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Owletta
By

Ellen Margret

 A male human and a female faery, swapped at birth.      
       Hawke and Owletta were destined to be united. 
Their love would save a dying land.

Erotica,  Sci-fi, Fantasy, Romance, Mature Content


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Excerpt

Chapter One

In the Kingdom of the Faeries, all was well. For the most part, the faeries were happy as most faeries usually are for they have an unerring ability to see the good in everything. Of course, there were exceptions for just as individual personalities vary in the land of the humans, so too do they vary amongst the faeries. The king for example could be moody and arrogant, not desirable characteristics to be sure, but in his own defense he would remind his subjects that it was the worry of running a kingdom that made him so. His loyal subjects did not fully understand this since the kingdom ran so smoothly that there was little to be concerned about.

The crops were bountiful. The fields were a luscious green and dotted with beautiful daisies, buttercups, poppies, wild orchids and cowslips. Beneath the ever permanent, glistening rainbow, the rabbits and unicorns ran across the land with wild abandon. But it never rained during the day. The rainbow was just a legacy of the precipitation of the night. Rain only fell during the night whilst the sun shone warmly all day long.

The blonde-haired, blue-eyed faeries lived in joy and peace. Crime was unheard of, places of incarceration did not exist for faeries were honest and noble, and there was simply no need for such dark places in their kingdom of light. The kingdom was filled with music and song and happy chatter. But the very best sounds of all came from the laughing lips of little faery children and the contented gurgling of faery babes.

And sadly this was what was missing in the lives of the king and queen.

“But not for very much longer,” the queen whispered to her husband who lay in the royal bed beside her.

Frowning, the king touched his wife’s swollen belly. “You have lost eight babes, Admira. None survived longer than five days.”

Queen Admira did not allow the tears to flow. She was the queen of the faeries and had to be strong and optimistic. “This babe shall live and will bring us the joy that we do so deserve.”

“And all eight babes were girls. Can you only make females, my wife?”

Queen Admira sucked in a breath. She found the tone in her husband’s voice accusatory, and it made her feel sad. “This babe shall live because I sense that it is a boy. He will be a strong boy who will one day rule as king.”

“I hope that your senses speak true, Admira. You are the oldest woman in the kingdom to carry a child. In fact, you should be a grandmother by now.”

“I realize that this child will be my last, Emporo.”

“Then it must be a male.”

She looked up into the eyes of the king and shuddered, for she liked not what she saw there. They were not the eyes of the happy, handsome prince that she had wed so many faery years before. They were darker and more cynical, and so she had to quickly look away. “It will be a healthy male child.”

The king ran his finger around the rim of the polished wooden goblet that held his clear, elderflower wine. “I must have an heir, Admira.”

“I know this, Emporo.”

“Then also know that if the child dies then I shall be forced to do that which no faery king has ever done before. Realize, wife that the Oblue dynasty has been in existence for five thousand faery years, and this noble house shall not end with me. Always the king has produced a male heir and, as a consequence, the kingdom has prospered.”

“But could we not have a queen, should I bear a female?”

He shook his head vehemently from side to side. “Never has it been done. Always there has been a male heir, and that is the way it must be for order and stability in the kingdom.”

A single tear did fall. “Then if I bear a female, you will seek another queen.”

The king sipped his wine, stared at the intricately made flower tapestry on the wall, and merely nodded.

Her heart constricted. She felt real fear and tried not to show it. “This time, all will be well, dear husband.”

“It had better be.” He tossed his goblet across the room, his anger getting the better of him. “I am laughed at, Admira. My own brothers laugh at me. Younger brothers and all three of them have large, thriving families.” He smashed his fist into his palm. “I am the king. I should have everything that I want, and I want a male child!”

The queen recoiled as the king suddenly jumped off the bed and lurched to his feet.

“I shall have what I want!” he shouted. “I want a male heir and,” he continued, wagging a finger at his wife, “if I do not get what I want then be forewarned that your life is going to change drastically.”

Queen Admira was shaking; she had never felt so terrified. Her dear husband was turning into a monster, and she was the cause of it. She was to blame because she was incapable of giving him a living child. She clutched her belly and felt the babe in her faery womb give a strong kick. It reassured her a little, the kick was very strong indeed. That had to mean it was a male.

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