Suddenly nothing else mattered. Not the cluster of women shouting, not the tightening grip of Ezran’s hand on her collar. He tried pulling her away, but she would not let him take this from her. She swung her fist, barely felt the hard crack against his face or the dent in his cold skin. Her legs sprinted forward, chasing Elly’s voice, as the tether between them tightened. She leapt to the opening and let light swallow her body. Ezran’s presence dissolved behind her like grains of sand slipping through an hourglass. The sleeping princess vanished. The women’s shouts turned to echoes. The room spun in a blinding blur. Her vision filled with white, burning so brightly that she could not tell if she had met or escaped death.
As she crossed over, Elly’s voice turned clearer.
She’s real, Corin.
Corin could have sworn she heard her sister laughing.
I told you so.
CHAPTER 6
102 YEARS AGO
AMELIA TREKKED THROUGH the forest, her boots sinking into snow. White coated the bare trees surrounding her, and bits of crystal fell on her cheeks like teardrops. In the distance, the sun barely rose over the castle, hitting her eyeline. She blinked hard from the winter light, pulled the collar of her wool jacket to her chin, and winced at the air nipping her face.
A bulky figure walked beside her, cloaked in bear fur to blend with the towering trees. His muddy footprints were so large they could swallow her own feet. Amelia didn’t understand why her father took her to the woods. Winters in Gyldan were so cold that even wild faeries hibernated in the forest, refusing to come out unless humans tantalized them with jewelry and coins. She had asked her godmothers to accompany them on their trip, but they preferred lounging around the castle, content with their crackling furnace and wool blankets made from rabbit fur.
“We worked hard for this life among royalty,” Clover harrumphed. “Don’t mix us with common nymphs.”
“Were the forest nymphs and animals not your friends?” Amelia had asked.
“Worrying about others who no longer serve you, my dear, is a waste of precious time. I choose to be with those who can bring good to my life.”
Amelia had assumed Clover meant this literally, as her godmother beckoned another servant to pour wine into her goblet.
And so, Amelia joined the trek with her father alone. All morning, he wore a dour expression and flat mouth. She remained silent to avoid worsening his mood and instead sought distraction from the nature surrounding them. A sweetly whistled warble of a bird played across the passage of white trees. Her eyes followed the sound before stopping at the movement of a new creature in the distance.
Speckles of white covered the deer’s light-brown coat. His large ears twitched as falling leaves grazed his head. The tip of his nose pushed around a pile of twigs, and his soft pink tongue flickered as he ate a woody portion of leaves and stems.
The small pleasure of his meal made something flutter in Amelia’s heart. She wanted to sit beside this deer and brush her hand through his coat, counting the star-colored spots that blanketed him.
“Good find. This one can be your first.”
Her father’s blue eyes fixed on the deer. A sense of dread filled her stomach, like he’d uncovered a secret she didn’t want to share without tainting it. He handed her a bow and quiver that held a dozen arrows.
The purpose of their journey to the woods sliced her like the bitter nip in the air. Amelia pushed the weapon back and shook her head frantically. He ignored her, slinging the strap aroundher shoulder, and positioned the bow in her trembling hands.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Yes, you can.” He kept his voice low so that the deer would not run. “To hunt is to prove you can conquer. It’s a reminder we have power.”
“I don’t want to conquer anything.”
“You are the future queen, Amelia. This is what it means to be a ruler.”
She gripped the bow as realization sank into her bones. This was the real test she needed to pass. Not whether she could make a good wife or mother, but whether she could stand tall and become a woman worthy of a crown.
Perhaps there were girls who dreamed of conquests and power, but not her.
Her father lined her body perpendicular to the deer. He muttered directions about drawing an imaginary line to the target and standing upright, but she hardly heard him. Her knuckles clenched white over the bow. She stayed trembling, her arrow pointed askew to the ground. Her father then leaned over her shoulder to ready her hand and hold it upright. The hedgerow of his beard prickled the side of her cheek like an animal scratching at her.
“I will not be raising a princess.” His breath was low, quiet. “I will be raising a warrior.”
The tip of the arrow pointed straight at the unsuspecting deer. Amelia breathed hard as she imagined the arrow piercing the deer’s flesh, staining the stars on his coat and turning it red like a bloodied sky.
She let go of the arrow only after shifting the bow to the side.
They watched the arrow strike a nearby tree. The deer jumpedand scattered into the distance, disappearing before she dropped the bow.
