As the carriage finally emerged from the dense, oppressive forest that marked the border of the Shadow Kingdom, Anya gasped. Before her stretched a landscape that defied all the grim tales and dark rumors she had heard. Rolling hills, carpeted in vibrant emerald green, stretched as far as the eye could see. Crystal-clear rivers snaked through the valleys, reflecting the sunlight filtering through the leaves of towering, ancient trees. The air, instead of being heavy and oppressive, was surprisingly fresh and sweet, filled with the scent of wildflowers and pine.
She had expected a bleak, barren wasteland, a reflection of the sinister reputation that preceded the Shadow Kingdom. Instead, she found herself in a place of unexpected beauty, a hidden paradise cloaked in an undeserved veil of darkness.
"It's... beautiful," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
Valerian glanced at her, a flicker of something akin to amusement in his silver eyes. "The Shadow Kingdom is full of surprises, Anya. Not all of them are unpleasant."
As they journeyed deeper into the kingdom, Anya continued to marvel at its hidden wonders. They passed through quaint villages nestled amidst fields of golden wheat, where children with laughter as bright as the sun played in the streets. She saw bustling market squares filled with colorful stalls overflowing with fresh produce, vibrant fabrics, and intricate crafts. The people, though dressed in darker hues than those of Atheria, were warm and welcoming, their faces filled with a quiet strength and a deep connection to their land.
The carriage eventually arrived at a majestic castle that seemed to rise organically from the heart of a mountain, its dark stone walls softened by cascading vines and vibrant blossoms. Gargoyles, carved with an unexpected whimsy, perched along the battlements, their expressions more mischievous than menacing. It was a place of power, yes, but also of beauty, a testament to the resilience and artistry of its people.
As Anya stepped out of the carriage, a group of people approached, their faces a mixture of curiosity and thinly veiled disapproval. These were the members of the royal council, the advisors and dignitaries who had ruled alongside Valerian during his years as prince.
"Welcome home, Your Highness," one of them said, his voice laced with a formality that bordered on coldness. He bowed stiffly, but his eyes remained fixed on Anya with open disdain. "And to you as well, Queen Anya."
Anya felt a wave of unease wash over her. She could sense their hostility, their resentment towards her presence. It was clear they viewed her as an outsider, an unwelcome intrusion into their carefully ordered world.
"Thank you," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. She forced a smile, determined to project an air of confidence despite the apprehension gnawing at her. "I am honored to be here."
Valerian stepped forward, his presence radiating an aura of command that silenced the council's murmurs. "Anya," he said, his voice low and steady, "these are the members of the royal council. They have served the Shadow Kingdom faithfully for many years." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group. "However, it is important for you to understand that, as my queen, you share my authority. Their role is to advise, not to dictate."
He turned to Anya, his silver eyes holding hers. "From this day forward, you are not simply Queen Anya. You are Queen Anya of the Shadow Kingdom. And together, we will rule."
Anya's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't corrected her earlier when she had addressed him as a prince. Now she understood. In the Shadow Kingdom, a prince could rule in the absence of a king alongside the royal council until they were married. Only then did they assume the full mantle of king.
She felt a sudden surge of a need to belong. She might be an outsider, but she was also a queen. And she wouldn't let the council's disapproval or the weight of tradition deter her from fulfilling her role.
As the council dispersed, a young woman approached Anya. Her eyes, wide and curious, held a warmth that Anya found surprisingly comforting. She wore the simple garb of a housemaid, her dark hair pulled back in a neat braid.
"Your Majesty," she said, dipping into a respectful curtsy. "My name is Elara. I am to be your personal attendant. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask."
"Thank you, Elara," Anya replied, her smile genuine this time. There was something about the young woman's demeanor, her open and friendly gaze, that put Anya at ease. In a castle filled with wary eyes and cold whispers, Elara's kindness was a welcome beacon.
"I hear you traveled a long way," Elara said, her voice soft. "You must be weary. Shall I prepare a bath for you?"
"That would be lovely," Anya replied, her voice regaining some of its usual warmth. She glanced at Valerian, who was deep in conversation with a council member. A pang of disappointment shot through her. He hadn't even spared her a glance. He was back to being distant, she thought, a sigh escaping her lips.
"And perhaps some tea?" she added, trying to mask her disappointment.
"Of course, Your Majesty," Elara replied with a bright smile. "Anything you desire."
As Elara led Anya through the castle, pointing out hidden gardens and grand halls, Anya felt a growing sense of fatigue. This place is enormous, she thought, her mind wandering. I just want to relax and forget about everything.
She longed for the comfort of her own room, a place where she could finally unwind. The sooner she could slip into that warm bath, the better.