I swear to the gods,he thought.If I die, I will make it my Otherworldly mission to come back and haunt these fuckers every day until Aziel drags them all to the pits.
The prince rolled his shoulders.
He was a large man. Tall, muscular, with broad shoulders and legs structured like tree trunks. But he’d never quite gotten over his fear of the dark. Or this fucking vault.
Dorid told him, years ago, that the vault housed secrets the world was not ready to be reckoned with. As a boy, Oran believed it to be vicious monsters that would rip out his throat or devour him in one large gulp. At the ripe age of twenty-five…
Well, he still believed monsters existed. He’d seen enough of them to know they were real. And he knew that when they were angry, they did not care about a good heart or intentions. They only cared about revenge.
So, yes. He was scared of the dark. Specificallythissort of darkness that promised nothing but imminent death.
Steeling himself, he pressed on. This was not about his fear. This was not about monsters. Hisfearwas not specifically about monsters, it was about what he believed he would find.
He’d heard rumors of cells being in the vault. Cells that housed the kingdoms most dangerous criminals.
If his mother was still alive, he was sure that he would find her—
His boot collided with something, sending the unseen object clattering across the rough stone flooring and into one of the domed stone walls to his left.
Oran’s eyes followed the orange glow of firelight to where the object now rested. If not for its color, he would have known what it was without seeing its shape.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself before he looked down at where the object had come from. He prayed that it was just the skeletal remains of an animal or an unlucky guard. He prayed it was anything other than what he was searching for. But by the sinking feeling he felt in his chest and stomach, Oran had an inclination as to what he would find when he opened his eyes.
He could already see it gleaming in the orange light he held above his head. Without even having to look, he knew he would see his ring on his mother’s finger. And she would be dead.
Drawing in a deep breath that did nothing to settle the anger and ache inside of him, Oran looked down at the pile of bones that was being swallowed by a dirtied rag that was once a very fine gown. The mice and time had made a meal of her feeble body, but he knew her bones the same way he’d known her heart.
The real Queen Camalia Yaarborough of Yaar lay at his feet. And there, on her middle finger, was the most beautiful ring for the most beautiful creature thatever walked the earth. Tears welled up in his eyes as he knelt by her decayed form, his hands shaking as he reached for her hand.
"I told you to never come down here." His father's voice echoed through the dark chamber. The hairs along Oran's arms prickled, his back going erect as he pushed himself to his feet. "We warned her that the plague would come for her if she did not relent."
Oran's knuckles tightened around the base of his torch. He used every ounce of strength in his body to not launch himself across the floor and kill his father on the spot. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He sneered.
Dorid took a step closer, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he did. "Your mother was warned, multiple times, of what would happen if she tried to get in the way of what I wanted. While I loved her dearly, she had too good of a heart to be a powerful queen. And since I do not believe indivorce, there were arrangements made so that I could finally have a queenworthy of the Yaar throne."
The reigns on his control snapped. Oran lurched forward, prepared to drive his fist right into his father's fat little face, but it was as if an invisible wall had been placed in front of him. Oran slammed into it over and over until he deflated onto the ground in front of the king, his body spent and shaking with angry sobs. "Who is she?" The prince yelled. "Who is the Mimic bitch that killed my mother?"
With the flap of his cape, Dorid turned on his heel and started back towards the vault entrance. "Someone like me," he said simply. "Someone who isn't afraid to killanyoneto get what they want. Not even their own child." He paused for a moment as he turned to look at Oran in the darkness, his jeweled hand resting on the vault door. "I wanted you to be like me, son. I wished you would have seen the world the way I did. But you have too much of your mother in you. Too much Mystic, not enough Yaarborough. It's a shame."
And with that, Dorid closed the vault door, sealing Oran in its dark depths.
Chapter 34
“Don’t give me that look,” Nymiria scoffed, shoving the bread further out the crack in the window. The crow blinked its eyes at her, tilting its head from one side to the other. “I’m trying to be nice to you. You’re supposed toeatit.” The crow clicked its beak, giving a small flutter of its wings before squawking loudly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, but if we are friends, you will take this bread from my hand rightnow.Take it—“
The crow plucked the food from her hand, giving her what she swore was a look of indignance as it gulped it down. Nymiria smiled triumphantly and inched her fingers closer to scratch it’s neck, but the bird let out another loud cry and banged its beak against the glass. She jerked her hand back and released a long sigh. “Alright, fine. But you can’t say that I didn’ttryto befriend you.” She brushed her hand off on her shift before swinging her legs off of the window seat and standing upright.
Aziel had disappeared again, but not before telling her that he was going to take his patrol rounds early. She stayed in his rooms most of the morning and afternoon, but it was nearing the evening and she knew that she would need to make an appearance at some time or other in order to make her performance believable.
She’d decided that morning that she was finally going to leave Yaar. Watching Aziel dress himself from the comfort of his bed, she had a random burst of bravery that had lasted throughout the day. Because she realized that she didn’t wanteither of them to be faced with Camalia’s or Dorid’s commands. Whatever power they held over her and Aziel was strong. But if they could not find them, they could not command them to do anything. She wanted to leave before Dorid’s social gathering even began, escaping into the shadows and leaving this world behind once and for all. But many factors came into play when planning her escape. One being that she wanted to take Phyona, Dieve, and Desi with her. Two… she needed to tell Aziel that she wanted to go. She needed to tell him about Dorid’s command. She needed to find him. Immediately.
She walked over to where her dress and corset laid across the end of Aziel’s bed, her finger tapping her chin as she stared down at it. The crow at the window tapped its beak against the glass once more and she spared it a glance, smiling softly.
“When I leave here, I will never wear a corset again.” She said. “I liked wearing Aziel’s clothes. There is something very freeing about wearing breeches and tunics. You can run faster.” She blew a tendril of white hair out of her face before begrudgingly dressing herself. Once every inch of skin was stuffed into that god-awful monstrosity of a dress, she took one look at herself in the mirror and winced before heading towards the door.
As she reached for the handle, the crow at the window went wild. It flapped its wings and knocked at the window, squawking louder and clicking at her in a way that made the hair on her arms raise. Her senses heightened, a dampness forming at the back of her neck as she looked between the bird and the door.
Something was coming.
