The Four Kingdoms

by Maryam Durrani

  “Sorry,” I said, brushing dust off my clothes. I felt my face turning red.

  “You’re fine.” He let go of my waist, taking a step off the chair. “I’m going to go and talk to Isabel.”

  I watched him walk away, and shook my shoulders as if to let go of unnecessary feelings I might have accidently developed. Jax was off limits. I left Astodia to escape those problems that I’d stayed away from my whole life.

  As I focused back on Isabel, her arms were in the air and her chest was rising and falling heavily, a smile brightening her blood-stained face. I let out a sigh of relief.

  I met her below, and she ran up to me, smiling. “I really thought I wasn’t going to make it.” Jax appeared behind her. “I actually defeated him. I’m in the top ten, Aella!” she said, excitement coloring her voice. “Next to you. The only person I’m worried about going against is Cadeyrn.” She said it as Ca-de-rin, and I frowned.

  “That’s unusual.”

  “They say it means ‘Battle Lord’.” She shivered. “He’s an outstanding fighter. I’m surprised you haven’t been put against him yet.”

  “I haven’t even seen him fight yet,” I put my hands on my hips, my gloves brushing against the emerald hilt at my side.

  “He’s going to be in the next two, right before you go,” Jax pointed at the wooden scoreboard. I cracked my knuckles.

  “Trust me. He’ll turn out to be just like the others.”

  Before I knew it, I was standing before the princess again. I did curtsy this time, but not as low as what would’ve been

  appropriate.

  “Did you think about your decision?” she asked me. I eyed her carefully. Today she wore a black lace dress with wide sleeves that hung from her elbows.

  “I did a lot of thinking, Your Highness,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. She was assessing me delicately, as if she was afraid to say something wrong that would force me to walk away—as one did with a wild animal. I was impressed to see her features calm, her back straight and her head held high. Her dark lips stood out against her olive skin, the dark liner making her eyes pop.

  I had mulled over the thought of living at a castle many times over the past day, and finally came to a conclusion. She stood, waiting for an answer. And then I began to speak.

  “I have many other duties,” I said, and her face seemed to fall just a bit. “I have to take care of my friends, and I have taken part in this competition that I cannot back out of for the second time. If I were to become a guard at your castle, I would need time off. I don’t want to tell Isabel or Jax just yet.”

  She was smiling at me, her maroon-painted lips pressed together.

  “You’re a hard shell to crack, aren’t you?” She laughed. “Alright. Whatever you wish.”

  “Alright.” I nodded my head.

  “Take a seat,” she patted the chair beside her gorgeous throne. “I hear there’s a beautiful fighter next. Cadeyrn, was it?” I took the seat beside her and watched from her balcony as Cadeyrn entered the arena. I immediately recognized him as the boy who sat alone during our first meeting of the Ring Battles. As he started to fight, his used a dark sword that he twisted and turned in a new technique I hadn’t seen before. Suddenly attracted to the way he moved, I leaned in closer,

  trying to catch a glimpse of his face. But he was too clever.

  He wore a mask, moving too quickly. I leaned back.

  “I’ve been trying to get a hold of him,” Princess Zinovia said, turning her head to look at me. “I thought maybe you two could work together, but he won’t even give darling Helen’s face a second look.”

  “Helen?”

  “My handmaiden. The one who lured you up here,” Zinovia laughed. “I make sure I pick the kindhearted ones for my castle, and when you offered to take her to me she knew you were alright to trust.”

  Kindhearted?

  I swallowed, turning away from the princess. To my surprise, Cadeyrn was nowhere to be seen. “Where did he go?” I said out loud, standing up to get a closer look.

  “He won,” she smiled. “He’s done with today’s rounds.”

  I sat back down, appalled.

  “No, Adalia, don’t sit,” Zinovia tsked. “You’re up next.”

  She was right. I hopped out of my seat and ran out behind the curtains, down to the entrance of the Rings. I prepared my sword and made sure my boots were on tight.

  Then, I walked into battle.

  EIGHT

  When I was taken to Astodia’s castle for the first time, I’d been in awe. It was grand and it took me a while to get used to the ways of everyone there.

  Crea’s castle, on the other hand, was twice as flamboyant. It would take me ages to memorize the corridors and stairwells.

  “I’m personally showing you around,” Zinovia said, her heels clicking against the cold polished floors. “I have to make sure you know everything so you may find your way easily in case of any emergency.” She walked fast in her tall shoes, her slender waist hidden behind her long, beautifully styled hair. She wore a beige dress, the sleeves ending just below her elbows. A styled belt hung from her hips, a crown twisting elegantly around her head.

  My whole life I’d despised dresses, but seeing her wear them so elegantly made me feel slightly more feminine. Maybe I could give them another try.

  “Of course.” The last place she took me was my chambers. I stood outside of them as she nodded for the guards to open the double doors.

  In awe, I almost dreaded what was behind the doors. During my whole life at the castle, I had thought I had everything I could possibly want and need, but now as I compared my two homes I realized how little King Sadim had given me—for behind the doors was a large bed with the whitest silk sheets and a canopy. Plush sofas made of the softest velvet were sat along the walls.

  A step up was another set of doubled doors which were also opened by the guards. I swallowed as I saw what lay behind it; a small room that held a dainty table decorated with a vase and beautiful roses. Around them were comfortable chairs, made from dark wood that shone from a mile away. The color of their silver swan crest was a royal blue, hanging from the walls.

  “This is too much,” was the first thing I said. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but—”

  “Nonsense,” she cut me off. “You are here to protect my kingdom. I shall give you the best of what I own,” she gestured to the room. “It is all yours for as long as you decide to serve me.”

  Something was holding me back, dragging me down. I had accepted her offer to protect her against those who served her, but I felt as if I was missing something crucial. My conscience was screaming for help, but I shook out my shoulders as if to drive it to silence.

  “Alright,” I said as a breath escaped my lips. “I’ll begin today.”

  “Your uniform has been strewn out for you,” she gestured to my bed as the ladies in waiting set down what I was to wear. To my surprise, it was a dress, almost as delicate as hers.

  “Will I have to wear this?” I asked her. She shrugged helplessly, and although it wasn’t a princess-like move, she still looked elegant doing it.

  “Until my ladies can sew you up a female uniform, you’ll have to wear these dresses.” I held back a groan.

  “As you wish.”

  She nodded. “Meet me when you’re ready.” She gave me a smile as she exited the room, and I leaned against my door alone. No guards, no princesses, no Isabel or Jax—I was finally alone. I slowly walked over to the bed, running a hand over the soft material of the dress.

  I had to keep this from Jax and Isabel. They wouldn’t understand my position. This is what I was bred to do, no matter how hard I wanted to become someone else.

  Protect and serve.

  This is what I had been missing.

  My post was outside the meeting room. I waited while Princess Zinovia spoke inside, discussing matter two men had brought forth a while ago. I stood, back straight, in front of the large, carved doors w
ith two guards standing on either side of me. One of them shifted his weight, and I shot him a stern look. He bowed his head apologetically.

  Turning into the hallway, a middle-aged man escorted by one of Crea’s guards approached us. I rested one hand against the hilt at my side, and gave a small nod. I was focused on the roll of paper in his hands.

  “Hello,” the man greeted. “How are you, child?”

  Confused at the familiarity of his voice, I furrowed my eyebrows, taking a closer look at his face. As my eyes fell on his deep blue ones, I was taken by surprise. It was Hansen, one of the Rebel Army’s—also known as the RA—former Leaders who had served alongside Janine, Lance’s mother, and a deceased Clarice—Xavier’s murderer and Lorelle’s mother. Lorelle was now the current queen of Astodia. Things were as great as they could get for her.

  He looked older, with wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and a graying beard that hadn’t been there the last time I had seen him. “Hansen?” I asked. What would he be doing here, so far from home? I never forgot a face, but I needed to make sure it was him I was seeing.

  “Adalia,” he said with a genuine smile. “Fancy meeting you here. I recognized you down the hall.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, letting my hand slip from the sword. Thoughts came flying into my head, whirling and mixing with each other. Memories flooded in, and I couldn’t help but wonder how everything was in the kingdom that had once been my home.

  “I have a proposal for the princess.” He held up the piece of paper in his hand. I took it from him, and it indeed had the royal blue stamp of Crea. I ran my eyes over the words, and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Hansen sighed. “Astodia lost Dystalphi’s alliance. The queen is under pressure from her people and nearby kingdoms. There’s too much weight on her shoulders, and she asked me to help. And so I’m here, the second kingdom I’ve visited besides Astodia.” He chuckled. “I haven’t been home in more than half a year.”

  I let out sigh. “Lorelle is facing trouble?”

  “Ever since you left. Lorelle had no experience in ruling a kingdom,” he explained sadly. “Astodia needed a ruler, and she was next in line. She was thrown into the ocean when she had no idea how to swim.”

  “And . . . And how is Lance doing?” I asked. All I could think was if I was there, I could’ve helped Lorelle. I had watched King Sadim go through a countless number of issues to know exactly how to get out of situations Lorelle could have been stuck in right now.

  Hansen laughed, but there was no humor in his voice.

  “After you left him stranded in the middle of a coronation? What do you want me to say, Adalia? He’s joyful? Cel-

  ebrating?”

  I swallowed. “Of course. I understand. I . . .” I paused, taking a moment to collect myself. Their problems were not mine anymore. I belonged to a different kingdom, and I wouldn’t let one man pull me back into the mess I had left behind. “I wish Astodia the best.” And then I stepped to the side, motioning for the guards to open the door. For a moment, I saw disappointment in his eyes, but then it was gone as quickly as it came, and he was behind the doors, away from my view.

  Moments later, I was approached by a messenger boy. “Aella?” he asked. I nodded.

  “Yes?”

  “There was a message left for you at your home,” he said, handing me a little note. Then he turned on his heel and walked away. I frowned. Had Zinovia positioned someone outside my home to spy on me and everything Jax and Isabel were doing?

  Aella Adalia,

  I don’t know where you are, but the scoreboards were changed. You are after the next three people. You should hurry, or you won’t have a place in the Battles anymore.

  Jax

  I cursed under my breath. Three people, which meant around two and a half hours to get back. I fidgeted in front of the doors, glancing at the guard on my right.

  “How long do the meetings take?” I asked him. He seemed startled that I was speaking to him.

  “It won’t be too long now,” he said in a deep voice. I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back. This was going to be difficult.

  It wasn’t that hard to convince Zinovia. She lent me one of

  her horses to ride. I’d taken a carriage to get to the kingdom, but I refused one back. It was too much, and if anyone saw me stepping out of a carriage that grand they’d surely pay more attention to me. I couldn’t have that.

  I slipped off the horse, making it just in time to hear Amherst announce my name. I rushed down to the Rings, and waited for him to call me in.

  My opponent was a muscular woman with short dark hair. There were markings on her arms and neck. We bowed, and my eyes fell on her weapon. A club.

  Spiked.

  I couldn’t hold in my laughter. It was too much, all of a sudden. I bent over, snickering, and she stared at me with a new burning rage.

  “Ya see somethin’ funny?” she scowled. I didn’t bother to reply, wiping at the corners of my eyes. The crowd fell silent, the onlookers confused.

  “She’s gone mad,” I heard someone shout. I had gone mad. I shook my head, holding out a hand. “Let’s just get on with it.”

  I pulled my sword out of its sheath, holding it at a slant. If I beat her, I would make it up to the final five against Aaren, someone named Sloan, and finally, Cadeyrn.

  Spikey let her spiked club drag against the ground, cutting lines in the dirt. When the shot was fired to begin, she pulled it up, swinging it with such a force my head would’ve been knocked off of my neck if I hadn’t ducked in time.

  I fell onto my back, her quick blows unexpected with such a large object. I rolled left and right as her attacks flew, finally jumping onto my feet. I backed away, surprised at how flustered I’d gotten.

  “Is this weapon allowed?” I shouted. “It may very easily puncture and kill someone.” Amherst shrugged from his safe

  place behind the sidelines.

  “You do what you have to do to get in the top five,” he shouted back. “You may forfeit now if you wish.”

  I nearly dodged another attack as the club slammed into the ground where my boot had been moments ago. She was backing me into a corner. I realized the club was jammed in the floor as she tried to yank it back, taking the chance to swipe at her.

  She jerked back, hands off her weapon, a fresh cut splitting open across her arm. The woman cursed, ducking as the blade flew across her. Her fingers wrapped around the club as she swung it. I jerked to the side, barely dodging it, losing my balance as the crowd booed. All the breath whooshed out of my lungs as I landed hard on my back.

  Confused for a short moment, I glanced at the onlookers. Startled shouts were heard, and my eyes fell on Jax who jumped up and down, pointing at his abdomen. I looked down at myself.

  A small gasp left my lips as I took in the wound. Dark blood bloomed under my black shirt where I frantically tried to suppress the bleeding. I couldn’t see the extent of the damage under the blood, and for the first time since the Battles started, I panicked.

  The damage could be horrible on the inside, and no one would be able to tell until it was too late. Before I could staunch the bleeding, the club was raised over her head again, ready to be swung.

  “You can forfeit!” Amherst shouted.

  No. I rolled onto my knees, grabbing at my sword. I blocked a blow that almost knocked me off my feet again. What was wrong with me?

  Slowly, I steadied myself, planting my feet on the ground. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins, preventing me from feeling any pain. As she swung, I ducked, running towards her. I slammed the hilt against her fingers as she shrieked in pain. I was certain I had broken at least one, slamming my shoulder into her abdomen. With an oof she was on the ground and I was standing above her, the point of my blade scratching against the base of her neck.

  As Amherst announced me as the champion, I dragged myself towards the sidelines, kicking away her club as I went for good measure. I pressed my h
ands against the wound, realizing with a jolt of panic that the blood wouldn’t cease.

  “Jax,” I said as he helped me over, “give me something for this.” I didn’t need to say anything; he was already working, ripping cloth of the end of his tunic and tying it around my waist. “Damn,” I sucked in a breath.

  “Damn,” Jax agreed worriedly. “Come with me.” He pulled on my arm, trying to help me walk, but I pulled away.

  “I’m fine.” I followed him as he pushed through the crowd, making way for me. As we made it outside, I looked down at the cloth tight around my waist. It was soaked scarlet.

  NINE

  When I’d first gotten a deep wound, I was eleven. I’d been racing with Xavier on my horse and I’d fallen off, cutting my calf on a jagged stone. I was never one to scare easy, but seeing so much of my own blood at the time made me panic. Xavier helped me home and I had gotten stitches. It was treated for any infection and I was fine after that; only a small scar left to remind me of the day.

  When the spike cut through me I realized I could die. Internal bleeding, a punctured organ—there was a chance I would never live to see another day.

  As the healer looked over my stomach, wrapping bandages around my middle, I thought of everything I’d done in my life that I regretted. And then it dawned upon me how much I missed Lance. How much I wished Xavier was by my side and I was by Lorelle’s. I groaned, pressing my hands to my face.

  Finally, he said, “The damage will not kill you. The wound wasn’t deep enough to puncture anything important. But you are not to fight until you are healed, or it will split open again.”

  Jax and Isabel breathed sighs of relief. “So she’s not going to die?” Isabel asked.

  “No.”

  I sat up achingly slow. “I have to fight.”

  “You will hurt yourself,” the healer frowned, his green eyes narrowed.