Chapter One

Of course, it rained. It poured down in great, grey sheets of water that splashed against the cobblestone paths and practically tore down every black banner, every funeral wreath, every royal standard. Despite the rain, ten young men carried on their shoulders a great coffin, shining white, with gold silk and flowers draped over it. The rain crushed the flowers and ruined the silk and beat upon the men so hard they felt like climbing into the coffin themselves. The wind howled and screeched and everywhere was a bitter cold that slid into the men’s tunics and crept into their boots, chilling their souls. And yet they kept moving.
The on-lookers stood on each side of the street, dressed in their black gowns and robes. There were tears on every cheek--or perhaps they were only raindrops. Handkerchiefs were seen everywhere. Even the children wore grim expressions, as if they understood the death of a Keeper, as if they could fathom their abandonment. Not only had Isabella been their Keeper, she had been the most gracious, the most understanding, the most sensible, and the most beautiful. She had been the best Keeper that Elganiel had ever seen, ruling with a kind hand, creating her own utopia, loving all who belonged to her.
Now she lay dead in her white coffin, pale with poison. Somewhere, the Dark Prince sat grinning at his efficiency, his swiftness. Somewhere he sat harboring thoughts of greed and desire and evil. Somewhere, he was proud of his gruesome act.
The people wept for Isabella, good, kind Isabella, and for the babe that she left motherless in the human realm. Ileana would grow up as a human, oblivious of her destiny as Elganiel’s next Keeper. She could not be retrieved, custom forbade that she rule until her sixteenth birthday. And so it became that Elganiel would wait for its ruler for sixteen years. They were sixteen wretched, painstakingly long years, filled with destitution and poverty, with hunger and desperation, with rebellions and fires. The country fell to pieces. Their loving empress, second only to the Keeper herself, could do nothing to stop the raging crime and misery that swept through the land.
That was only the beginning. In his black castle, the Dark Prince forged his plan. In a matter of weeks he was able to capture every noble, every sorcerer, and even the empress herself. He collected all the lords and ladies, the prince Nomel (the empress’s son) and every powerful faerie he could find. From there, he proceeded to name himself Keeper. For those long sixteen years, Elganiel would fall apart under his rough hand. He bled the land dry of hope, happiness, and any dreams it had left. And no one could stop him. He was more powerful than the Keeper Isabella had been. No, surely the only thing that could stop the Dark Prince was a god. And all Elganiel had to hope for was a human teenage girl who knew nothing of them.
But there was still a thin ray of light for the people of Elganiel. The Dark Prince had managed to crown himself Keeper, but he held only the title. The Keeper was given supreme power over the entire realm. She could do anything. But the Dark Prince could do nothing save what his natural powers allowed. Thaddeus was strong, but he knew as anyone else that the true Keeper would be stronger. Somewhere in the human realm, Ileana would be waiting impatiently for her sixteenth birthday, not knowing that an entire realm of suffering people were waiting for it as well.

Chapter Two

“One day you will have to do this on your own, Ileana,” Theodore said gently. “I cannot always be here to guide you.”
The girl looked up at him and groaned. “I know, papa, but how can I? It is not right for us to take the lives of the innocent. And just look at it!” Ileana gestured to the young deer grazing in the meadow before them. Theodore and his daughter were hiding behind two thick oaks. Ileana’s bow was poised in her hand and yet she would not let fly the arrow.
“We humans must find a way to survive. This is a way. Now, aim.” Theodore instructed. Ileana did as she was told, and aimed the arrow straight for the deer’s heart. She let go of the arrow with and with a twang it was set free and hit its mark. The deer collapsed into the thick green grass. Theodore smiled at his daughter’s success and was just about to compliment her form when a page ran up to him and handed him a yellowed parchment paper. Theodore’s eyes scanned the page and his smiled turned to a frown.
“What’s happened?” Ileana asked, cocking her head to try and steal a look at the paper. Theodore looked at his daughter as if his heart were breaking.
“The country is at war. I must join the people in fighting for our nation.” He said, as if it were a death sentence. Ileana stared up at him in fear.
“But you have already served the king before!” she exclaimed. “And where am I to go?”
“You’ll go to court. It’s high time you’ve assumed your place as a courtier.” Theodore said. “Soon I’ll be back for you, and we can find you a husband. Win favor with the king and queen, and I’m sure they will provide you a good match.” Ileana opened her mouth in protest, but Theodore silenced her. “That is your duty, my daughter. You must rise above the rest of your family. It is every woman’s mission to find a good husband. And you will not fail.”
“Yes, father.” Ileana said, wisely forcing back her tears. Theodore lifted her face up to him and kissed her cheek.
“Do not worry for me. I’ll be back before next winter, if all goes well.” Theodore gave her one last look, and turned away to collect his things and set off with the king’s men toward battle.
Ileana watched him go, never letting a tear spill from her dark brown eyes. Then she quickly turned her back and fled to the fallen deer, who was breathing unevenly in fear of his approaching death. She knelt beside him, brushing her hand against the wound that she had so cruelly caused. Her hands covered in blood, she swiftly pulled the arrow from the creature’s chest and threw it into the forest. She ripped a length of fabric from her dress and bundled it up to stop the deer’s bleeding. She watched him then, hoping that he would be alright, thinking somewhere in her mind that he would die.
It seemed then that a hand was on her shoulder, helping her, giving her strength. She was sure that she felt that hand, sure that she felt something flow from that hand to hers and into the deer. She then saw the deer rise as if nothing had ever wounded him, as if she hadn’t shot him at all. She stood up beside the deer, and he nudged her hand as if in thanks, then vanished into the oblivion of the forest.
Alone, Ileana looked around her. She was sure that someone had been with her, but who? And how had the deer risen, unhurt and perfectly healed? Had there been anyone there after all? She felt her skin tingle and grew afraid of her own thoughts, as humans often grow afraid of the mysterious and unknown. Ileana wiped the deer’s blood onto her skirts. She gave the meadow one last look, then turned her back to it and headed toward her father’s house.
She was only twelve years old.

Ileana would forget that day, as the adventure’s of childhood vanished and in their place grew new memories of womanhood. She grew up to be a beautiful and intelligent girl, full of grace and swift thinking. The king and queen cherished her as their favorite courtier. Ileana was the queen’s prodigy, having learned French, Spanish, Latin, and Greek, having learned music and being able to play five different instruments, and having a knowledgeable sense of the current fashions. She was witty for a fifteen year old, and loved by everyone that knew her. Other girls at court envied her popularity, yet they could not resist her smile. Her joy was contagious to all. Whenever she entered the room, no one could slip into a foul mood. She was the sun itself.
Her father had not returned. Two years after his parting from her, he was killed in battle. Ileana was fourteen when they told her, and a year later, she still grieved over Theodore’s death. Every night, she would remove the letters he had written her and read through them. Fresh tears would smear the ink on the pages, and the words would be indecipherable if she hadn’t memorized every line. The king and queen sympathized with her grief, and as a gift they gave her Westhall Castle (which was a small country house and not really a castle at all) for her own. She was given permission to remove herself from court and stay there for the summer. She could garden there, and tend to the animals, and keep her own household as if she were a lady, a queen herself. While she was away from court, the king and queen would decide a match for her.
It was a long and happy summer for Ileana. Westhall Castle was a bright and merry summer home, and she was surrounded by people that she knew and loved. Ileana was one of the only courtiers that treated her servants like family and gave them the respect they deserved. She was patient and easy-going, with a steady temper that rarely flared. She was a good mistress to them. The oldest of her household, Mrs. Stanley, was Ileana’s constant companion since infancy. She had been her nurse and had raised her. Ileana had no mother, for she had died while giving birth to her. Mrs. Stanley was the only mother that she had known. She was a large woman of fifty, with wise eyes and a tender heart. She could never refuse Ileana anything, although she despised spoiling her. Ileana was sweet to her nurse, and never disobeyed her.
Mrs. Stanley had noted Ileana’s maturing, her changing body and her growing mind. She saw what everyone failed to notice. Ileana was growing restless. She was at the age of understanding. Ileana saw the nobility and the court for what they were. Before, they had been a wonder to her, something that she was privileged to be a part of. Now, she saw them all as greedy and ambitious. Some aimed too high, others, slid about like a serpent, spying and gossiping. Ileana was unlike them, and hoped always to be. That was why Westhall meant so much to her.
While the court was on progress for the summer, traveling from house to house and lavishing themselves with the season’s finest fruits and devouring gallons of wine, Ileana was tending to her garden at Westhall Castle. She took a walk out onto the hills one day, and from a distance, saw the court as they paraded by, glittering and sparkling in the sun. Her thirteen year old heart would’ve sighed with desire to be with them, but her matured mind now rejected them. She wished only to live in simplicity. For a better part of the summer, Ileana wore only long, white linen dresses. She gardened, rode her horse, and read everyday. She ate lightly and simply, mostly things from the gardens. She was happy. Mrs. Stanley could not ignore Ileana’s happiness, and like the rest of the servants, wished that that summer would never end.
But it did, as do all good things in life. Ileana was reluctant to leave her sparkling home. But, with a forced smile, she laced up her corset, slipped into her fashionable attire, and slid on her expensive French slippers. Her horse was saddled and clothed in its white and gold livery and Ileana’s things were packed up. She mounted her horse, took a sad and long look at Westhall, and set off for Greenwich, where they king and queen now stayed. Ileana knew what awaited her back at court. Not only would there be balls, masques, performances, and feasts, there would be a fiancé waiting for her. Ileana grew afraid of who it may it be. She prayed incessantly that it would be someone kind and caring, who would take good of her. She prayed that it would be someone that she could love.

Chapter Three

“It is with great honor that we present to you your fiancé, George Howard, son of the Earl of York. He will make a fine husband, and you will both live in abundance and bliss.” So proclaimed the queen on the day of Ileana’s return.
“I thank your majesties, and am honored to accept this betrothal”, Ileana said, bent in a curtsey.
George Howard was a fine man, tall and good looking. He was never known to be rude or pompous. But Ileana did not know him. She could not love him, but hoped that she would learn to like him. He only smiled at her, a boy himself really, being only seventeen. He was uncomfortable, that she could tell.
“It’s done then!”, cried the king, “You shall be married within a month’s time. For now, let us feast! We shall be happy if you would sit in places of honor at tonight’s banquet. Think of it as a birthday present for you, Ileana! Now that you are engaged, you may wear matching colors. You must make a good impression on the court, and your families”.
“Yes, your majesty”, George and Ileana said in unison.
They looked at each other, both scared, both nervous, both wondering what in the world their future together would look like.

It was grand banquet, full of dancing and revelry, merriment and laughter. Ileana and George sat in places of honor, near the king and queen. They both wore scarlet and ivory, George’s family colors. The king and queen had given Ileana a new set of writing things for her birthday, for that very night she turned sixteen. The entire attendance smiled at them and many commented that they “were a good match.” Ileana could do nothing but smile back, even though she felt with an increasing dread that she was losing herself, giving up who she was for a marriage that she did not want. This was true, as it was with most women in those days. Hardly were any matches made for love, only for money or position. Ileana knew that the son of an earl was a great marriage, but she did not want it. She missed Westhall already, and could not escape her thoughts of it.
Then she felt it. It was the same feeling she had felt that distant day in the woods, where the deer rose before her after being shot by her arrow. She felt the same energy, the same power. She felt a stare. Someone was watching her. She shivered, and scanned the room desperately, searching for the pair of eyes that must be on her.
And there they were.
It was a man she had never seen before, tall, pale, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He stared at her for what seemed like ages, with an expressionless face. Ileana could not take her eyes from him. Was she under some sort of spell? The feeling was strange to her, for she could not understand what possessed her to continue looking at him. He suddenly turned and rushed from the room, not once looking back at her. He walked away smoothly, but with purpose, as if something dire called for his attention. Ileana excused herself, and followed him.
When Ileana entered the empty hallway, the man was no where in sight. She ran down the hall, peering down every corridor and into every room, but he was no where to be found. Then, she saw a bit of his green tunic disappear down the steps to the gardens. She rushed quickly after him, running to keep up with his fading figure. He led her into the garden furthest from the palace. It was dark, and she could hardly see a thing.
“Hello?”, she called out, “Is someone there?”
There was not a sound. She called again, but still there was silence.
She walked around the garden, feeling her way along the stone wall so that she would not trip over anything. The crickets chirped in the grass, and the moon was small in the starry sky. Then, suddenly, the wall was gone, and she was falling. She screamed, but no sound escaped her throat. Darkness, consumed her and she remembered no more.

Chapter Four

“I can’t believe it’s really she…”
“The day is finally here!”
“She is more beautiful than we imagined.”
Ileana stirred at the voices--strange voices, thick with foreign accents.
“I think she’s waking!”
Indeed, she was. She opened her eyes to a bright light--far too bright--and she gasped and squeezed her lids shut once more. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked, trying to adjust to the light. When she could finally see, she saw a small and thin, tanned face before her. The face had big hazel eyes and freckles. Long brown hair hung beside this face. Ileana connected the face to a body--a woman. She was small and wore her glasses on the tip of her nose. She smiled brilliantly at Ileana, then suddenly dropped to her knees. Ileana began to sit up.
The next woman was taller, though not by much. She was pale, paler than any person Ileana had ever seen before. She had long, sleek black hair that fell in beautiful curls down her back. She had deep violet-colored eyes framed by thick ebony lashes. She smiled slightly, a white fang showing, and sank to her knees gracefully.
The third woman was the tallest of them all and held herself more regally than both of them. Her dark hair was pulled up into a elegant bun. Her deep emerald eyes stared into Ileana--practically to the soul. She had ruby red lips and hardly smiled at all. She had a long and slender neck like a swans, and on her head she bore a crown of silver flowers. She too, dropped to the floor in an elegant curtsey.
By this time, Ileana had grown frightened. She stood and saw that she had been laying on a huge bed, one covered with golden silk and green velvet. She put a hand to her chest and looked back at the women, who were still on the ground, heads bowed as if in prayer. Ileana didn’t know what to say.
“Please, what’s happened?” Ileana asked, sounding more frightened than she intended.
The women rose to their feet. The regal one came toward her, and spoke.
“Welcome, Ileana. We are so grateful that you have come. I am the Empress Annaleasa, at your eternal service.” She bowed her head slightly in respect.
The hazel eyed woman stood next. “My name is Danae, and I am your loyal servant, Ileana. I welcome you.”
Last, the dark haired woman stood. “I am Zennabelle. I welcome you to your kingdom, Ileana.”
They stared at her, obviously expecting her to say something, but what could she say? She stood there, in shock. What did they mean by all of this? It was a dream, it had to be. But it was so real. Ileana pinched her arm once, twice. No, it was no dream. Zennabelle saw the movement and laughed.
“Anna, Ileana is obviously in shock. She thinks this is a dream! Please, tell her what she is doing here!”
The Empress Annaleasa smiled and nodded.
“Ileana, you have been brought here to do something wonderful--to become something wonderful.” She said. Ileana shook her head, not understanding. “You are heir to the throne. You are to be the next Keeper of Elganiel. You will rule over our entire land, protect us and watch over us. You will be given supreme power and sovereignty. We are honored to have you as our ruler, Keeper Ileana.”
Ileana took it in with a surprisingly clear mind, trying to understand. Her first thought was that it wasn’t true. The second, that they chose the wrong girl. She had always underestimated herself, had always been insecure. She was always thinking too little of herself when everyone else thought so highly of her. True, Ileana was from an esteemed family, but blood got her nowhere morally. She felt that she hadn’t ever truly earned anything in her life. She certainly hadn’t earned this.
“I don’t understand,” Ileana began, “Why have you chosen me? Who was that man in the garden? Is he one of you? And where are we?”
Danae smiled at her confusion, amused and said, “We did not choose you, you are sole heir. Your mother was the Keeper Isabella. She died sixteen years ago and we have awaited your arrival for those horrible sixteen years. She left you the throne. The man from the garden is someone that the Empress hired to lead you here, to us. He is one of us. By ‘one of us’ I assume you mean faeries, for that’s what we are. We are in the land of Elganiel, home to our kind for years. You are in another realm, your realm, Ileana.”
Ileana’s brow furrowed, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.
“Your mother was the same way, I’m told.” Zennabelle piped up. “She was also reluctant to accept all of this. But you will, in time. This is your home now.”
“Do not frighten the poor dear, Zenna, you’ll scare her off!” Danae chided.
Zennabelle shrugged and averted her eyes to the floor. The Empress Annaleasa approached Ileana and grasped her shoulders. “Come now, you must rest. More will be revealed to you tonight. A grand feast shall be held in your name! There shall be dancing and music. It will be wonderful! But for now, you must sleep on all that you have heard.”
She gestured back to the bed that Ileana had just woken from, and Ileana obediently laid down. The three women ushered out of the room silently, their long gowns brushing against the stone floor. Ileana stared at the wall and looked very much like a woman possessed. She couldn’t believe it. She did not trust any of it. Yet, they had mentioned her mother. Was it true?
Her eyelids grew heavy and she found she was fighting to stay awake. After a while, she let sleep come, and dreamt of her mother, bedecked in pearls and emeralds and swathed in cloth-of-gold, surrounded by faeries. Everywhere were smiles, everywhere was joy.