Willing my legs to move, I take tentative steps in their direction. Weaving through the gathering of people, I try not to slip on the blood spilled on the ground in the ridiculous stilettos my mother picked out along with this dress.
Muscles pull taut in my shoulders as I reach them and see a spark ignite in my father’s eyes at the sight of me.
“Come and join in with the festivities, child. You look like someone soured your drink,” my father bellows with a hard chuckle. The crowd that surrounds him cackle as their eyes focus on me.
I school my features to mask my burning anger and revolution at his flippant remark of what exactly this party is. It’s a bloodbath, not a festivity of any kind. He can call it a celebration if he wants but it’s nothing more than death and carnage, pain and cruelty.
“I’d rather not ruin my manicure.” The words slip from my lips with ease, my hand lifting to wave my fingers at him. The excuse came to me on the spot, vanity over the barbaric activities would be believable amongst such a crowd.
“Nonsense,” he booms. A tug of his lip forming a wicked smirk. “I won’t hear of it, and you can get your nails fixed tomorrow if you really need to. Now, come take this one from me and let loose a little,” he demands, thrusting forward the blood-soaked girl in my direction without releasing her. I look at the girl, and it scares me how much she looks like me, despite her hair. It’s like he’s killing me in the only way he can get away with, and now he wants me to kill myself instead. His games never fail to shock me, but this . . . A lead weight pools in the bottom of my stomach at what he’s inadvertently telling me.
I look around, and all eyes are on me observing, goading, adding pressure I don’t want or need. The tightening of my chest crushes down on my heart as I paint a smile on my face so they can’t see that I’m trying not to run, to evaporate into the air and become invisible to them so I don’t have to do something I won’t be able to live with after. Pressure pushes down on me as I feel the weight of hands grasp my shoulder. My head turns briefly to see one of my father’s friends looming over me.
“Come on, child, live a little.” He takes a knife from his chest pocket, dried blood already crusted on the tip, and forces it into my shaking hand. “If you’ve never tried it, how do you know you won’t like it. The Winter scum deserve your wrath, don’t you agree?” he teases.
And it’s those words that speak to the inner voice whispering back inside me. It’s what terrifies me more than any of this. What if I was just like them, just like him and these people I loathe. I don’t want to be like them. I try not to question why my father has Fae from the Winter Court here despite his newest treaty, as much as I want to distract myself from this moment.
Steadying my trembling hand, I curl my fingers around the handle of the blade and close my eyes as they all laugh at me again. I don’t want to do this. They all know that and are feeding on my discomfort, reveling in my reluctance and fear for their own gains. Regardless of my feelings towards the Winter royals, their court does not deserve my wrath, despite my parents’ beliefs.
Their excitement and menacing cheers scrape at my sanity, threatening to break me.
I stumble forward when my father grasps my wrist with his bloody hand and yanks me towards him, where he still holds the poor girl by the back of the neck. Her legs are barely keeping her upright. I think if he let go, she’d crumple to the floor in a heap, and I may dissolve with her.
“Show us who you really are, Emilia. I know it’s part of you deep down, you just need to taste it, and you’ll never turn back,” he taunts. I flash a look, pleading for mercy to my mother, but she turns her face from mine, leaving me cold and empty. The lump clogging up my throat makes it hard to speak. All I can hear are my father’s words as the blood rushes through me, I step towards her, and she whimpers, flinching slightly, at least I hope it’s her.
“Oh, just get on with it,” a female voice chimes in, and I see Natalia smirking at me over my shoulder as she marches towards me. This crazy bitch has hated me my entire life, but she loved Edimere more than life itself, so I never made my feelings about her known. They were well suited. She was as cruel as he was; it was as if they were developing their cruelty together. But since he died, she’s continued the journey they were on. She’s been crueller and more twisted than ever. More than I thought possible. Her manic grin is way too close for comfort and despite my usual speed, I don’t have the power to stop her.
My world slows; the atmosphere thickening with a suffocating fog of despair. I can’t react, it’s too late, my eyes see, but my mind has taken a back seat, leaving me with zero ability to prevent her from grasping my hand. She rams my arm forward, plunging the blade through skin, muscle, and bone of the young girl’s throat. Wide, shocked blue eyes burn into my own as the life and light fade from the girl’s face. Blood spurts from her like she’s a broken faucet on a sink, coating me in my sin, my unwilling deed. Her murder.
Screams rattle around my body and bouncing around the space in my mind. I search for who they belong to but it’s me. The screams are my own.
If it weren’t for my wails being drowned out by the cheers around me, the celebration of me taking a life, they would have angered my father, but he’s too busy joining in the round of applause.
My hand loosens its hold on the blade, and the room rushes into focus around me as the girl’s body is released from my father’s grip. She thuds to the floor like nothing more than a lump of slaughtered meat. I battle to comprehend what’s happened, what I was forced to do, what she made me become. Natalia, grins at me, blood coating her hand from the squirt of the severed artery she caused using my hand as her weapon.
“You had no fucking right,” I croak out, my hand swinging at her face, but she’s fast, faster than me at least, and anticipates my reaction. Her cold, callous fingers grab hold of my offending hand. She doesn’t realize her mistake though, all I feel is a burning rage growing, building. I don’t think, all I do is feel as I release the pain and anger inside me, reaching for my power, my fire. I unleash it on the room with a fury like no other, starting with Natalia. I pay no mind to her cries as the anger courses through me gaining momentum and wrath.
How fucking dare they make me do this, and then cheer in the sight of my misery and regret.
My heart thunders in my chest as the power races through the very fabric of my being. I watch as the fire coming from me ignites the clothing of those closest to me, engulfing them in my wrath, my justice. The only people not trying to flee are those who are designed like me, and who feel nothing from the fire I’m raging into the room. A scream tears from me, causing the flames to leap higher. I never wanted to be this person; they coaxed the darkness from me, and now are coated within it. This entire night is disgusting, and I want to scorch it all from my memory, and from my sight, from the world. I no longer care about the loss of life, just as they all wanted.
A force from behind me shoves into me, sending me tumbling to the ground with them on top of me. I’m consumed by the weight of whoever is pinning me beneath them, as they put a stop to the destruction of all the things I hate.
“Get off of me!” I bark, struggling to shift the weight on my back. Suddenly a sense of dread fills me as an icy cold rush of magik kills my flames, filling me with a cold essence.
The weight moves off of me, and I turn to sit up, faced with my father’s smug face and another who causes a gasp to leave my lips.
“Nice to see you again, Emilia.” The familiar voice deepens the ice already seeping into my blood, freezing my veins.
“Rowan,” I whisper a shiver racking through me. “Why are you here?”
“I’m saving the day it appears. That’s quite a temper you have.” He smirks at me, and the cold is gone; my anger returns with dull force as my blood boils as I stare at Cade Vasara’s younger brother.
“Why are you here?” I grit out this time with more bite.
“I’m here for you, obviously.”
Chapte
r Four
I pace my room while Rowan sits on a chair by the window in silence. I don’t speak. I can’t. How dare he be here. In my room. Summoning me to the Winter Palace! I thought I had more time than this. I’m not ready. The shock from what just happened clings to me. This is all too much at once.
“Are you okay?” Rowan stands and moves towards me, but I step back and try to breathe. “Jesus, Em, sit down before you fall down.”
I do as he says, but more so that I can curl up and steady my breathing.
“Only my friends call me, Em, Rowan. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” I tell him once I feel more like myself; he looks like I just hit him.
“I get that. Sorry.” He seems more composed and so far from the boy I used to know. “I’m assuming no one told you I was coming?”
“You assume correctly. They even told me I had more time than this to prepare.”
“It seems a lot has changed.” He shakes his head and runs his hand through his long dark hair.
“More than you could possibly imagine.” I sigh as I start pulling clothes from my closet and throwing them in the open trunks that have been brought up.
“Considering what I walked in on, I’m going to agree with you. I have to say, I was shocked when they told me that I’d be coming to get you. All things considered, I figured you would be the last person on the planet to want this.”
“You and me both, buddy,” I mutter.
“Sorry, what?” He looks at me like I’ve got two heads. Apparently, my new learnt sarcasm isn’t something that will be welcomed brightly at Winter Court.
“Nothing, I just mean that I was surprised by the treaty. If I can be a part of bringing Erion back home, bringing home all of those pour souls fighting out there for a fight that isn’t their own, just to have enough to feed their families, then I want to be a part of that.” I’m not lying, but it’s not the entire truth either. I do want everyone to come home; I just wish there was another way.
“I’m sorry, Emilia.” I turn to look at him, and the remorse on his face is apparent. “Everything got so out of hand that night. I was irrational, and not completely in my right mind. I overreacted and played right into my father’s evil games. I know that it was more about his boredom and hunger for war than it was about stopping my dalliances. There’s nothing I can say or do to change what happened to Edimere, but I want you to know how sorry I am. I do not expect you to forgive me, though, I hope you can. We’ve tried to reach out over the years, Cade and I, but we weren’t surprised when we didn’t hear back from you.” I’m not sure how to take that; I had no idea. He might be sorry, but it doesn’t change anything. If it wasn’t for that night, I wouldn’t be here right now, so I say nothing and finish packing up the belongings I’ll be taking with me.
***
I walk down the stairs to the main entrance hall with Rowan on my heels and find my parents waiting for us; my father’s shirt and hands still stained with the blood of his victims. I try not to think about what he made me do—what they made me do. I don’t want to lose my stomach or my control. I keep my head high as I approach them. I refuse to let them see the anguish I feel inside about being cast out of my home, even one as ghastly as this.
“A Vasara at your heels, Emilia, how fitting. It’s almost like they didn’t take everything from us already and you’ve just gone right back to how things used to be. Rowan dear, you always did have a sweet spot for our daughter; isn’t that right?” My mother sneers as if she’s smiling. Her words land where they mean to as I see Rowan’s face turn red.
“How dare you speak to me like that, Galadriel. Let us not forget why I’m here, and who begged who for this opportunity. You should mind your tongue before you lose it. I'd have thought Oisin would have kept you better in line.” Rowan stands tall, retaliating against my mother’s wretched words while reprimanding my father. I watch as she shrinks back behind my father, and his face turns a strange shade of purple.
“You two should leave now, before I lose my temper. Remember your place Emilia, and don’t you dare disappoint us.” He turns on his heel and drags my mother back down the hall to the ballroom where his guests are no doubt waiting for him to continue in their torture games.
“I’m sorry, Rowan. You didn’t deserve that. My parents are just . . . Well, you might have noticed that they’ve changed since you last saw them.” I try to be civil, to wash the shame from my parents’ behavior from me, and I hate the words as they fall from my mouth, my bitterness squeezing my heart.
“Don’t you dare apologize to me for them, Emilia. You’ve never really been like the rest of your family, and while you might think they’ve changed, they haven’t. You just never really saw their true nature before. You have no need to apologize to me. Now or ever.” He nods at me and lifts his arm, motioning to the door and escorts me out to the horse-drawn carriage waiting outside.
“I thought you’d appreciate this more than walking all the way like the old days. It’s a long way. Plus, we must go the long route because while the cease-fire has been reinstated, the lands of war are still mainly full of soldiers along the border. I’ve made sure it’s fitted with extra blankets and such, what with the cold seasons creeping in the north. You never did much like the cold.”
“Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you,” I tell him as he opens the door and offers me a hand into the carriage. I have no idea what is going to happen over the next few weeks, but I take a deep breath and steel myself against it all. I don’t get to be Emilia, the girl who lost her brother and loves a Hunter. What they’ll get from me is a mask—all they’ll see is Emilia, the girl who wants to forgive and forget, the girl who wants to make things better for the courts, a girl willing to sacrifice for the greater good. If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t let me through the front doors.
Chapter Five
It’s as if no time has passed at all in Ringa. Once we passed the war-torn lands at the borders, everything looks exactly the same through the valleys and the towns. The carriage turns the corner to the long winding entry of the Winter Palace, and anxiety floods me at what is to come. I focus on steadying my breathing, being back here brings it all back—the good and the bad—and it’s as bad as I feared it might be. I shake the sleep from my limbs and stretch out as much as I can in the small space. We travelled through the night, and thankfully, I managed to sleep most of the way, despite the severe drop in temperature once we crossed the border into the Winter Territory.
The sunlight makes my eyes sting, but I welcome its greeting, even if it does make the palace look majestic as it glints off the white and gold beauty. It almost looks as if it’s made from ice, which seems only fitting. The memories of my childhood and everything I once had assault my mind, and I try to focus on anything but them, the laughter, the friendships, the tears.
“Are you okay?” Rowan’s voice filters through the fog in my mind and brings me back to my unwanted reality
“Not exactly somewhere I thought I’d be again, it’s just . . .” I take a deep breath as my heart squeezes, thinking briefly on everything that could have been.
“Painful?” he asks, and I nod. He sends me a small smile like he understands my pain. It occurs to me that it couldn’t have been easy for him to come and get me. To come to our home, knowing everything that happened, what was set in motion by his actions. To see what monsters my parents have become. To feel some sort of responsibility for it all, and I soften to him a little. He didn’t have to come and get me himself; he could’ve sent anyone. But if he’s anything like the Rowan I used to know, there’s no way he’d have made me face coming back here without a familiar face. Without someone who knows just how hard this is for me, no matter what I say or how much I pretend I’m fine. I guess, despite all of the changes at home, not much has really changed here.
“There’s a lot of history for you here; it’s why we, other than my father, were so surprised to see your name on the list, or a submission from your court at al
l. I’m pretty sure I was the only one who took it at face value, the others, well they might not have missed you like I did.” He nudges me with his shoulder and smiles. His words give me little comfort. I can’t say I didn’t miss him, for a while all I did was miss the way we all were, the ways things used to be, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget that he was at the center of everything that came to be. My emotions are a tornado, swirling inside me so much I don’t know which way is up. I mask my face and paint on a smile to hide the turmoil and conflict I feel inside. I might not be ready for any of this, but I’m sure as hell not going to let anyone else know that.
“I appreciate the warning. When are the others arriving?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“They’re already here. They have been for a few days. Cade and my mother weren’t convinced about you coming here for the right reasons, or if it was even remotely a good idea, but as always, Father had the last word, and so you’re here.” He shrugs, and I get it. They don’t trust me or want me here. Just another obstacle to overcome.
Lucky me.
We pull up in front of the steps that lead to the main doors, and I freeze. The last time I stood here, I was so carefree. Hell, the last time I stood here, I had an uber crush on Cade. These were the only people who accepted me, who didn’t judge me for being who I was. Even more so than my brothers. Even being from Winter, they didn’t ever seem as cold and brutal as I had been taught to believe. So much time has passed, so many things have changed. But Oberon needs me to do this. Erion needs me to do this. I take another deep breath and climb out of the carriage and put my hand in Rowan’s waiting one.
Summer Princess (Dark Fae Book 1) Page 6
