The Last Unicirim’s Bride

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The Last Unicirim’s Bride Page 1

by Hollie Hutchins




  The Last Unicirim’s Bride

  Hollie Hutchins

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Maya

  2. Renne

  3. Maya

  4. Renne

  5. Maya

  6. Renne

  7. Maya

  8. Renne

  9. Maya

  10. Renne

  11. Maya

  12. Renne

  13. Maya

  14. Renne

  Epilogue

  More By Hollie

  Let’s Be Friends!

  Prologue

  Age 2360, CR (Cirim Rule)

  Beatrice stared at the smoking ruins of her home. The great coastal city of River’s End, in a noisy corner of the Albalon kingdom, was under attack. Was conquered. Sorrow knifed and twisted inside her guts. Behind her, two babies wailed, and two older children sniffled with hunger and confusion. Above, monstrous serpents twisted in the darkening air, breathing fire down to the cobble streets, the marketsquares, the great fort where once this family resided. The wagon that bore them all trundled away, wheels leaving a second trail in the sand, with a hunched figure whipping the reins of his two horses.

  “Where’s mother?” one of the little princes wailed. Beatrice listened to the choked voice and tried not to think about all the death they’d left behind. “Where’s father?”

  What exactly could she say to them? The flames of the burning markets seemed to be reflected in the children’s eyes. The youngest two continued to bawl.

  They shouldn’t be here. None of them should be here. Beatrice’s attention focused on the one other adult figure with them. A young officer of the royal guard who had helped escort all of them to the beach, who kept trying to soothe the twin babies, hoping their cries wouldn’t draw attention. Both twins were nameless, having not yet lived to their Naming Day. They might not, if the dragons burning their kingdom ever flew down here.

  The soldier had done a good job, at least. He had helped rescue all four royal children. What was his name again? Witslaw or something? She joined him and took up the baby princess, rocking the little one in her arms. Witslaw had hold of the twin brother, and together, they produced some measure of quiet. The two older princes huddled together and remained silent, though rather dry eyed.

  They all waited in the dark, by the shoreline, feet on the sand, wearing simple servant robes to make sure no one recognized any of the group for who they were. They had needed to make a quick stop to enable the disguises. Perhaps the scabbard belted at Witslaw’s side was too fine. Perhaps they stood too straight and regal to be simple commoners.

  “How long do we have to wait here?” Beatrice addressed Witslaw, staring into the man’s black bearded face. His gaze was fixed at a point beyond her shoulder, to the ocean hugging the coastline.

  “Not long, with any luck,” he said. “And assuming nothing went wrong. I sent several ravens their way with the same message.”

  The place that Witslaw had led them to was partially concealed on one side by tall, imposing rocks with hidden pools of shells, plants, and crabs. A small overhang protected them from some of the seaspray that slashed the sands.

  The thought of one of the enemy intercepting the ravens made her uneasy. What if all had been killed? What if people now sought their spot with the intent to wipe out every last one of them?

  “Do you think mother and father will make it?” This time, the voice came from the second oldest child. Prince Callum. He shivered, arms wrapped around his body, eyes searching the skies above the royal castle as if expecting to see his parents there, fighting. They’d be too small to recognize at this distance.

  “I’m sure they’ll be alright,” Beatrice said, attempting some form of bravado. Hard to be brave when she’d lost everything as well. The attack was too vicious, too calculated. No one had been prepared.

  Weaving among the dragons, the royal’s people could be seen. The unicirim, the protectors, who fought alongside the humans of River’s End. They were great winged and horned horses with great internal strength. Forms from glowing white to sucking darkness made them up. Their magic and their riders carried them to the skies, protected them against the dragons, but they seemed so small and pathetic among such huge foes. Beatrice once hoped to be a rider, to have a unicirim partner to fly on, to fight with. But there wasn’t a lick of magic in her.

  “Father’s not going to make it, is he?” Renne’s voice came out a whisper. The oldest prince. A half prince. He bore the mark of treacherous blood in the form of his dark hair and dark eyes. All the other children had blonde curls, blue irises. The lack of speaking beforehand made his young voice break. “He’s going to die up there.”

  Callum stared at his brother in horror, and Beatrice gave the half-prince a vicious glare. “None of that, mind! We have to stay calm! Set an example to your family!”

  Renne glared back. Beatrice closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself, since hysteria bubbled at the edges of her mind and soul.

  No, what these people needed was an adult figure radiating calm. Someone a little like Witslaw, though she noticed how his free hand idly played with the hilt of his sword and how his eyes never rested. But skies, Beatrice was barely past twenty summers. She should be anywhere but here.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  They waited for so long, shivering by the shore, next to the rocky overhang, that it slipped fully into evening, so only the fires of the burning city and of the villages that ringed the coast became visible.

  Out of the inky darkness of the sea a small boat bobbed into existence. No grand or stately ship for the fleeing royals. Two cloaked figures rowed the boat close to the shore, gesturing for the freshly made refugees to come on. It would barely fit all of them. And if one of those monsters saw them from above…

  “Can we have a light?” Callum whimpered, huddled up on the wooden bench next to Renne. Witslaw and Beatrice cradled the twins as best they could and carried them onboard, splashing through the shallows until the water soaked up to their waists. They lurched onboard, helped by the two cloaked men.

  “No light, lad,” one of the tillers said. “We need the cover of darkness if we’re to get you out.” He sat by his oar, and with his companion, began to paddle them out, towards a yet unknown destination. The sea was a black abyss below them, lit only around the edges where the fires burned. The moon itself was shrouded in clouds. No stars shone. Beatrice inhaled the salty air, shivering from the wind and the way the chill water dragged at her skirt. She stared towards the fires of her home, some of the fear balling into hatred.

  Her family had been so proud when she was selected as a servant. She’d traveled from miles away for the honor. And now everything was lost.

  Except these children. And she’d be damned if she didn’t do her best to protect them.

  One day, she thought with grim anger, they’ll return home again. As rightful rulers. One day…

  Maya

  Earth.

  Twenty-five years later.

  Maya’s friends laughed and joked next to her, but she didn’t join in. Her face was to the car window, after she’d desperately cranked it down. The boiling, sickly feeling in her stomach and head dissipated when air whipped into her face, carrying with it the roar of speed as the blue Sedan edged over a hundred miles an hour. The motorway whipped past, and trees and grass on the sides became green blurs. She took more gulps of air, head leaning against the right side door.

  “What’s up with her?” She assumed it was Brett speaking. The new guy dating her friend, Charlotte. Danielle squirmed next to Maya. Turning her head, Maya saw three out of four people staring at her.

  “She always gets like this,
” Tom said from the driver’s seat. “Suffers from mad travel sickness. I tell her she needs to be up front, where Char’s sitting, but she prefers the back.”

  “You get travel sick this bad?” Brett looked at her with an expression she didn’t like. She wished Charlotte wasn’t dating this lunk. He had the appearance of someone who had walked into a few too many walls. Squashed noses weren’t really her thing. “How you gonna learn to drive if you get so sick?”

  “She doesn’t,” Charlotte supplied, tossing her red hair in an overly dramatic fashion. She didn’t wear a seatbelt, and Maya wanted to scream at her to put it on, for fuck’s sake, because Tom had now pushed his brand new Sedan over 120. How many times had Maya’s mother said for her to put on the seatbelt? And that one time, when in brooding anger of her negligence, her father had deliberately braked, and she ended up concussed for a few days. She’d learned her lessons then. Maybe Charlotte’s parents had not reinforced safety rules to her.

  “I don’t,” Maya said, backing up Charlotte, before adding, “But if I did learn, I don’t get it so bad if I’m in the driver’s seat. I do need to have a window open, though.” She smiled, thinking of the times her father had let her practice in his Bug.

  “I wouldn’t trust you driving,” Brett said. “No offense. If you got all queasy, and then a car came out the corner...” He clapped his hands together.

  Maya peeked a glance at the speed. 140. She’d heard the sound change outside, the motion of the car shift faster, and her heart sank somewhere to her stomach. “Charlotte,” she said, the uneasy feeling still tickling, “please put your seatbelt on.”

  “I’m fine,” Charlotte said. “We’re safe here. Nothing but straight road for ages.” She wriggled her eyebrows, prompting a snort from Brett, and Maya flushed.

  “Anything can happen,” Maya said, fully aware the others would consider her a massive mood downer. But she couldn’t shake the anxiety out of her. “Just… please.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen, Maya. Seriously, we’ll be fine.” She placed her feet up on the dashboard, above the glove compartment, and exaggerated a relaxed sigh. “I can’t wait ‘til we’re at Kurt’s place. He’s gonna have the best post-graduate party around. Celebrate our final days at college with some hardcore drinking and fucking.” She wriggled her sandals.

  Brett cleared his throat. “Hoping you’re planning to do some of that hardcore drinking and fucking with me.”

  “Depends what you’re up for,” Charlotte said with a wicked grin. Danielle glanced reproachfully at Charlotte, then turned to Maya. Her hair stuck out in a glorious frizzy bun.

  “Don’t worry about it, Maya. I’m sure we’ll be alright. You worry too much.”

  “You do,” Tom agreed, voice barely heard over the wind. Dear God, Maya thought, seeing the meter flick past 150 with a funny lurch in her stomach, he needs to fucking slow down.

  Although she wanted to be at the party as much as anyone in the car did – especially since Brandon said he was going to be there – she did wish she hadn’t agreed to hitch up with Tom for the journey. Still, it’d be something to tell Brandon. She could see it now – her complaining about how reckless Charlotte was, and him agreeing, with that soft smile she thirsted for. Maybe this would be the evening she’d finally ask him out, or be asked out, and kiss him, instead of always staring at the back of his head in lecture rooms, or the sometimes awkward silences between their otherwise fluent conversations.

  Just out of tired habit, Maya tested her seatbelt for the fourth time that trip, making sure it was taut. Her worrying, of course, came to nothing. Tom slowed down when he neared Great Lake, and soon the Sedan rumbled onto Great Lake grass with dozens of other vehicles, all parked within few of the town’s namesake, which had several piers, boats, and trunk-wearing men diving into the water. It took her another fifteen minutes of sitting on the grass to recover from the travel sickness, and her friends quickly got acquainted with the others from their college. Danielle carried over a drink to Maya in a plastic red cup and set it beside her.

  “If you’re hungry, they’re doing some pretty rad food on the barbs,” she said, pointing to where several students grilled various meats. The smell mingled in the air with that wonderful quality of cooked onion, bread, and well-done meat.

  “Give me like five, I’ll go. Have you seen Brandon, yet?”

  “Ah.” Danielle gave her smug, I thought you’d ask that smile, before shaking her head. “Not yet. Sure he’ll turn up, knowing you’re here, though.”

  “Shut up,” Maya said, flushing in spite of herself. She really needed to get over the embarrassment part. She might be a grown woman now, but her emotions still felt the same as when she was fifteen. Just with some more experience added on top.

  Finally recovered, she brushed down her neat blue dress and joined Danielle on her hunt through the party, inspecting the location while drinking their Coors Light. Not so bad. Pretty big lake. On the other side, there seemed to be people riding horses, too. Maybe a family that lived by the lake? A riding school? A small group of college students were making their way over to the riders, maybe to inquire. A small group of people were playing beer pong – another focused on a dart board pinned to a signpost. Maya edged towards the beer pong, and Danielle groaned.

  “Maya, no. People hate you at college already. They hated you in high school. They’ll always hate you for this.”

  “Can I join in?” Maya ignored her friend, and the group of men and women stared at her.

  “She’s really, really good,” Danielle added. “No one wants to play her anymore.”

  “Come with us, then,” one of the women said. It seemed to be a guys versus girls game. Maya grinned, taking her place on the girl’s team. The guys got to start first, but every shot she fired sank straight into the cup. She didn’t bother leaning forward. Just a simple flick, envisioning her target – easy. The four guys on the other team began jeering, swaggering, while the three girls laughed, giving Maya high fives. Maya bounced a couple of shots as well, which caused one of the men to say that “Bouncing is for pussies,” which Danielle replied, “Losing is for dicks.”

  The game ended when Maya flicked the last shot in, forcing them to drink another cup. Danielle dragged her away before she could get involved in the next game.

  “You’re gonna be there all night with your scary accurate shots.”

  “I wanna try darts,” Maya said, now eyeing the dart board, already seeing all her darts burrowing into the sixty-pointer.

  “No. No showing off for you.” Danielle tapped her on the head, and Maya pouted. She didn’t know why, exactly, but she’d always been good at things that required accuracy. It just made sense to her. Whatever she held in her hands was an extension of herself. But it did cause a lot of people to dislike her as well, and no one wanted to play beer pong with her.

  Shame.

  “I hate thinking about the amount of people about to get laid tonight,” Danielle said with a slight groan of frustration, watching one couple make out in a way that made the heat in Maya’s cheeks rise.

  “Then don’t,” Maya said, now dragging her friend over to the barbecues. If no beer pong or darts, they could at least eat. She still hadn’t spotted Brandon yet and glanced at her phone again, to the text message that confirmed he was planning to go. Including the one thing she disliked about messaging Brandon – all the stupid emoticons he punctuated his words with. He’d sent about twenty wink and kiss emojis in the final message, but she still didn’t have the heart to attempt to lecture him on this. They weren’t dating, and she didn’t want to sour the friendship they already had by telling him what to do. But fucking hell, those emojis got on her nerves.

  A group of women seemed to be flocking around one particular barbecue, and Maya could see why. Overly handsome dude, wearing nothing but surfer shorts. Danielle stared longingly at him, but Maya dragged them over to one where a short, portly man served them instead, selecting a cheeseburger each.

&
nbsp; The longer she stayed at this place, without a sign of Brandon, the more anxious she became. She checked and doubled checked her phone often, and ended up sending a couple of messages to him, hopefully not sounding too desperate to see him. She mostly tagged with Danielle. Maya’s smiles and laughter had an edge to them the whole while. Her thoughts kept shifting to the little games people played, and she wanted to distract herself with them.

  Afternoon shifted to evening. Some people drifted away to their hotel rooms, others left, and others still put up tents around the lake. Already the lake resembled a sort of unholy dumping ground, with all the debris left by students, some of it floating on top of the otherwise pristine lake. A few ducks pecked at a discarded burger on the lake bank. Maya herself sat on the edge of one of the piers, phone in her lap, and still no response from Brandon. The previous excitement in Maya had dulled to a sharp disappointment, as she had to accept that Brandon hadn’t come and would probably offer an excuse tomorrow as to why he didn’t.

  She knew there wasn’t anything wrong with him. She’d seen him online on Facebook. And through some ferocious stalking, caught a post from one of Brandon’s friends who declared that he was having a man’s night in with Fortnite and friends, with a picture that included Brandon grinning as he held a controller in his hands.

  It’s not like we’re dating, she reminded herself. It’s not like I insinuated that this was a date or anything. Just something the other college students were doing.

  It still stung to think that he couldn’t have bothered to at least message her. She didn’t look forward to returning to the hotel room booked out for her. Danielle would comfort her, and Charlotte might bug her later on with Tom or Brett and tell her there’s more fish in the sea.

 

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