Heroic Bridges
I understood why the capital was named Heroic Bridges even before we reached the city: the entire place seemed like a sprawling network of enormous bridges. I had read a little about this unique architectural feature of Mixteya’s capital. Initially, the city was built with ordinary houses, typical of any settlement. But as it expanded both outward and upward, it became apparent that the land beneath was peculiar. The soil in Heroic Bridges was sensitive to magic! And since every other person here possessed magical abilities, the concentration of magical currents and fluctuations in populated areas was enough to alter the ground beneath the capital. At times, it turned swampy, and buildings would sink into the quagmire almost up to their rooftops. At other times, the earth would heave upward, causing houses to collapse, split in half, crack, or shatter entirely...
This became a major problem for the capital, which was then called Turmana. So, mages and architects devised an ingenious solution. They constructed massive, truly gigantic bridges in place of conventional buildings. These bridges were built to last for centuries: made of sturdy stone, reinforced with magically crafted connectors, and imbued with numerous artifacts and magical building materials to ensure stability and longevity.
Of course, this wasn’t achieved in a single year, or even a single decade. But now, the entire capital rests on these bridges. Every street in the city is extraordinarily long, starting at one edge of the capital and stretching all the way to the opposite side. These wide bridge-streets are lined with buildings on both sides of the central roadway, where the citizens live. Can you imagine how broad and strong these bridges must be?! There are six such colossal bridges spanning from one end of the city to the other, forming giant arches that hover over the ground and the old, mostly ruined and abandoned part of the city. Together, they create a sort of architectural hemisphere... There are also many smaller bridges, though they aren’t as impressive as the grand primary ones. Atop the highest bridge, aptly named the Royal Bridge, the royal palace looms over the capital right in the center.
It’s not as large or ostentatious as the palace in our kingdom, but it’s still quite beautiful. Naturally, a bridge can’t bear excessive weight, but the local mages must have accounted for everything to prevent the structure from collapsing under the massive building, designing a palace suited to such conditions.
It was to this royal palace that our carriage pulled up. I promised myself that if I had the time and opportunity, I would definitely explore Mixteya’s capital and take a closer look at everything. It’s so unusual and fascinating here. Reading about it is one thing, but seeing it with my own eyes is entirely another.
As for why the capital came to be called Heroic Bridges, it dates back to an ancient war with nomadic tribes who came from the south intent on capturing Mixteya’s capital. They failed, as the narrow bridges provided excellent defense for the inhabitants: the enemy couldn’t enter the city via the bridges, which were barricaded and rigged with magical traps right at the outskirts of these strange streets. The invaders returned home empty-handed, and the war ended. From then on, the capital was named Heroic Bridges, for these architectural marvels truly were heroes, protecting the citizens from their foes.
Although my guards had sent a magical bird to the royal palace of Mixteya with news of my arrival today, no one was there to greet us. The sentries at the entrance exchanged odd glances upon hearing my name and the purpose of my visit, then summoned a man—either a footman or some errand boy... He led me and my maids through the palace corridors to the quarters assigned to me.
Strange, such an unusual reception. It felt as though I was being treated like some random guest rather than the betrothed of the prince, the future king. Perhaps this was their custom. I didn’t let it faze me, walking with my head held high, my steps deliberate. They wouldn’t see me fretting over the Mixteyans’ lack of proper etiquette! I couldn’t care less! I wasn’t planning to stay here long anyway!
The servant escorted us to richly furnished, elegant apartments and took his leave. However, he mentioned that Prince Jonathan-White would soon come to meet me.
My maids began unpacking my belongings into the wardrobes and shelves, preparing to head to their own room on the first floor, where the staff quarters were located.
I approached the window, gazing out at the unfamiliar vista: there were so many bridges, each one different!
"Get out!" I suddenly heard behind me.
It turned out that while I was distracted, a tall young man had entered my chambers. He wore a white doublet, white trousers, and boots. His dark, wavy hair fell to his shoulders, and his brown eyes pierced through me with a mocking glint. He was devilishly handsome! Like a character straight out of a romance novel. I couldn’t help but admire his chiseled features: a straight nose, sharp black eyebrows, strong, angular cheekbones, a well-defined mouth... And his physique was impressive too: broad shoulders, with muscles likely well-defined beneath that doublet...
The man barked at my maids, and they scurried out of the room as if scalded.
I stared at him in surprise as he walked to the door and locked it from the inside. Then he approached me, stopping almost nose-to-nose.
"So, this is you, Edelina-Gray," he drawled, inspecting me up close. "Pretty little thing. Nice chest," he said brazenly, his eyes lingering on my neckline. It wasn’t particularly deep, but the hint of cleavage was visible. "And a tempting figure, quite delectable..."
He licked his lips and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
"Who are you?" I asked.
I wasn’t so much shocked or outraged by his behavior—since I’d guessed this was likely my so-called betrothed—but I didn’t appreciate his audacity. Ugh, it seemed like they hadn’t heard of good manners here in Mixteya!
"I... Uh... Guess for yourself!" he grinned, baring his teeth. "I’ll give you a hint: I’m His Highness," he said, bursting into laughter as if he’d made a brilliant joke.
I figured as much—this had to be Jonathan-White! Look at him, all in white, practically blinding! While I pondered the prince’s odd and uncivilized behavior, he suddenly crouched down and... lifted my skirt above my knees! He stroked my knee with a warm hand. I was so stunned I didn’t know what to do!
"And nice legs too," he drawled, caressing my left calf.
Snapping out of my shock, I jumped back like a startled rabbit, yanking the hem of my dress from his grasping fingers and tugging it down to cover my legs, mortified.
"What are you doing?! You insolent man!" I cried, unsure how to handle such a situation. This was a first for me! No one had ever ogled me so brazenly, let alone touched my legs!
"Oh, so you’ve got some fire in you?" The prince stood up and gripped my shoulders tightly. "I like that! Feisty! Fresh! I’m bored of the usual ones—and here’s such a tempting, sweet little morsel!"
And then, out of nowhere, he pressed his lips to mine, kissing me forcefully while holding me close with strong hands. I couldn’t even squeak.
Prince Jonathan-White
I started to struggle, trying to break free. Anger surged within me like a fiery knot: how dare he? We weren’t even married yet!
The prince broke off his rough, aggressive kiss, and I managed to gasp out in fury:
"Let me go, right now! We’re not even married, and you behave like this! There should be boundaries! I demand proper respect and decent behavior!"
"Whoa! Looks like there’s even a spark of intelligence in you! Silly girl, today I’ll only kiss! But after the wedding—oh, there’ll be much more madness from me!"
He latched onto my neck now, eagerly kissing my collarbone, moving lower toward my chest. With one hand, the scoundrel caressed my breasts, while the other grabbed my backside!
"Ugh! Like an animal! Like some wild beast!" I thought to myself.
I’ll admit, the kisses from this stranger—my supposed fiancé—did stir something in me, but I was seeing him for the first time! Even if he was my betrothed, to pounce on a woman the moment you meet her? What a pervert!
"Let go of me right now," I snapped, dropping to an informal tone. "I’ll scream! You don’t want the servants spreading ridiculous gossip, do you?!"
"Oh, no need for that, sweetheart," the man lifted his head from my chest. "And to keep you from screaming—here!"
He pressed his lips to mine again, this time for longer. Then, suddenly, he pushed me toward the bed nearby, and we tumbled onto the white sheets: him on top, me pinned beneath his strong body. And he didn’t break the kiss even then.
I was losing the strength to resist, and Jonathan-White had already started hiking up my dress, stroking my legs and thighs, his hands wandering where they shouldn’t.
Oh, I was so furious, you can’t imagine! I focused my magical energy into a hot, prickly burst and was ready to strike him hard. I just hesitated, debating where to aim: his head, his eyes, his mouth, or somewhere else, a rather... significant spot for a man?
The prince was lucky I didn’t maim him, because at that moment, someone began pounding on the door loudly and insistently, nearly breaking it down.
"Edelina-Gray, open up right now! What’s going on in there?! It’s me, your fiancé, Prince Jonathan-White! Open the door immediately!"
Oh no, what was this? Then who was this man?! Could it be...?
The man pinning me to the bed suddenly stopped his kisses and roaming hands, reluctantly got off me—frozen as I was with a horrifying realization—gave me a lustful look, patted my exposed knee, and calmly walked to the door to open it.
I scrambled up in a frenzy, trying to fix my appearance.
The prince opened the door and grinned widely at his mirror image standing in the doorway:
"She’s a tasty little thing, Jo, but feisty, the wretch!" he laughed right in his brother’s face.
His brother, the real Prince Jonathan-White, boiled with rage:
"You scoundrel! Don’t you dare come near her! Get out, I need to speak with my fiancée!"
Jonathan-Black, as it clearly was him despite being dressed all in white, laughed mockingly in his brother’s face. Then he turned to me and said:
"Remember, darling, what I promised: there’ll be even more madness!"
He roughly shoved his brother in the shoulder, pushing him aside, and strode off.
Prince Jonathan-White entered the room with a grim expression.
Oh, what just happened? How could this be? Did the princes really share women? Was I to be not only the wife of the White but also share a bed with the Black?
I glared at the prince, my fiancé, in outrage.
"This is outrageous! Your brother! He! He! How could this happen?! The audacity!" I was so angry I could barely find the words.
The magic still swirling within me, concentrated and ready, burst outward and struck the door behind the real Jonathan-White, narrowly missing his temple. A little closer, and the prince would have been dead! Good thing I deliberately aimed off. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong to me. And I had come here intending to warn him of an assassination attempt, not to kill him myself.
The prince didn’t even flinch. He regarded me calmly and darkly, leaning on a cane. Once some of my fury and anger dissipated with the burst of magic, I could think more rationally. I noticed that Jonathan-White, though a twin to the scoundrel who had just kissed me, was quite different from him.
For one, Jonathan-White had a disability. Or rather, he relied on a cane to walk, limping, which suggested an issue with his leg. Secondly, his hair was tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Though it was just as black as his brother’s, the hairstyle completely altered his appearance.
"What did he do?" the prince asked grimly. "Pretended to be me? Get used to it. This will happen often."
Jonathan-White stepped closer and inclined his head.
"Greetings. I am Jonathan-White, the first prince of the kingdom of Mixteya. And, unfortunately, your betrothed. Unfortunately for me, as I am forced to marry you due to circumstances and my father’s demand."
"Wonderful!" I exclaimed. "Just like you, I have no desire to marry you! So why don’t we just annul the contract and part ways peacefully?"
"I’m afraid we can’t do that," the man shook his head. "My father is on his deathbed, and he made me promise to marry a princess from Ferania—that is, you. That’s the first reason. Secondly, I don’t need you as a woman. I have plenty of willing partners eager to jump into my bed. So don’t worry about your virtue. If, of course, it’s still intact. I don’t take women by force. I... I love another woman, whom, unfortunately, I cannot marry. Unless my brother... He loves anything new. I see you’ve already gotten acquainted," he said with a grimace.
I nearly choked with indignation.
"How dare you say such things to me! This is unacceptable! I’ve heard that things at your court are a mess, but to this extent!"
"Your Highness, I’m laying all my cards on the table and being honest with you," the prince said darkly, walking to a chair and sitting down heavily, placing his cane beside him before continuing. "The marriage will be formalized tomorrow. There won’t be a wedding, just a celebratory dinner. You will live here, in these apartments. I heard you arrived with your own maids... You may keep them, or you can choose a few more—the steward will present candidates from the royal staff. Since you will officially be considered my wife, I ask that you at least publicly adhere to proper behavior and etiquette. I will do the same. By tradition, married couples always dine together, so dinners will be ours. The rest of the time, you are free. Within the palace walls."
"Free within the palace? That’s a veritable prison! What, I can’t go outside? If, for instance, I want to stroll through the city?" Anger surged within me. Of course, I wasn’t prepared to tolerate this: I had no intention of sitting here like a caged bird.
"Only with my escort," the prince glanced at me. "And I rarely go out."
"I don’t like this! Not only was my carriage not met by anyone, not only did your brother assault me like some deviant, but now I’m also given the dubious status of either a slave or a prisoner!" My vision darkened with rage.
"The contract is signed; I can’t offer you anything else," Jonathan-White said with a sardonic smile. "You could have warned us of your arrival. I would have met you. The steward only informed me about it ten minutes ago by chance. I’m just as shocked and displeased with your behavior..."
"What?!" I was at a loss for words from sheer indignation. "This morning, my guard sent a magical bird with a message that I had crossed the Mixteyan border! Did you receive the notification?"
"No," the prince said slowly. "Is that true?"
He looked at me thoughtfully, likely harboring some unpleasant suspicions. He sighed, stood up, and said:
"I’ll look into it now. If this is indeed the case, I will offer my apologies."
The man took his cane, leaning on it as he headed for the door.
"Nevertheless, you now reside in our royal palace, and tomorrow you will become a Mixteyan, so behave appropriately. And," he hesitated, "try not to start a romance with my brother in full view of the courtiers and servants. I’ll have the door replaced."
He stepped out and walked away. I wanted to retort, to assure him I had no intention of doing so, that his brother was repulsive with his lustful advances, but by the time I gathered my thoughts, the prince was already gone.
And only later did I realize I had forgotten to warn Jonathan-White about the assassination plot against his life.
"Army" of Servants
"Your Highness," Karena-White’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. "The steward requests permission to bring in the maids."
It turned out my maids had returned, hovering timidly by the threshold, casting wary glances at the door I’d blasted with a magical bolt. They knew from my time at home that I could be hot-tempered and wild, and in such moments, it was best not to provoke me, as I might do something rash under the heat of anger. Not in the sense of harming anyone—I was too level-headed and perhaps overly kind for that—but in the sense that I could cause a small earthquake in a section of the royal palace: break furniture in a fit of rage, flood an entire floor with water, or unleash such gales in the corridors that no one could stay on their feet... These were real incidents that had happened...
After Jonathan-White left, I sank into deep thought. I didn’t like that he was restricting my freedom. Marriage tomorrow? That’s what he thinks. As soon as he returns, I’ll tell him about the assassination attempt, everything I heard and saw at the tavern—and then I’ll escape! Or at least, I’ll try! There’s no way I can’t get out of this palace! I have my magic with me! And it—meaning me, meaning us together—can work wonders!
As promised, the prince sent servants for me to choose from. In principle, my Karenas were more than enough for me. They already knew me well and understood me with half a word. But on the other hand, I needed my own people in the palace. What if I couldn’t escape? That’s unlikely, of course, since I’m determined! But there’s always a sliver of doubt. In that case, I’d need to build new connections, learn about everyone and everything, to... plan another escape!
Obviously, the servants they wanted to introduce to me were all locals and would report on my every move to whoever needed to know. That’s how it works in royal palaces. But! If you pay more, they’ll serve you too. I needed to take a look at these servants.
I approached the mirror and glanced at my reflection. My flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips still bore the traces of Jonathan-Black’s wild visit. I could still feel his lips on mine. What a creep! How dare he kiss me without my permission! Though now, replaying the scene in my mind, I found it almost amusing. He behaved either like a desperate man who hadn’t been with a woman in ages or... like someone deliberately acting this way to spite his brother. And that, most likely, was closer to the truth.
"Yes, invite the steward!" I waved to my maids.
A tall, elderly man entered the chambers, dressed in a striking red livery embroidered with golden patterns, paired with matching red trousers. Behind him trailed a procession of servants. There were six in total: three pairs of twins.
The first to catch my eye were two young women, short and plump, with fiery red hair styled in amusing curly ringlets atop their heads. Despite their attempts to pin their hair back with white lace headbands typical of maids, their vibrant locks spilled over their shoulders in a wild halo, sticking out in every direction. Freckles dusted their faces, and their yellow eyes gave them the appearance of little domestic sunbeams. I recognized them as belonging to the Sori people, who lived in the northern reaches of Mixteya. Everyone from that region was petite and remarkably red-haired.
The second pair consisted of two teenage boys who tried to carry themselves with dignity, though their curious gazes darted around the room, lingering especially on the hole I’d blasted in the door.
The third pair of servants were two dignified women who didn’t look like staff at all, but rather like noble ladies visiting the prince. They were well-dressed and possessed impeccable manners. They must have worked in the palace for a long time and likely knew a great deal.
"Your Highness," the steward bowed, "my name is Klin Homer, and I am the steward of the royal palace." The man was tall and sturdy, his words delivered with a dry precision, and I even detected a hint of disdain in his glance as he looked at me. "His Highness Jonathan-White has instructed me to present these servants to you. They will assist you in anything you command. Furthermore, they will make your stay with us more..." He paused, searching for the right word before settling on, "more refined and courteous."
One of the red-haired maids giggled, blushed, and lowered her head, clearly startled by her own outburst. The steward shot her a withering look but said nothing.
"These are Lady Termantia-White and Termantia-Black," he gestured toward the dignified women, looking at them with approval; he clearly favored them. "They are excellent chambermaids and will assist you with clothing and jewelry."
I nodded, and both women curtsied gracefully.
"These two maids are Mirabela-White and Mirabela-Black. They handle cleaning, assist with bathing, and style hair."
I nodded again. The girls curtsied politely, their red hair bouncing like a fluffy halo around their smiling faces. They were quite charming and amusing, likely cheerful as well.
"And these are the young pages, Frederick-White and Frederick-Black. They will carry out minor errands, help with moving items, and perform any other tasks you assign, I hope, flawlessly," the steward said sternly, giving the teenagers a pointed look. They nodded eagerly, then bowed their heads to me.
I nodded in return and replied:
"A pleasure to meet you. I, too, hope that your servants will perform their duties diligently. Do I need to choose from among the staff presented?"
The steward looked surprised.
"Not at all! All of these servants are yours. Prince Jonathan-White has ordered them to be at your service."
Oh, really now? I was taken aback. My Karenas were more than enough for me, especially since I valued solitude, so they were rarely burdened with much work. But perhaps in the Mixteyan palace, it was customary to have a large retinue of servants? As I mulled this over, the steward added:
"As the future wife of Prince Jonathan-White and future queen, you must have at least ten servants. After the wedding, I will send more of our staff to assist you."
"Thank you," I said. "For now, everyone may be dismissed. If I require your services, I will call for you."
The entire group, including my Karenas, filed out of the room. The steward, remaining behind, spoke:
"There is a magical panel on the wall. By speaking a servant’s name into it, you can summon them," he pointed to something behind me. "And also, this is for you," he extended a delicate bracelet adorned with four colorful gemstones. "Each stone summons a specific set of servants," the steward explained. "Red for the Ladies Termantia, yellow for the Misses Mirabela, green for the young Fredericks, and white for your Karenas. They are now under my supervision as well."
"Thank you, Mr. Homer," I nodded, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. "You’ve organized everything splendidly! I hope your staff is as impeccable as your manners and professionalism. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such well-trained personnel."
The steward perked up. My praise clearly pleased him. He even began to look at me with a measure of respect.
"Lunch will be served in an hour in the White Hall. You will be summoned, Your Highness!" The steward was the epitome of courtesy as he bowed and exited.
Well, well! They’ve assigned me an entire army of servants! Hmm. I’ll figure out how to handle this.
Later, two carpenters and a weary mage in a red robe arrived. Together, they began replacing the door. To avoid their chatter and the constant curious glances, I decided to take a short walk around the palace. After all, no one had explicitly told me to stay confined to my chambers. And honestly, even if they had, I wouldn’t have listened. I wandered through the corridors, finding everything here intriguing.