“Besides,” Emily said, twirling a finger in the curls of her brown hair, “they’re called the help for a reason. If we aren’t going to use them properly, are we not as good as peasants ourselves?” She looked Luna up and down, pointing her finger at Luna’s ruined dress. “Speaking of peasants, why do you look like one?”
Ah, so she was going to address Luna’s appearance after all, and, of course, she would do it in an insulting way. So typical of Emily. More than self-conscious, Luna tried to brush away the petals and leaves as she argued, “I do not.” Emily gave her a pointed look, but Luna rolled her eyes and pointed to the buttons at the back. “Just help me out of this thing.”
With surprising obedience, Emily got up from the bed and undid a few of the tricky buttons going down Luna’s back. Luna would have been able to get the dress off alone, but it was much easier to have help. Every once and a while, she sometimes wished they had handmaidens like the other ladies of the court did, but their mother wouldn’t hear of it. The idea of having someone wait on her girls hand and foot was obscene. With how opposed to help their mother was, it was surprising that she allowed the king to assign Luna personal guards. Although it was entirely possible, she hadn’t gotten an opinion on that matter.
“Emily, what’s keeping you?” Angie called out. “The bread will be stale by the time you get there.”
Emily clucked her tongue. “I’m going. I’m going,” she said over her shoulder, but before she could make her exit, Angie appeared in the doorway, blocking her in.
“Why are you in Luna’s room?” Angie asked before her gaze landed on Luna. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were home . . .” Her sweet voice trailed off, and her smile dropped as she took in Luna’s appearance. “Skies above! Were you attacked? Luna, are you hurt?” She rushed over, grabbed Luna’s face in her hands, and began to look her over. Once satisfied that her daughter’s body was unharmed, she fussed over her clothes, picking off the random leaves.
Luna looked towards Emily, silently pleading for help, but she was already retreating from the room with a grin, leaving Luna to deal with their frantic overprotective mother on her own. Sighing, Luna said, “A shadow unicorn attacked Clyde. I ran to get help.”
“A shadow unicorn was here?” her mother repeated, eyes widening with horror. “So that’s what those alarms were about.” Angie’s hands were once again all over Luna, scouring every inch of her skin, looking for evidence of harm. Not finding any, she straightened and added, “And your guard wasn’t strong enough to defend himself. He left you vulnerable!” Her lips turned downwards with disprovable.
“It wasn’t like that—”
“You look like you had to run through the wilderness to get to safety.”
Luna clenched her hands, her fingernails pressing against her skin. Her mother was being unreasonable. “I only ran through some flowers on my way to get him help.”
“And what if the shadow unicorn had decided to go after you? What if you tripped? Your guard wouldn’t have been there to protect you.” She shook her head. “You should never have been put in the position of needing to save someone else.”
Luna’s jaw tightened, gritting her teeth. “Running to get help isn’t a health hazard. You know I hate being treated like I’m a damsel. Nothing happened. Let’s not make a big deal out of this.”
“Any injury could mean death with your condition. All it takes is one misstep. You need to take it more seriously, child.”
Of course, she would think that. “I am not a child,” Luna said with a stomp of her foot.
With her hands on her hips, Angie stared down her nose, looking at Luna’s foot.
Point made; that was a bit immature.
But what did her mother expect her to do in that situation? Go hide while Clyde lay there unconscious? Her illness ruled all aspects of her life, but she would never let it stop her from helping the man who owned her heart.
Silence awkwardly stretched between them before Angie audibly huffed and left.
Alone, Luna stomped around her room, angrily tearing off her dirtied clothes before slipping into a simple blue cotton dress. Why was her mother so upset at the thought of her being harmed, when someone else actually had been? The palace had been breached for the first time in decades, and here her mother was more concerned about Luna running through some flowers.
Once Luna was comfortable, she sat down on her windowsill and gazed outside. The view was less than spectacular. Her window overlooked an empty alley separating her home from the one across the street.
She took a few deep breaths, absentmindedly playing with her necklace. If Emily had been the one to encounter the shadow unicorn, no one would have doubted her words or cared if her dress got ruined. How Luna hated that her sickness made everyone, even her own mother, treat her differently; all she ever wanted was a normal life.
With her illness, any injury that resulted in blood would lead to her death. Her blood was unique and unable to clot in order to heal, so if she got hurt, she’d bleed out. Luna had been told that the news scared off her birth mother, and that’s how she ended up with her adoptive family.
When Darius and Angie first laid eyes on her, they fell in love, as if she were their own, even though they were already expecting. Darius worked for King Hendrix as one of his most trusted advisors, and so, when he asked the king to take Luna under his care and protection, the king agreed. Henot only assigned guards to help ensure her safety, but also took it upon himself to create rules and restrictions for Luna. All to ensure she remained completely free of harm.
Her entire life, she had been treated like a fragile glass doll. Her childhood was spent sitting on the sideline; she was restricted from dancing, running, and playing. The only thing she could do was watch the other children have fun. Skies above, even skipping rope was forbidden in case she fell and scraped her knee. Even now, as an adult of nineteen years, there were hardly any activities she was allowed to do. To say she resented the protective rules would be an understatement. All she wanted was a normal, boring life where she could do whatever she pleased, without any servants or guards escorting her.
But, alas, that dream could never be.
She released a heavy sigh and hopped off the windowsill. But, as she went to close the curtains, she noticed something tucked against the corner of the ledge. There, in a mound of dirt, sat a small green plant with three equally small leaves.The weed from the garden.It hadn’t been placed in a pot, so the dirt littered the sill, falling into her room; it looked like it had been torn from the ground and dropped there. How had she not noticed it before? With trembling hands, she picked up the plant and brushed away the dirt, finding a small folded-up note that had been sitting underneath the weed. It read:Pretending you aren’t a captive doesn’t make you free.The writing was elegant, each letter slanting to the right with long exaggerated loops and crosses. At the bottom of the page, the number53-4was written. The note was otherwise unsigned.
As she stared at it, her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Who could have snuck along the houses, found her family’s home, her bedroom window, and then left her a message and a plant without anyone noticing? Only two people knew she had been in the gardens looking at that weed—Clyde and the intruder.
Luna ran her fingers over the word captive. Was she a captive? Sure, it was annoying to have so many restrictions to follow, but never had she thought of herself as a captive. Maybe Clyde saw her as a captive to her station? After all, if she wasn’t a noblewoman, they could be together . ..
Or did the shadow unicorn see her as a captive? But that wouldn’t make any sense. How would he know about the king’s rules for her? Unless he’d been watching her before and knew something she didn’t . . .
