|
Excerpt
Alconia
By Ellen
Margret
Chapter One
The wedding of Prince Hawke and
Owletta was a joyous occasion. Faery wine flowed freely in the
banqueting hall of King Emporo’s palace. Giggling faery children
passed around dainty blackberry tarts and tiny strawberry pies, and
the adult faeries danced and were merry. The hall was decorated with
sweet smelling flowers of every kind, and the faery minstrels in the
gallery played upon pipes and lutes to create the most melodious of
faery music.
Prince Hawke danced with his wife,
the beautiful Owletta. He would have danced with her all evening had
not the king taken him aside and instructed him to give the faery
groom speech.
“Yes, go on, Hawke,” Richard, Hawke’s
brother, insisted. “Tell us how much you love Letta, not that we
don’t already know.”
“You love her, too. For years, you
thought she was your sister. Why don’t you make the speech in my
stead?”
Richard chuckled and wagged his
finger. “Oh, no, brother, the king has decreed that the faery groom
shall make his speech. I wait with baited breath to hear what you
have to say. Just because in the land of humans the best man also
makes a speech, it doesn’t have to be that way here.”
“What is that you say?” the king
interrupted. “In your world, the best faery speaks also.”
“Yes, it is our custom. Often the
best man’s speech is the longest. It’s also supposed to be funny.”
The king sat down upon his throne.
“We shall hear two speeches. Hawke, you may deliver your speech
first.”
Hawke held up a small piece of faery
parchment. “It’s all written on here.”
“But that is a tiny piece of paper,”
Queen Admira declared. “You cannot have much to say, my son.”
“What I have to say,” Hawke said,
taking Owletta by the hand, “is that I am the luckiest soul in all
of faery land. I have the most beautiful faery that ever existed as
my wife. She is expecting our babe, and because she is here, all is
perfection in the land of the faeries.” Hawke kissed Owletta on the
hand. “Thank you for becoming my faery wife, Letta,” he declared. He
turned to face the faery guests. “Thank you for coming to our
wedding. Drink until you are well into your faery cups. This is a
time to rejoice.”
“That was very brief, Hawke,” the
pretty, silver haired faery, said as she entered the hall carrying a
bottle of elderflower wine.
“Yes, Alconia is right. That was far
too brief, Hawke. I think that love has dulled your senses. Richard,
you are Hawke’s human brother. I shall hear your speech,” the king
announced.
Richard ran a hand through his dark,
chestnut hair. “Err, I don’t actually have one.”
“You are a human,” the king shot
back.
“Yes, and they always have something
to say,” Alconia added. “I find, though, that the words of a mere
human are not always worth listening to.”
Richard arched an eyebrow at the
faery princess. “I shall speak.”
Queen Admira took her throne beside
the king. “We are listening, Richard of the mortals.”
Richard took a sip of faery wine,
wishing it were strong whisky. His eyes grew wide, and he took
another, larger sip.
“Careful what you wish for in faery
land,” Hawke laughed.
“I think my brother has just tasted
whisky,” Letta giggled.
“How did I do that?” Richard gasped.
“Today is a special day,” the king
explained. “There is much faery dust in the air. On such days,
wishes can sometimes come true.”
“Heck,” Richard said. “I think I
could grow to like it here.”
Alconia flicked back a silken strand
of her hair and tossed Richard an imperious look. “You won’t be
staying long. You leave with your mother and father upon the
morrow.”
Richard glanced at his mother and
father. “Dad, I’ll bet you’ve turned your wine into real ale. Mum,
have you got a gin?”
They laughed and raised their
glasses, nodding.
“Ah, I thought so. Make the most of
it. As Alconia says, we leave tomorrow. Now, as for the speech, well
what can I say? We have just witnessed the marriage of Hawke and
Letta. I understand that never before has a mortal married a faery
princess, but then, theirs is such an unusual story. Hawke was born
in the land of humans and taken from our mother at birth. He was
brought here and raised as a faery prince.”
“We all knew he was odd. He couldn’t
fly,” Alconia said, sharply. “And he was too big and too dark and
too ugly.”
“Enough, daughter,” the king said,
raising his hand.
“I never thought Hawke was ugly,” a
young faery with golden blonde hair said.
PDF Ebook
 HTML Ebook
|
