. “No. She is to be mated. To Prince Graeme Fairbairn of Saesnag.”

“Haviva wanted a love match,” she felt her veins heating with temper.

“Calm yourself,” he said as a gentle breeze swept past her cheek, like the caress of fingers. “I know what Haviva wanted, and I would have moved the realms to give her a love match. But since our misfortunes, we have not been in a position to pay a dowry… This opportunity fell into my lap, and how could I turn that-” he gestured to the chest “down?” 

“And what does my sister think of this arrangement?” Ailish asked.

“I was hoping you would assist me in telling her.”

Mr Anker summoned Haviva, “Good morning,” she beamed, her golden head appearing around the doorframe upon entering the room. Taking in their countenances, something faltered in hers, and she rushed to take up the seat next to Ailish’s, “ Has someone died?” 

Mr Anker said gently, “No, you are to be mated.” 

Haviva’s blue eyes - their father’s blue eyes - widened in shock, and her full mouth fell open in a gasp. After some moments, she asked her father quietly, “To whom?” 

“My dear, a prince of Saesnag has sent an emissary to these lands in order to find a mate of Murtaugh’s line. The emissary’s enquiries led him to me, father of five daughters of Murtaugh. He offered to pay a handsome dowry for one such female, and asked for the prettiest of my daughters. Naturally, darling girl, that is you,” he looked between the two, “though you are a very close second, Ailish.” 

“Why does he care about the Murtaugh line?” Ailish demanded.

“You know very well it is the only reason we have not been completely shunned from society. I imagine the prince consulted a Royal Breeder, and was advised to seek a mate of the line.” 

“You mean to tell me that you did not ask why they were so keen on our bloodline that he sent an emissary all the way to Mhèad? Is this not too good to be true?” Ailish said crossly. 

Haviva looked up, “What is too good to be true?” 

Mr Anker pointed to the chest laid open, drawing his eldest daughter’s attention to the trove within. Haviva fell back in her chair, “For me?” 

“Yes,” he smiled at her gently, “It is for your mating and it is more than enough to pay handsome dowries for each of your four sisters.” 

Ailish turned to Haviva then, placing a hand on her arm, “You do not have any responsibility to this deal.” 

Haviva smiled at Ailish, placing her hand on her own, “I have been out for three seasons. If I was destined for a love match, I would have found one by now.” 

Their father gave a small, sad smile, “I knew a heart as big as yours would not turn this down for our family’s sake. And anyway, the bargain has been sworn.” He held up his left hand, palm out, so they could see the tattoo. 

“An ink oath,” Ailish breathed. “I thought those were folklore.” 

“So did I. But,Saesnag adheres to the practice. I do not know what would happen to it if we did not keep our end,” he shuddered.

Haviva squared her shoulders and said, “When do I leave?” 

Mr Anker’s face was solemn as he said, “A fortnight. He will come for you.” 

Arrangements were made for Ailish to travel to Saesnag with her sister. The fortnight had flown by, and on the morning of their departure they took breakfast in the parlour with their family. 

“You do not know when our carriage is arriving?” Ailish asked their father incredulously. 

“All the emissary said was in a fortnight. I do not know if he means to take you by sun or moon.”

The day passed rather monotonously. When teatime came, the family reconvened in the parlour over platters of dainty little finger sandwiches. Haviva hardly touched her food, and kept looking at the clock above the fireplace. 

“Are you sure today is a fortnight?” Haviva asked their father. 

He nodded, “Today is the day.”

When the sun filtering through the window lowered, signalling dusk, the servant at last announced, “Milord, Prince Fairbairn of Saesnag.” 

A tall blonde figure entered the room. He had a sharp jawline, a full mouth, an aquiline nose which gave his almost-perfect face a quality of interest to behold, and sea-blue eyes dusted with thick blonde lashes. His hair was the shade of freshly baled hay, and swept back at his neck with a velvet blue bow that matched his perfectly tailored three-piece suit. 

Rising from the table, the family all took to bowing and curtseying just as the prince, looking to Mr Anker, gave a slight bow in greeting. His eyes fell to Ailish, and a smile danced across his lips. 

“Welcome, Your Grace,” Mr Anker said, “Mrs Anker,” he gestured his mate to come forward. 

Mrs Anker smiled and said, “Our eldest and your would-be mate, Haviva,” as Haviva curtseyed, the prince glanced between the two eldest, and his jaw ticked. “And these are our other daughters, Ailish, Pernella, Aleeza and Iris.” Each girl bowed their head as their name was spoken. 

The prince said a bit sharply, “Mr Anker I would appreciate a word in private.” 

The two men made their way down the hall to his private study. Mr Anker offered the prince a tumbler full of amber liquid as he asked, “I trust your journey here was pleasant?” 

“Yes,” Graeme smiled, but it did not meet his eyes. “Our bargain was for a daughter of Murtaugh’s line, yet you have presented me with a female who does not bear Murtaugh’s gifts.” 

“Seeing as my wife is descendant of Murtaugh, all five of my daughters are of Murtaugh’s line. Your emissary made no mention of Murtaugh’s gifts.” He took a large gulp from his glass. 

Graeme placed his glass untouched on the desk, “I want the dark-haired one with fire in her veins.” 

“An oath is an oath, Your Grace,” Mr Anker held up his palm waving the tattoo at the prince. 

“An oath can be renegotiated by the two bargaining parties.” A glimmer of light shone over Mr Anker’s palm, and the ink vanished. A moment later, it returned, a slight burning sensation causing the male to flinch. 

“This is not up for renegotiation,” Mr Anker said flatly.

Graeme picked up his glass, took a measured swallow and said, “I will give you four times what I have already given.” He waved his arm and four more chests appeared.

Mr Anker shook his head, and said, “I am sorry, Your Grace, but Ailish is not now, nor will she ever be a part of this bargain. I assure you, in Haviva, you will find a most pleasant and sincere mate.” 

The prince waved his arm again, the chests vanishing, “We depart at once,” he rose from his seat. 

“Ailish is to travel with you, Your Grace. She would like to see her sister settled in her new home,” Mr Anker said, also rising. 

They travelled by daylight, stopping only after dusk to dine and sleep in various grand manor houses along the way to Saesnag. The prince never dined with them, and Haviva was at a loss as to who her would-be mate was. Ailish’s uneasiness at the whole arrangement only grew on their journey. Their bones ached from long hours cooped up in a carriage, and they had all but exhausted conversation between them, when they saw Stonehaven Castle about a mile off. It was perched atop a large rock connected to the mainland by a drawbridge.

They were ushered upstairs to their bedchambers with the prince’s emissary, Lord Ambrose Devlon, promising to give them a tour after breakfast the next day. 

Ambrose made good on his promise, taking them around the lush gardens after breakfast, then a whistle stop tour of the west wing - where their apartments were - shuttling them past endless parlours, “This is where we play cards,” he said, “This is where the Queen Consort hosts High Tea.” 

Their heads were swimming with their new surroundings when they arrived at a set of ornately carved double doors. Ambrose pushed them open, and Ailish took in the largest personal library she had ever seen. Ambrose left them in the library, seated near the window, with books open on their laps, promising to see them at dinner.

They changed for dinner and were led to the dining room by their Lady’s Maids, where the prince, his emissary, and a female rose from their seats upon their entrance. 

“Let me present my mother, the Queen Consort, Roslin,” Graeme said, bowing his head slightly, “Miss Haviva and Miss Ailish Anker.” 

Roslin walked around the long table, put her gloved hands on Ailish’s shoulders and said, “We are so excited for the mating.” 

Ailish’s cheeks heated with embarrassment, stammering slightly, “I am - I am excited for my sister’s mating, too.” 

Roslin’s mouth fell open slightly, as she turned to look at Haviva. She laughed uncomfortably, and put her hands on Haviva’s shoulders, “Of course, you are Haviva.” 

Haviva smiled demurely, “It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Yes, the pleasure is mine,” Roslin said, dropping her hands to her sides. Her eyes darted to Ailish again, as a puzzled look crossed her features. “So you are both daughters of Murtaugh?” Roslin said, returning to her seat.

“Yes, we are,” Haviva said, “There are five of us.” 

“Five daughters of Murtaugh!” Roslin said in disbelief. Her shock was not surprising. Fae matings were rarely so fruitful. For Fae to produce one child was a feat in itself, let alone five. 

Graeme cleared his throat slightly, “Madhava says the joining of our bloodlines will produce strong offspring.” 

“Any bloodline paired with theirs would produce strong offspring,” Roslin chuckled. “They are descended from a god.” 

Ailish cleared her throat, “We were always told Murtaugh was a prince of Mhèad.” 

“Murtaugh was one of the last gods to walk the earth. His father was Aed, god of fire,” Roslin said. 

Haviva said, “I do not have fire in my veins,” smiling at Roslin, “My element is water.” A delicate butterfly flapped out of Roslin’s wine glass, plunged, and the drink was as before. 

Roslin laughed and said, “Delightful. We are not elemental Fae, but take our powers directly from The Mother.” 

Ailish looked up, “I have never heard of such a thing.” 

“The Fae from the pictish bloodlines are elemental Fae. Those of us who are not pictish do not answer to one element. We command them all,” Graeme offered.

Ambrose nodded, “Because we command all four we do not have mastery over any one.” 

“You mean you cannot produce, say, wind? You can only alter the wind that already blows?” Ailish asked the three across from her, as they all nodded in agreement. 

Ailish cleared her throat, “Fire is my element.” 

“We know,” Roslin smiled slyly. 

Haviva shifted in her seat uncomfortably, “Ambrose gave us a tour today.” 

“Perhaps tomorrow we can see the east wing?” Ailish looked at Ambrose. 

Graeme cleared his throat, and adjusted his cravat slightly. “The east wing is where I keep my private apartments.” 

Haviva looked at Graeme, “I would very much like to see them.” 

He averted his eyes, and said, “The east wing is off limits,” in a tone that did not allow for further discussion. 

Some weeks passed, the sisters only ever seeing the prince at dinner. Haviva felt uncertain of her would-be mate, as she felt she did not really know him. Ailish tried to console her, saying they had centuries to become acquainted, and his duties kept him occupied. 

Ailish had ventured to the nearby village in search of lace for a gown, and was walking along one of the country roads between Stonehaven and the village, when a man appeared suddenly in the road dressed head to toe in black. His dark eyes were shielded from view by his tophat. He had a rather prominent hawk nose that accompanied by his leering smile, gave him a predatory grace. 

“Lord Lysander Mallag, advisor to Queen Melia of Blackwatch,” he tipped his hat to her in greeting, “I have been most eager to make your acquaintance, Miss Anker.” 

She bowed her head slightly, “We can now say we are acquainted. Good day, Sir,” she stepped forward to bypass him, but he moved his walking stick, blocking her path. 

“Returning to Stonehaven?” 

“Yes, they are expecting me shortly.”

“Allow me the honour of escorting you,” he offered her his arm. She hesitated and he added, “It is not so wise for a female to walk unaccompanied this distance.” Reluctantly, she took his arm and a great wind shook around them, whipping the air so violently that she could not see a foot in front of her face. 

Ailish did not return to Stonehaven that evening. News of her disappearance rocked the castle’s inhabitants, with sentries dispatched to find her. Their efforts were futile, and the next day Haviva joined Roslin for tea, sick with worry over her sister’s absence. 

“Where do you think she is?” Haviva sipped her tea. 

Roslin sighed, “Blackwatch. I think Queen Melia has her.” 

“What interest does she take with my sister?” 

“I think it best I show you,” Roslin said, rising from her seat. They linked arms and exited the room, crossing the hall, and coming to a locked door.

“The east wing?” Haviva’s voice was barely a whisper. 

“Stay close,” Roslin said quietly as they walked, hand-in-hand, to a door at the end of the long corridor, and Roslin pushed inside. Haviva noted a gash across the seat of a chair, slightly alarmed, and looked at Roslin who did not meet her eyes. 

“What does this have to do with my sister?” 

“When Princess Aminta came of fruit bearing age, about fifty years past, Melia brought her to Stonehaven. She proposed mating Aminta and Graeme - to rejoin Stonehaven and Blackwatch under their rule. We refused, but I did not expect the consequences. For what we did not know was that Melia had bartered her very essence with The Mother, becoming wiccan, possessing dark powers because she no longer has a soul. She cursed Graeme, one she vowed she would not break until he agreed to mating Aminta.” 

Suddenly, the door to the room flung open, and the door frame filled with a giant towering creature covered head to toe in fur the colour of freshly baled hay. It stalked into the room on two legs which ended in massive clawed paws. Two large white horns protruding from its head curved upwards. Roslin cowered slightly, as the beast’s sea-blue eyes surveyed the room. 

“Graeme,” Roslin’s voice quivered. “It’s me, Mother.” she tentatively reached a hand towards him, but he pulled back and bared his teeth. 

He sniffed the air around Roslin. Haviva could see his shoulders relax slightly, and then he dropped his head towards Roslin’s trunk, and nuzzled into her. Roslin wrapped her arms around his large furry neck, then went to scratch behind his ears. He thumped his tail in pleasure. 

She said quietly to Haviva, “I do not come to the east wing often, for self-preservation,” she wiped a tear from her cheek. 

“He has been like this for fifty years?” 

“From sunup to dusk, every day.”

Suddenly understanding why she never laid eyes on her would-be mate during daylight hours, she asked quietly, “There must be a way to break the curse?” 

“When the curse was cast, I visited the Oracle at the Temple and I was told the curse could be lifted by a daughter of Murtaugh with fire in her veins hailing from Mhèad, and she is Graeme’s mate of the heart.” 

Haviva moved a hand to her mouth in shock, “Ailish?”

Roslin nodded, “When we find her we have to tell her the truth. We have to see if your father will renegotiate the terms of the oath.”

“On that, we are agreed,” Haviva said solemnly.