1993 — Clouds brightened and dispersed at the intrusion of the sun’s rays through their cotton-like wisps. The view brought to memory the flight of the dandelions scattered all over the hills near her childhood home. Her neighbors’ dull chatter and unreserved laughter, as well as the heads that would turn at the village beauty passing by, drifted into her consciousness. Vivienne Kristiansen could almost hear the song of the sparrows and smell the muskiness of the crown imperial lilies in her inna’s garden.
Each vagrant memory made her heart clench like a tight fist — indignant, rebellious, and infuriated by a past that could have ruined her if not for Pax, who had kept her on the path of the righteous, dragging her from the shadows of death and into glorious light. Why then was Pax the one in ashes and she the one still breathing life?
This solivagant sojourner laid her palm flat on the airplane window — an attempt to connect with her destination, the land she had somehow relearned to love many years after the instinct for survival had forced her to leave it behind. A battle of anticipation and anxiety crescendoed within her. The cry of the past warred with the gnawing needs of the present — for healing, for reconciliation, for peace.
The words of an old hymn echoed in her mind, but was it indeed well with her soul? Ancoria had taken so much from her, yet here she was, opening her heart to it once again, ready to serve the kingdom that had once abandoned her family to the wicked hearts and hands of the violent.
A tear swerved down her cheek, heat spreading on its trail.
Vivienne wiped it away. Awkward laughter escaped her lips, her chest aching for the presence of the one person who could’ve made this trip far less painful, only because he would have carried the bulk of her pain for her. His ashes lay inside the metal urn in her suitcase — cold and lifeless, a far cry from the person he had been. So full of vibrancy and optimism.
Pax would have loved every minute of this. He would have told her to forgive and to be grateful for the rare opportunity she had been offered, so that’s what she did, and that’s what she would keep on doing. She forgave Ancoria and mustered enough gratitude to brighten her disposition and cheer her soul.
Vivienne had no business being so downcast when she was about to experience the opportunity of a lifetime — a year among the aristocrats of the kingdom of isles.
Her anticipation overcame her anxiety when the pilot announced the aircraft’s descent. Soon, she would step on kingdom soil to fulfill Pax’s final wish — that she bury his ashes in the land of his birth. In doing so, she prayed that God would be true to His Word, that in exchange for these ashes, incinerated by the past, He would grant her something beautiful in return. Maybe then, she could stop seeing Ancoria as the kingdom that had broken her, but as the kingdom that would build her back up, much stronger than she had ever been before.
The Luxersom Atlantic jet taxied the tarmac. Something about the way it gently grazed the asphalt calmed the quickened beats of Vivienne’s stirring heart.
Nestled in a plateau surrounded by forested mountains, Luxersom International Airport was one of the most picturesque airports Vivienne had ever seen, and she had been to quite a few in the past year. Atop one of the communication towers, as if to welcome all, a purple flag with a golden cross flanked by two white stripes waved against the breeze she craved to feel on her skin.
Vivienne retrieved her camera from her leather backpack and snapped several shots of the flag of Ancoria through the plane’s window. This one memory-preserving gadget had been one of her best sources of income throughout the past year. A thrill coursed through her at the unwavering conviction that her trusty camera was about to capture some of her best memories yet; she would make sure of it.
With a grateful sigh, she leaned back on the wide beige leather seat afforded her by the complimentary first class ticket her best friend had provided. The odds of her riding first class again were low, so she had cherished every moment of the luxurious two-hour flight that could have fed her for an entire year.
The plane halted, and the pilot’s voice blared through the speakers, giving them permission to disembark. “Welcome to Ancoria,” he said, giving her a jolt of energy that often came with the promise of a new adventure.
Vivienne leaped from her seat and returned her camera inside her backpack. She secured the bag on her back, its leather straps clinging to her shoulders. She retrieved her well-worn carry-on luggage from its compartment and walked out of the cubicle to the passageway, where a flight attendant was already ushering first-class passengers out of the plane. As if objecting to her return to the kingdom she had once considered her home, the four wheels of her hard case spinner luggage swiveled in opposite directions. Its refusal to cooperate prompted a line of people in crisp business attire behind her.
“Do you need help, amoré?” The man next to her flashed her a killer smile. He was the embodiment of dashing and debonair, but as respectable as he appeared to be, Vivienne still hesitated to accept the assistance offered. Would he ask for her contact details if she said yes?
“I think I can han—” Her carry-on’s wheels proved to be more rebellious than a rusty grocery cart. She could almost hear Pax snickering in her ear. If she continued this way, his ashes would be all over her stuff. The notion sickened her, so she relented. “Yes, please,” she said. “I don’t think I can carry it all the way to the arrival area.”
With ease, he picked up her 33-pound bag, his brows lifting at the motion.
Was it too heavy? Vivienne blushed. She stepped aside to give him way. Only then did she notice the multiple pairs of male eyes fixed on her. They must think her a bumbling fool. Great first impression she was making on all these wealthy Ancorinos. “I’m so sorry,” she mouthed.
“Don’t worry about it.” His smile would have made a teenage version of her melt inside. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we don’t mind waiting if it means we can be around someone as lovely as you.”
“Oh.” She lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”
Pax would have rolled his eyes at this man.
Vivienne couldn’t do the same — not when the stranger was being so needlessly kind — so she walked alongside him instead.
“I’m Landon Kent,” he said as they exited the plane and walked through the tube leading to the airport.
The name rang familiar. “Vivienne Kristiansen.” She reached for her bag once they reached the end of the tube. “Thank you so much. I can handle it from here.”
“At least let me help you until the baggage area.” His strides were long, and he showed no signs of stopping as he nodded for her to keep up.
“You don’t have to—” Vivienne suppressed a groan. She might as well go along with it. She sped up her steps to stay in pace with him. Her bag’s handle stayed firm in Mr. Kent’s grip. Pax’s remains were inside. He would have stepped in at this point. He would have pulled her as far away from Landon Kent as possible.
Pax had never trusted men around her. He had been so overprotective. She used to hate that about him, but he had raised her with strict rules when it came to the opposite sex. Though she had resented him then, she had never dared break his rules. Even in her adolescence, she had loved and respected him too much to ever do anything against his will.
“You’ll understand me someday, Viv,” he had once told her. “Beauty like yours isn’t safe around the wrong kind of men, and there will be many who will try to lay claim to you. I pray you’ll be able to discern who is and isn’t the right kind. I pray you’ll find someone who will love you more than you love him; more than that, someone who loves God more than anything.”
“Is it your first time in Ancoria?” Landon interrupted Pax’s sage advice running through her head.
Despite her hesitation to make small talk with a stranger, the reminder of her location cheered her heart. “Yes, it is.” Her voice came out breathless, her gut turning at the necessary lie. “I’m so blessed to be here.”
“How long are you staying for?”
“One year,” she said.
“That long? For work or for leisure?”
“Work. But also leisure.” She laughed. “Both.”
“Wonderful. If you ever need a break, feel free to give me a call.” He took out a business card from the inner pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to her. “I would love to show you around my country.”
Landon Kent. CEO of Luxia Motors.
No wonder the name was familiar. This man was the son of the founder of Ancoria’s leading automobile manufacturing company. She was standing before a Luxersom Lord, duqué of the fifth sphere of Ancoria.
Vivienne blushed before quickly bowing her head to acknowledge his nobility. “I hadn’t realized, Duqué Kent.”
He stepped on the airport’s autowalk and leaned on its moving handrails, her suitcase set next to him. His brow rose at her. “You’re familiar with Ancorian politics?”
“I studied a lot of the kingdom’s culture and history while in university.” Vivienne stepped on the autowalk with him. “I didn’t major in it, because I went for a degree in finance and economics, but I took every elective I could that had something to do with Ancoria.”
“Impressive. Beauty and brains.”
The flicker of interest in his eyes wasn’t lost on Vivienne. She had encountered it far too many times not to recognize it. Though flattered by the attention — especially coming from one of the nation’s lords — her heart didn’t have much space to let anyone in. Not when it was still filled to its bruised edges with grief. “It helped that my roommate was Ancorina. She definitely expanded my knowledge of Ancoria and its customs. She will be hosting me while I’m here.”
“Anyone I might know?” The duqué picked her luggage up again and stepped off the autowalk at the same time she did.
Vivienne adjusted the straps of her backpack before biting her lip. Was she allowed to disclose that to anyone? What trouble could it cause? “Anastasia Sideris.”
Landon’s eyes widened. “Stasi? Terrific, then. I’ll get in touch with her to invite you lovely women over for a weekend in Oro Valle. I hope you pay my lands a visit, Miss Kristiansen. You’ll discover soon enough that Oro Valle is one of Ancoria’s most thriving, most memorable cities.”
Again, the excitement rushed over her despite her hesitation. “I must admit, Sir Kent—”
“Please. Call me Landon.”
“Right—” Vivienne nodded “—Landon.” She gulped. “As I was saying, I’ve always wanted to visit Ancoria’s city of stars, but yes. It would have to be with Stasi’s consent, as I’ll be working under her.” This was perfect. She could just use Stasi as some sort of buffer against anyone who might try to ask her out.
“Does that mean you’re heading for the palace then?”
“The palace?”
“Yes. Where Stasi works. I’m heading there right now. If you’d like a ride—”
“Stasi is picking me up.” Vivienne squinted an eye. “I’m not actually sure what her plans are or where we’re heading.”
“That’s unfortunate for me, as I would love to get to know you more, but if you’re working directly with Stasi, then I’m hoping I’ll see you at the Vasilian. I’m glad I met you now, because I’m certain I’ll have my fair share of competition when it comes to getting your attention, Miss Kristiansen.”
“You’re being too kind, Sir. I’m a nobody here. I doubt anyone will notice my presence, wherever I am.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Kristiansen.” Landon stopped at the VIP area of the baggage conveyor belt, where the luggage of all first-class passengers would come out first. “I know the men in court, and if someone who looks like you starts showing up at court functions and events, by the time you leave this country, Vivienne, mark my words: everyone will know who you are.”
Vivienne blushed, but dread choked her with his words. She shuddered at the notion of being in Ancoria’s spotlight, so much so that she made a mental note to tell Stasi she preferred tasks that would keep her incognito and behind-the-scenes. There was no point for her to attract unwanted attention. Not when she was on such a personal journey — one that, in her mind, she was sharing with Pax. Over the past year, she had lived off of her camera as she journeyed through Asia and Europe, visiting twenty-four countries in total. Ancoria was the twenty-fifth. It was the one country she and Pax had promised themselves they would someday visit together. With her finally making good on that promise, something deep within her longed to treat the next year as sacred. It was something she was doing not only for herself but in honor of Pax’s memory.
Vivienne didn’t need everyone to know who she was. Not when she barely knew herself. After all, the whole point of this journey was not for her to be discovered by others, but for her to re-discover herself — the self she had lost one fateful morning when blood and tears had soaked their village grounds red. The cries and pleas of the defenseless had filled the air, and the glint of sharp weapons slicing through flesh and bone had devastated the memories of the innocent.
The Blood Blades had once stripped everything away from Pax and Vivienne. Ancoria, in all its power, had done nothing to help. As much as Pax had taught her how to love this kingdom, Vivienne had to find a way to forgive, hoping that forgiveness would help her find a way to forget. If she could only forget, perhaps she could finally heed her inna’s final words: “Fear not, amoré.”
This is the first chapter of my novel, King of the Crown Imperials. It is set in the capital of the fictional modern-day kingdom of Ancoria.