And it was at first! But after that it was quite a different story…
I had been born a famous Duchess’s daughter. My father and mother ruled over the dukedom, Ivyshire, the second largest city in Iri. Father, the Knight Harry, had been a brave knight in the war with Vtyap and had slain their leader himself, resulting in achieving Ivyshire. It had been called Brookville back then until Father changed its name to Ivyshire, after my mother, Ivy Drian.
But I had not grown up as a duchess’s daughter, for where my mother gave birth to me was also her deathbed. So my father was left behind in a lifelong misery. He said, “Without Ivy, I am nothing.” Father paid little attention to me as was his habit to spend the day in his room mourning. He did not even go to Mother’s funeral so large and dark was his grief. So instead I grew up mostly in the city next door, Nasdatan, capital of Iri.
There I had grown up with the chief wizard, Grayhawk, who taught me the beginnings of wizardry or like the commoners hissed at me as I walked by, “witchcraft.” But taunts and mocking bothered me not as my interest of “witchcraft” grew. My curiosity started to boil out, and I learned many a thing with Grayhawk until Twilston, my father’s pointy nose advisor, interfered with the lessons by telling my father about them. Father didn’t get mad but just had my lessons stopped by Twilston.
But by this time I was getting older, seventeen if you want to be exact, and it was far by time that I should be married. But my father paid no attention to things like that…
