The castle had been bustling all afternoon with preparations for the celebration of the Prince's return. People from the village came and went, the entire staff was busy running about. The beginning of the five days and nights of celebration was to be a party of magnificence held in the largest garden of the palace with performers and music, food and drink, and all of the castle and village were invited.
Astasha had spent the afternoon preparing herself, returning to her small clearing to properly pull as much energy as she could handle before bathing and changing into a long red gown with gold embroidery that left her back and arms exposed. As a witch, she never went without her sash that carried a number of magical items in little pouches. They dangled and bounced as she gracefully made her way out into the garden.
The area was packed with people from all walks of life, villagers, royals, soldiers. Tables were scattered across the grass adorned with foods and drinks of lavish proportions. As much as Astasha longed to grabbed a glass of mulled wine, she knew she needed her senses clear.
She looked over the crowd, her eyes landing at the pinnacle of the festivities. On a part of the ground raised slightly above the rest were two thrones. In the largest sat the King. He was chatting with one of his military advisors. Next to him, in a silver tunic and light armor, sat Prince Calder. He was smiling and laughing with a young soldier. That smile. She couldn't get past it. It had won her heart, and the thought of it had comforted her many a lonely night.
She found herself watching him, a faint smile on her own lips and a small flutter in her heart. He was just as handsome as she remembered. She could still remember his smell, the taste of his lips, the feel of him against her.
His eyes moved and suddenly found her in the crowd. Her heart skipped a beat before she forced herself to lock away the memories and focus on the task at hand.
She bowed her head ever so slightly to him before turning and making her way toward a group of dancers performing on the lawn. The Prince excused himself from his conversation and rose, making his way toward her.
She could sense him approaching, feel his energy as he moved through the crowd, nodding and greeting people as he went. Then, he was beside her.
"Sorceress Astasha."
"Your highness."
They didn't look at each other but pretended to watch the dancers as they moved to an exotic music.
"Congratulations on your successful return." She said.
"And to you on your position. I never doubted it would be yours when Fiera retired her place."
She could feel the electricity between them. Though their words were formal, both were hiding something much more intimate.
She had been eighteen and he twenty when they had met. He had been sent into the village by his father to assess the needs of its people for the coming winter when he had seen her in the market. She was selling herbs and had captivated him, her red flowing hair and eyes like fire.
He had purchased her entire stock to get her to accompany him for the remainder of the day. By nightfall, they were absolutely infatuated with one another. He was funny and kind, and she was witty and strong. When he had to return to the palace he left her with a kiss on her hand and a promise to return to see her again.
And so he did. They knew it would never be more than a fleeting romance, but he would come to meet her as often as he could and they would steel away to be with one another. For a year they hid in the shadows together, laughing and kissing and learning all there was to know about one another, Astasha shielding their experiences with her magic before he would return to the palace. But on the eve of his 21st birthday, reality came crashing down upon them. The day of a prince's 21st birthday was the day he was to depart on his quest for the throne. Astasha never forgot that night, how she had wept and he had kissed her tears away. How they had shared that last night in intimate embrace of one another, entangled in each other's bodies. Having just come into her powers, the experience was beyond anything she could describe, feeling everything on a level she never thought possible. They were in love, making love before they were forced to say goodbye.
Two years later the King came to her village in search of a new fire witch and her mother had pushed her into the running. She tried to refuse, knowing that someday, she would be a part of Calder's magical advisory should he return successfully, which she knew he would, and the thought of being around him every day without being able to be with him had almost torn her apart. It was forbidden for royalty to be with a witch. It was deemed that the power that would be held by a ruler of both royal and magical blood was more than any should have. But when the king personally came to her small cottage to name her as his choice, Astasha had no choice but to accept.
For years she had forced herself to forget about her love for the Prince, to steel her heart away and resign herself to the position she would hold until the magic left her. But there was nothing she could have done, no spell she could have performed (although she had tried to find one) that would have stopped her from feeling everything she had tried to forget the moment she saw him again.
And now he stood next to her, so close that she had but to reach her hand out and she could touch him. No matter how much energy she gave to the bubble around her heart, being this close to him was breaking it apart. But she had a job to do. She needed to be able to read him, to try to figure out what it had been she had felt during the ritual.
A servant passed by with a tray of mulled wine and she stopped him to take two. As much as she hated manipulating the man she loved, she needed his guard down. She smelled the wine to make sure there were no poisons present (something she had been trained in), before turning to face Calder.
He had been watching her, his lips slightly parted, a look on his face that showed he too was battling something inside.
"To your victory." Astasha said as she held out a glass to him.
He reached out to take it and their hands touched. Once again it was like a rush of electricity in her veins. Their eyes were locked on each other as he took the glass and they both drank. She knew the small sip would muddy her skills a little but not enough to block her powers.
The moment between them was broken by an older man, one of the financial advisors if she was to remember correctly. "Your highness, many congratulations on your successful return!" He said, bowing to the Prince.
Astasha took the opportunity with the prince's attention distracted to slip away. He turned back just in time to see her slip into the crowd, heading toward the edge of the garden that led to the forest.