Prologue

 

Nobody liked the king much, and the people of Willow least of all. Golden-haired and handsome Pierre Saule was a war hero, though, and well-respected and intimidating enough that neighbouring countries did not wish to cross him. For that he had managed to cling to the throne for ten years, despite his cruel disregard for the common people he was supposed to rule.

In contrast his beautiful wife, Mariette, and his brother, Francis, were beloved by all. Francis tempered his older brother’s bad behaviour by acting as the head of his council and, with the help of a powerful wizard who had served in Pierre’s army for years, ensured that the country did not fall into ruins. Mariette worked with a team of loyal doctors to bring better health care to those too impoverished to pay for it, and spent more time on the road touring the country than she did in the royal city of Willow or the palace itself.

When she gave birth to a baby girl two years after Pierre had taken the throne, the kingdom rejoiced. With Mariette and Francis there to teach the child she was sure to become a better ruler than her father, the common folk said.

Over the next eight years the Princess Genevieve grew into a bright, intelligent and well-mannered young girl, whom even her father came to adore. She had his golden hair, and his green eyes, and thought that he could do no wrong. Perhaps it was a narcissistic kind of love on the king’s part, but it was as close to true love as Mariette had known the man to be capable of.

For though the pair kept up a united front to the kingdom, behind closed doors the king and queen often argued. Mariette should spend more time in the palace, Pierre would say, even as his wife prepared for another tour of the country alongside Francis that would keep her away for two months. She would respond in kind – that it should be the king himself who joined her on the tour, not his brother – but Pierre would not listen. He didn’t want to mingle with the common folk. In order to punish his wife he would refuse to let her take Genevieve along on her tours, though he knew he was hurting his daughter in the process, too.

Every night before Mariette left the palace she would comb her daughter’s golden hair, singing soft lullabies and telling Genevieve how much she loved her. Genevieve longed for such nights with her mother; when she and her uncle were gone all she had was her father, who stayed in a perpetual bad mood when they were both away.

And then, on the eve of Genevieve’s eighth birthday, the fragmented, fragile peace that had been so hard-fought for within the palace was broken. For Mariette and Francis had long-since been more than what they seemed, hiding their passion for each other from the king at every turn. But it had been common knowledge in every little town and village the two of them had visited; the people simply loved them enough to keep their secret. But eventually rumours began to spread to the wrong ears, and the king finally learned the full extent of what had been going on for years behind his back.

For it was not only the king who had golden hair and green eyes.

Furious and humiliated, and unable to look at the little girl he had always thought his own, Pierre had his wizard spirit Genevieve away to live out the rest of her days in the man’s enchanted tower, without so much as an explanation to the princess about what was going on. He imprisoned his wife in the palace – a punishment only fitting for a woman who thrived on exploring the country. When he discovered that the wizard had long since known of her infidelity Pierre imprisoned him in the palace, too, upon pain of death of his eighteen year old son should he try to escape.

The king had planned to behead Francis for his treachery. He wanted nothing more than to watch his brother die, after all. But his pride was stronger, and he did not want his country to know just how humiliated he was. So, instead, Pierre banished his brother, ordering him to never set foot inside the country he loved so much ever again.

The king pretended to his kingdom that everything was fine, and informed the people that both Mariette and Genevieve had fallen ill, explaining their absence from the public eye. When eventually his wife was forced to bear him a son, Pierre rejoiced. He did not need his ‘daughter’, now that he had Prince Louis. His line and rule would continue as intended.

It was perhaps some ironic twist of fate that his young son grew up genuinely sickly. Even the king’s wizard could do nothing for him. Everyone knew the boy was unlikely to reach adolescence, so time and again the wizard urged for Pierre to bring back Genevieve.

Yet the king’s pride was too great. Genevieve was not his daughter. He would not give his brother the satisfaction of having his child sit upon the throne. Many times he tried to produce another heir but Mariette was too frail from her imprisonment to have another child. Pierre did not want to marry again, or father a bastard, for doing so would involve having to admit to his country that there was a problem he could not solve on his own.

Eventually the king was forced to concede that bringing back Genevieve may be his only option. The girl did not know her father was, in fact, her uncle. Pierre could train her for the throne under the belief that she was still his. Genevieve had always adored him, after all. She was the only one who had.

And so he ordered his wizard to magic her back to the palace from his enchanted tower. Pierre would ensure his daughter trusted only him; not her mother. Everything would be fine. Nobody would ever know Genevieve had been locked away far from the palace for so long.

But something unexpected happened.

When the wizard cast the spell to bring the princess back, she didn’t appear.

Genevieve was gone from the tower.