“Let’s change rolls, shall we?” Zef suggests, lifting one of his brows the way he always does to make me laugh. I slap my hand in front of my mouth to keep myself from chuckling.
“You better start running, because I am going to find you!” I sing, turning around, closing my eyes firmly. I start to count, and I hear my brother run away as footsteps fill the silence.
“One, two, three…”
“—fifty-nine, sixty!” I scream out in the hope Zef will hear me. My feet drag me towards the door of our palace. The loud bang telling me that he must have gone inside. I use both my arms to open the heavy entrance door off the palace. I pull very hard and it opens, but I wobble over my own legs and fall on my butt.
“Oops.” I giggle, trying to stand up again.
I look around the entrance hall. Where will he be?
Maybe under his bed? The kitchen? Maybe our father’s office? I stroll up the stairs, but I notice there is some chatting coming from outside.
Maybe Zef is there? He seems to be good at hiding, maybe even better than me. It would make sense, since he is two years older.
I push open the heavy door at the back of the palace, revealing the parking spot.
And then, I see her.
A little girl. I wave my hand towards her, but hold back as I see two adults. The girl walks away from them. She is very pretty. Her hair’s so golden it looks like it gives light. It shimmers so bright it looks like she has sprayed fairy dust all over herself. Her face is covered in freckles. She has a smile from ear to ear, and two honey brown eyes meet mine.
Her smile disappears and her gaze wanders off as a big dark-skinned man, covered in tattoos, lifts her up. A cry comes from the toddler’s throat. I recognize this man somehow, but I am not sure where I have seen him before. Maybe it is a servant? No, he can’t be, he is too fierce for that. And servants wear uniforms. He holds onto her tightly and steps next to my father, who has his lips pressed firmly together. The two adults behind the little girl are having a disappointed look in their eyes.
“April 29th. A day to never forget,” the man whispers to the woman standing next to him. The blonde woman holds her hand to her chest before she turns to the man and starts crying into his shoulder.
Something about all of this feels off. It feels weird. I take a step back and four eyes land on mine. The woman’s mouth falls open and the man points a finger at me. My father’s gaze falls on mine, and I hurry away. Cold fear creeps up to my shoulders.
Fear for the disappointment in his eyes. The eyes that scare me.
But my mom isn’t here to hold my hand anymore.
And I haven’t even found Zephron yet.
I turn around and I run.
I run away from everything.
And I don’t look back.
Chapter 1
Eliane
The wind whiffles through my hair, and I don’t bother to look over my shoulder. There is no need to catch a glimpse of the mourning faces of the man and woman, who are being held back by the sailors as the others untie the ship. The sun touches my face, the salt prickles my skin and rolls in wet liquid drops over my lips. “Just seawater,” I try to convince myself, denying I would spill a tear over the people I once called my mother and father. The wind brings the ship into the sea. I close my eyes, the cold leaving me shivering, ignoring I am so close to freedom.
The wild waves crash onto the deck, my parents’ faces flashing before my eyes one last time.
I wipe the tear rolling down my cheek with my sweater. Closing the book with a soft thud, I think about the similarities and differences between the female main character and myself. I’ve never tried to deny my emotions, but like her, I have never seen my parents nor do I have any idea who they even are. My feet drag me towards my enormous bookshelf. I must have read over 50 books this year, and it is only the first of April. Reading is oneof the things I love to do the most, since I can’t leave the house often. It sucks a lot, and I really desire to be free one day too, but when I am reading a good book in my reading chair under the stars, I worry about my freedom a bit less. The last book I read is quite similar to my real life. The last time I saw my parents was 16 years ago. If you can call them parents, because I am not sure they deserve that title. I don’t remember anything about them. Not their hair color, their face, or even their names. It is not like I want to know, but every time my mind wanders off to them, a stinging feeling fills my chest. It is because of the king making me lose my memories before Da took me. It is what Da told me. It could also be that I was just too young to remember, but I try to believe Da on this one, because he is the only person I trust. The only reminder I have of them are the flashes of the pity on their face, of the echo of their voice. The word honey echoing through my mind. Their nickname for me.
I don’t like it.
Every time something with honey fills my mouth, I am
reminded of them.
Every time I taste the sweetness of honey, disgust fills my veins.
I just don’t talk to Da about these words flowing through my mind.
