Continuing the fairy tale I wrote in Czech and am translating into English for fun. If you want to start from the beginning, all the previous parts are here: The Proud Princess and the Masked Mage. Otherwise maybe you can just jump in with part 4 here lol–>
IN THE PREVIOUS INSTALLMENT:
The deep voice of the man in the golden mask echoed throughout the hall. “It did not happen under the light of day. But at night, the bargain was struck.” He stepped closer to Princess Damarishka. “The bargain for—”
DUN DUN DUN! The continuation:
At this point, Damarishka’s proud cat hissed and hoisted himself off the pillow where he’d been lording over his purr. His hackles prickled, the hair on his back standing on end.
The stranger didn’t give the cat the light of day—or even the light of his eye. He continued to intone to Damarishka: “Your father’s greed sprawled beyond his capacity to obtain. Discontented with the kingdom and the riches he already owned, he sneaked out every night and rode to me, where he tempted his fate. He rolled the dice and played a dangerous game to gain more lands, more gold. He bet high and lost more. Everything fell to me; he was hopelessly in my debt. But,” the masked stranger’s eyes shone like hungry falcons sweeping the sky, “he wept, so heartrendingly forlorn that I pitied him. And so, kind as I am—”
At this, Damarishka, who had resorted to trying to soothe her ruffled cat with distracted pats, outright snorted. “Kind!”
“—or greedy as I am,” the stranger continued, with his smile crooking into mockery, “I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. I swore to give him everything back if he gave me the one thing I want. He agreed. He traded you for his kingdom and all his riches.” In the light of the chandeliers, his golden mask glittered as if encrusted with jewels and malice.
“I don’t believe you,” Damarishka whispered (what else could one whisper at such an unbelievable allegation? It was what she must whisper).
The man extracted a curled scroll from the folds of his cloak. “Do you believe this?”
Lips pursed, Damarishka deigned to lean forward and squint at the print.
It was, indeed, a contract for the return of her father’s kingdom and riches… in exchange for the one asset he hadn’t yet bartered away: his daughter. And her father’s signature looped undeniably at the end of the document.
Damarishka struck the scroll. “You forged this!”
“Regrettably, that goes against the laws of magic.” The masked stranger, with a single flick, rolled the scroll back up and reinserted it into the folds of his cape. “It is very real. I won you fairly in a reprehensible way.”
Damarishka’s fingers clenched, and the cat, being petted by those fingers, yowled.
The masked suitor’s smile spread like toxin from a spilled vial. “He bargained you away so he could save everything else.”
“So I am to be a sacrifice.”
“A fascinating interpretation. Maybe I’m saving you by taking you away.”
“How?”
“Because you know nothing of the outside world.”
“Ha! I know there are trees.”
No. That had come out wrong. Even her proud cat looked embarrassed. He covered his eyes with his paw.
Damarishka sniffed. (One can often save face with a timely sniff.)
The masked intruder inclined his head, his gaze swooping over her again like a hungry falcon. “There are trees. Who am I to argue with such an immutable fact?”
“Who are you at all?” Damarishka spat, striving to iron out her growing fear.
He stilled. “Is that an insult?” he inquired painfully politely. “Implying I am nobody at all? Or do you really want to know?”
She did want to know; she was too proud to stoop to insulting people when those worth insulting invariably insulted themselves.
But the panic inside her was completely dismantling any reply. She couldn’t marry a man not a prince, no matter who he was. Her mother’s urgent words echoed like doom. Damarishka had to marry a fair man, one without magic, and she had to be content. Be normal. Stay hidden.
This wizard was anything but normal or hidden. He was dark and magical, everything Mother had warned her against.
Maybe he was lying about her father’s contract, though. Maybe he wouldn’t really make Damarishka marry him.
And would Damarishka let him make her if he did? She had always rigorously bowed to royal responsibility, and weddings were one of them.
And already she knew she could never become one of those dark princesses who killed off their monstrous husbands. All the blood that murder required! Mouths foaming from poison!
If only he didn’t look so dangerously impossible to refuse, with hair that curved across his chin like night-dark scythes and a gaze that bored into her as if trying to pull out all every single one of her inappropriate wants.
Her next query tumbled desperately out. “At least show me your face!” Maybe, behind the mask, he would be desperately ugly.
But after he promptly complied, removing his mask in an undeniably elegant motion, Damarishka went weak.
This was worse than she could have imagined.
DUN DUN DUN! The next part is here!
FREAKING LIFE UPDATES! I discovered the herb I was taking for my anxiety was making me MORE ANXIOUS! And agitated! Dear God, the agitation! I got to the point of hardly being able to calm down for more than seconds at a time. All my focus flew into trying to calm the next agitated thought. I was pacing the flat or troubleshooting potential disasters every second. Combine that with anxiety and UGH! I’ve stopped taking the supplement, of course, but it takes 2-3 weeks for the cumulative effects to wear off! In the meantime, I’ve taped up all the windows in my flat. I open some at strategic times of the day so my cat can have sunlight while I hide from it. I’ve done a dozen weirder things this week that I don’t want to get into. I am counting the days before this stupidity is out of my system and I am CALM AGAIN! (or at least saner, if that exists)
I did get this blog post done, but I have failed to eat. Why can’t nutrients just fly into my body? While I focus in important things? And I have to hydrate, ugh! In the meantime, my cat lies neglected on the bed.
Due to the aforementioned agitation, editing Heiress of Secrets has fallen by the wayside. Hopefully just temporarily! I started editing a luscious dark fairy tale since it’s shorter and am thinking of publishing it in secret under a name no one knows.
In other news, I found the image below in my documents folder. The file is called “What happens when I fall asleep at my desk”:
I have been unable to find the phrase ‘long-haired severed head’ in any of the text files I’ve searched. The mystery of what that belonged to might never be solved.
Also, I’m meeting with other people who want to save the world in a few weeks. I’ll try to let you know how that goes.
Y’all, I must go eat! I hope you are all being kind to everyone this week, since you never know what battles people are having.
Thrice the Shadow. (I feel like I should come up with a meaning for that by now, but I’m not feeling it today. Maybe next century.)
Videos! Only two on tikTok this week. Neither did very well but whateverrrr. Agitation, y’all, sucks.
- read my books and yell about how great they are EVERYWHERE lol
- OR sign up to my ARC list if it’s still open at the bottom of this page
- OR if you want to throw money at me, you can ‘buy me a coffee’ via buy me a coffee
- OR support me regularly via the patreon (though I never post anything there cuz I suuuuuuuuck). However, the funds from this regularly feed me when I run out of money, so if you want to help me financially, this is probably the best way.
When I was twenty-two, I ran away to Prague, where I now sing to my black cat (who collects dustballs in her whiskers), eat chocolate for breakfast, and have lemon tarts every Thursday.
Sonya Lano 
[…] DUN DUN DUN! The next part is here. […]