Claudian called on me shortly thereafter, and I performed my first job. I was paid a shocking sum that allowed me to buy the medicine my sister needed.
She grew stronger with each passing day, each dose, and I knew I could not stop. I did not realize for many months; however, that there was no out.
Prince Claudian of Acsilla owned me, and he owned my family. I would serve the crown, or we would all be put to death.
Eight years passed, and I still fought every day to keep them safe. I would do whatever it took to protect the ones I loved, always.
The morning brought cloudy skies. The world was darker, as if my mood from the night before had been painted across the horizon. I did my best to shake the dreariness from my mind.
As I dressed, I contemplated the mask I would wear for Seren. It was clear from my observations that she did not value relationships with her fellow Guardians, nor did she seem interested in attention or glory.
She responded to competency.
I would challenge her with my blades.
I had come a long way since that formative day—when I had been only a seventeen year old kid, quivering beneath the threat of the healer’s measly dagger. I would best her, earning her respect. I would probe her for how much she knew of her own mágik, and I would convince her to train with me and be reunited with the kingdom she was born from.
My confidence grew as I strode back for the unlocked gate, ready to work my mágik in more ways than one.
Chapter nine
Seren
My armor had nearly cracked. Two days in a row, I had been confronted. My fellow Guardians had cut me with their words and pried at my carefully buried emotions. They twisted deeper than any sword could.
I felt the painful splinters digging into the flesh beneath my ribs. Were those shards pushing into my bloodstream? Creeping toward my heart?
I ran a hand over the steel at my chest. It was intact, unblemished. The blows they had dealt were not to my person, but they had turned me into a ragged thing, shaking with heaving breaths. My forehead pressed against the cold stone of the ivy strewn wall of the palace. I forced myself to focus on each inhale and exhale, fingers tangling in the vines and eyelids squeezing tightly shut.
With great effort, I straightened my spine and went about the rest of my day as if nothing had changed. As if I was not growing tired of the rules I had set for myself. I thought again of the necessity of it all. I must protect myself first, because no one else would.
There was never happiness without pain, and if I must keep myself forcibly numb in order to save my heart from shattering once again, then I would do it.
This mantra repeated itself, ringing through my mind long into the night. I was here for peace and for justice. I had spent the last five years taking back what belonged to me. My heart would be mended with the blood of those I fell.
Yes,that was why this was all so important. That was why this pain was worth it. It was temporary. It was forhim.
My mind finally stilled. I slipped into the fuzzy blackness of dreamless sleep, a warm blanket around my shoulders, but it wasn’t long before the cold, battering river of dreams dragged me beneath the surface and into the depths that I dreaded most nights.
I lifted my heavy head to the scene before me. I blinked to clear my vision and was surprised to find the room around me less blurred than usual. My hands rested on the plush arms of a velvety chair, but my fingers could not feel the soft texture beneath them.
Voices came into hazy focus. My gaze lifted to the man before me, with red hair and a golden circlet. I had seen him before.
He spoke firmly, hands moving in rapid gesticulation. I felt my head nodding though I had not willed it to do so. My mouth opened of its own accord.
“You expect my coronation so soon?” The words slipping past my lips were clear, but the voice was not my own.
“If all goes according to plan, the crown will sit atop your head by the end of the year, Ayla.” He leaned back in his chair, shoulders straight and fingers steepled in front of his broad chest.
Ayla.Where had I heard that name before?The thoughts ricocheted through my skull with head splitting pain, but I could not even gasp.
I tried to shake my head—tried to let him know that I was not who he thought I was—but I was locked in place, unable to alter the events playing out before me.
“What is the plan? Is my father planning to abdicate? I… I expected to be crowned queen someday—of course—but it is too early. And why would he not tell me himself?” My mind swam as confusion and fear washed through me.
No, through Ayla.
The man’s red hair fell across his forehead as he leaned toward me, hand squeezing my knee in familial comfort. “The king is a busy man, my dear girl, and you know how impersonal he is—even among family. Don’t you trust me to prepare you for the throne? Have I ever once let you down?”
