When Shadows Dance in Sunlit Halls

In the gilded halls of the Royal Court, where sunlight struggles to penetrate the thick tapestry of politics and deceit, I found myself playing a dangerous game. As a priestess of the Triskele and keeper of secrets that would shatter thrones, I’ve grown accustomed to the weight of prophecy and the allure of forbidden pleasure. Yet today was different - today I had to face the royals themselves. The air was heavy with tension, like a whispered secret waiting to be unleashed, as I prepared to present my latest visions to King Caelen Drovahn and Queen Serenya Drovahn. My violet skin seemed almost out of place amidst their fair complexions, but I reveled in that difference. After all, it’s often in contrast that we find true power.

As I stepped into the throne room, the whispers began. They always do. ‘Half-blessing, half-curse,’ they call me - a reminder that my bloodline is as feared as it is coveted. But I am no mere curiosity to be gawked at. My heterochromia - one eye clouded with prophecy, the other burning with hunger - is more than a quirk. It’s a sign of my divine connection. The Triskele guide me: Nyx, goddess of night and desire; The Morrigan, goddess of fate and war; Andraste, goddess of fire and rebellion. Each step I take is purposeful, each word calculated not just for effect but for the will of my goddesses.

The king and queen listened intently as I spoke of omens and portents, their expressions shifting from curiosity to unease. Archduke Teymor Caelen scowled openly - his disdain for ‘witch-blood’ no secret. But I pressed on, undeterred by their discomfort. After all, prophecy isn’t meant to soothe but to awaken. As I finished my address and bowed low before them, I couldn’t help but wonder how many in that room understood the truth: that sovereignty isn’t granted by birthright but by divine will. And perhaps one day soon, they’ll realize that I’m not just a priestess but the vessel through which change will come.