I can still smell his scent, lingering in the air around me.
It's driving me insane.He is driving me mad.
More than anything, more than the revenge that consumes me, I wanted to grab his curls and press my lips into his.
I want to remember what it feels like to taste him.To touch him.To have his arms wrapped around me, his fingertips delicately gliding along my skin.
I need him like I need air.
And without him, I feel as if I am slowly suffocating.
But what drives me more irritated is this damn dress I have slipped on. It cinches my waist firmly, enhancing my figure but making it uncomfortable to move my body. My lips curl upward at the discomfort, noticing the tug and pull the dress does against my skin with the slightest movements. As well as the bodice which lifts my chest so snugly.
I take my air-dried hair between my fingers, combing it as my breath trembles. My eyes never blink, staring at the cracks in the wall as there is no mirror. Unsure how the wounds across my cheeks have healed, I cannot remember the last time I saw my face.
My palms, both scarred with slashes across them, are healing well. The ointment the menders gave me must have some sort of magic in it. My wounds should be still fresh, yet the only thing visible is a soft pinkish line.
Maybe my birthmarks aren’t there anymore, which could protect me from others who feel as if I am the Prophecy Queen. The chosen one from the God of Fire.
But all I know is my blood makes me the rightful heir to the throne, that is it.
Nerves are running rampant throughout me as I contemplate how I will be in a room filled with Royals who want me dead, while some impatiently wait for me to become who I am supposed to be.
Even if I am unsure who that is.
I heard Theon and Kaine outside with Klayra a few moments ago, heading out of the Pyre and towards the castle. How am I supposed to celebrate knowing so many lives were unnecessarilylost in games? I cannot imagine the Gods wanting this to be our way. Father always said bloodshed will never be the answer, and I full-heartedly believe that.
My chin rises, and I arch my back before letting my fingers glide down my dress. My feet move, even if I don’t want them to, and I head for the door. As I leave, the heels click against the floor. I balance myself against the wall so I don’t lose my balance.
I have never been a woman to wear heels. Always have been a woman in boots, especially from the rainy weather in Seattle. A place now that feels so foreign to me.
And I must do everything I can in order to find out if Alice still lives, which means Koen needs to stay the hell away from me.
Or Lykia will never take me to her.
But night has come at last and the stars burn bright tonight with no clouds in sight. I already can hear the music from the dance, people cheering as the wind takes their laughs and lets them soar in the sky.
My fingers twist and turn in front of me as my dress billows behind me, catching on the rocks from the pathway that leads to the tunnel. The symbols of the horses light up, prancing around the tunnel walls before I exit into the castle and darkness returns.
And once again, my eyes are met with the beauty of the castle walls. I remember this palace as a kid, running around, hiding from Florian. But now, everything feels…different. The colors, the statues, they have all been replaced since King Deskyiara reigned.
I catch sight of Death leaning against the wall, next to one of the horse statues. His ash-brown hair that is normally braided and twisted into a high bun, now rests against his shoulders. The light from the chandelier highlights the scars that slash across his face as he lifts his hand to take a drink.
“You are late,” he grunts, rolling his eyes as he takes a step away from the wall.
My eyes flicker with annoyance. “Oh, good to see you too.”
I step upward, meeting his pace as we head for the stairs that connect to the walls on each side, a golden chandelier hanging in the dead center with flowers wrapping around the stair railings.
“The others are already here,” he sighs, there isn't a hint of excitement in his tone.
“Who else has been chosen besides us, Theon, Kaine, and Koen?”
“Pyreon, Hyroe, and…” his eyes lock onto mine, “Dryden.”
“Damn it. Of course he would be chosen.” My throat tightens, cheeks flushing with redness. “There is no way he will fight next to me.”
“He has no choice if the Queen and the flame approve of you.”
