by J. M. Kearl
His grip tightened then he let go of me and sighed.
I hurried around him, my mind reeling on what I could do. If I touched Aric again would I be able to see the rest? I’d never been cut off before.
“Aric is cursed,” Zyacus said from behind me. I halted turning on my toes. “I saw you staring at the birthmark on his wrist.”
I grabbed Zyacus’s hand and dragged him into a quiet room which I realized too late was a small closet with cleaning supplies that left us—close. “Cursed how?”
“If you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask. Dragging me into a closet is a little unnecessary.”
“This is not the time for your flirtatious antics.”
Rubbing his chin, he said, “His mother made a bargain during the Queens Challenge that would cost a life. The bargain also said the person would be marked. It’s only logical it would be his life, given the sign of death on his wrist.”
“How do you know that? And if that’s true, why is he still alive?”
Zyacus’s eyes roamed over my face. “Don’t you know your own history?”
I shoved him and he barely moved. I’d read accounts on the Queens Challenge probably a hundred times and I didn’t recall anything about a bargain Kyria made for a life. “Don’t insult me or we’re not having this conversation.”
I hated the beautiful smile that followed my pushing him. He must truly enjoy fighting with me. “Magic works in strange ways. Maybe the curse wanted her to suffer, to know that her boy could die at any time, grow to love him more each day because she’d made that bargain so easily. I’ll ask again, what happened when Aric touched you?”
Could I trust him with my secret? Could I trust our one-time enemy kingdom with the knowledge of my own curse? Could I trust the boy I loved to hate? “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
His expression grew serious. “I promise.”
My mouth felt like I’d eaten a spoonful of dirt at the thought of exposing my curse. Even if he looked sincere, I couldn’t take his word for it. People were willing to die to keep my secret, willing to let others die. “First tell me what human-like creature or cursed person from Collweya could have killed Finnick and that horse so gruesomely.” Could possibly kill Aric or me.
Zyacus narrowed his eyes. “I tell you Aric’s cursed and you suddenly think he’s a ravenous killer?”
“I never said anything about the killer being Aric—you did.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head and holding up a finger. “You said cursed person, emphasis on the curse part. And what makes you think it was a human that killed them?”
“I saw Finnick die,” I said and then clamped my mouth shut. Story was I was in my room, nowhere near Finnick the night he was killed. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”
His eyes bore into mine, as if his very stare could drag the truth from me. I hoped mine would do the same. “So that’s why you’ve been hiding away for days,” he mused. “How about a truth for a truth?”
“Nothing happened when Aric touched me,” I held his gaze hoping to cover my untruthfulness. “I don’t know why you think anything did.”
“You’re lying.” His voice was quiet but fierce. “You have exceptionally gifted parents, not to mention a grandmother who gets glimpses of the future and yet you expect people believe you have no special ability beyond being magic-born?”
“So what if I am normal?’’ I said with a shrug. “And if I wasn’t, I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me. That’s the way it’s always been.”
“I told you about Aric’s impending death,” he said flatly. “Something he doesn’t tell many about. Something I doubt he wants Legacy to know, by the way. At least for now. So don’t say anything.”
“For all I know it could be a lie.” I stepped out of the closet. “You want a truth? Perhaps you should try not ignoring me and acting like an ass every chance you get. Oh, and put a leash on your girlfriend before she gets hurt.” I slammed the door, leaving him inside and rushed off when I saw Aric coming down the steps.
I’d find out about the creature from the north with red eyes on my own, without having to tell my secret.
Chapter 14
At the Delhoon castle, the girls and I rummaged through my closet to find dresses for the festival. Many of them I’d never worn. Some had long sleeves and were form-fitting and silky; others were ball gowns with heavy fabric and lots of folds. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for but I wanted it to glitter like the stars.
Lora pulled down a dusty pink ball gown, sleeveless with a high neckline. “I love this,” she said, almost squealing. “I’ve never been able to wear something so beautiful. Warlord Asger doesn’t have women wear dresses to her events.”
It was funny to watch Lora, warrior girl always in pants, weapons and boots get so excited over a frilly dress.
“It’s all yours,” I said, smiling as she held it up against her body. It pooled far past her feet however. “We might need Bindy to adjust it for you, it looks a little long.”
“I’ll ask her now! I can’t wait to try it on.” Lora darted out of my closet which was bigger than my dorm room back at the academy.
I sat on a soft white sofa while the girls chose their gowns. I wanted to make sure they had their pick so I didn’t take something they wanted. I’d been to so many of these parties my whole life; it wasn’t as exciting for me. Freya chose an indigo-colored dress, empire-waisted, made of pure silk with sheer long sleeves. Taz would be floored when he saw her. I’d probably have to keep reminding him to close his mouth.
And Legacy, probably the most beautiful of us all, chose a bold, blood-red strapless ball gown that had a bodice adorned in small jewels. When she stepped out from behind the changing curtain, all of us stared at her. The color was perfect with her cool skin tone and dark hair. “How do I look? Is it too much?”
I shook my head. “It’s perfect.” The others emphatically agreed. I was sure Aric would fall in love if he hadn’t already. Thinking of him made my stomach churn. Cursed to die and my vision, had it not been cut short thanks to Zyacus, would have shown me how. I had yet to tell her or anyone. How would I even begin? “I’m sorry, but your boyfriend is going to die soon, better say goodbye now.” Or “You know that birthmark on his wrist? It means he’s cursed and since I’ve never stopped anyone from dying before, I doubt I can this time.”
“What about you? It’s your birthday,” Legacy said and began rummaging through the closet.
“I’ll find something. You should get your hair done in the meantime.”
I flipped through the dresses, nothing catching my eye, even if they were all pretty. Maybe because I couldn’t focus; all I could think about was Aric, this curse, and what I was going to do about it. Then there was the issue of Aric being here in Delhoon in the first place which could cause problems with Kyria and Collweya. I sat back down and stared at nothing in particular letting my vision become unfocused. The girls laughed in the other room, blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil.
Bindy knocked on the closet door frame and I sat up straighter. Folded over her arm was a black dress, accented with shiny gold designs, little whirls and flowing floral patterns covering it from the neckline to the bottom. She held it up. “Try this on, will you?”
When I stood before the mirror with the dress on, my eyes roamed over my form that now appeared womanly instead of girlish. My waist cut in dramatically compared to my hips and chest. The fabric clung to my body until it hit mid-thigh but loose enough that I could move, even fight if necessary. The neckline was modest, exposing my collar bones but left my cleavage to the imagination. A three-inch strap held the dress over my right shoulder, leaving my defined arms exposed. The bottom trailed behind me at least two feet.
Bindy smiled in the mirror beside me. “Your father might make you change.”
I laughed but heat rose in my cheeks. I had always worn dresses that were loose and unpretentious, nothing like this. “Seventeen is a good age
to make a statement,” Bindy said, probably noticing my blush. “It’s fit for a woman but appropriate for a young lady.”
“Thank you, Bindy.” She took the end of my braid in hand. “Now to do something with this hair.”
The girls fawned over my dress and the small gold crown that sat atop my long loose waves of hair. Legacy threatened to snatch it off me, and I wasn’t sure if she meant the dress or crown. Freya kept saying I actually looked like a princess now, and Lora kept grinning at me like this was the first time she’d ever seen me, her princess.
On our way out the door, Lora leaned her platinum-blonde head close, “Prince Zyacus is going to forget all about that girlfriend of his when he sees you.”
I furrowed my brow. “He can’t stand me, no matter how beautiful I may look.”
Hooking her elbow with mine, she giggled. “I think the only person blind to his affection for you, is you.”
I looked down at her, she barely reached my chin in height. “If that were true then why does he pretend I don’t exist more than half the time?”
“Maybe he’s afraid. I don’t know, I can’t read his mind but I see the way he looks at you.” She smiled. “And it’s far from dislike.”
My mouth suddenly felt dry and my pulse throbbed at that thought. I needed a drink and something stronger than water. “I have to meet my parents but I’ll see you all in there.”
I turned down a hallway and Bindy and I headed for the throne room. When the guards opened the doors for us, my family was waiting dressed as royal and fancy as I. We always arrived together for these events and Bindy usually saw to it that we dressed similarly. Mother wore a stunning long-sleeved, shimmering black gown with gold jewelry. Father wore an all-black suit as did my younger brothers. Their chatter stopped when I entered. My nine-year-old twin brothers O’Syrus and Tyrus ran to me, both wrapping their arms around my waist in bone-crushing hugs. “We missed you!” they exclaimed. “Fancy dress,” O’Syrus said, dark head ramming into my arm.
“Yeah, you actually look like a lady,” Tyrus said and pinched my other arm.
I smacked both of them upside the head. “Ouch. Stop that.” As much as the two of them bugged me when I was home, I’d missed them, too.
My father pulled me into a hug. “You look beautiful. Where did my baby girl go?”
With gleaming eyes, my mother touched my cheek with the back of her fingers. “Yes, so grown up.”
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” the boys shouted, pushing each other.
“Settle down,” my father said, flicking both of them on the nose. Father slid an arm around my mother’s waist and nodded toward the door, a subtle gesture to tell his children to get moving. “Madison told me that the sparring tournaments have been postponed another month. She and the other instructors think that the Hesstian and Collweyan students aren’t ready to compete with us.”
I nodded. “They’re not, besides a handful but they will be soon.” Here at the castle, weekly or bi-weekly tournaments were held and usually it was boys versus girls. “Personally I’m ready to take on some Wargon trolls.”
Laughing, my father shook his head, and my mother shot me a glare.
My brothers pulled out their play swords made of white wood and started fighting. “I’m ready for a troll too!” O’Syrus said, swinging with all his might.
“None of you are fighting any trolls,” my mother said, firmly.
“She will in year seven,” my father said, gently patting my mother’s back. “By then she’ll be ready.”
“Boaden.” My mother pursed her lips. “Fighting them is life or death. Last year three students died in the arena. I want to disband the practice.” Both of them had their run-ins with the ugly things in the past.
“She and all academy students are training to be warriors, ready for battle.” Father’s voice was even, calm. If my mother put it up for a vote to the thirteen warlords, they’d never agree with her, they’d side with Father. “Stopping practices that are dangerous could cost them their lives and our freedom in the future.”
We stood before the ornate doors to the grand ballroom, when panic shot through me. “Wait! I need my gloves.” I’d forgotten them in my room and I’d surely be shaking many hands tonight.
As if she’d heard me, Bindy appeared. “Your gloves, Visteal.”
Holding out my hand, I sighed in relief and slipped them on. The black silk, different from my everyday gloves, reached just over my elbows, and with that, my mother said to the guards, “Open the doors, please.”
My brothers straightened up, walking like perfect gentlemen before the three of us. They knew better than to act foolishly in public. When we paused at the top of the staircase, the man who announced the arrival of important families and people said, “The royal family of Delhoon.” He paused making sure everyone turned their attention to us. “Queen Daelyn, King Boaden, Princess Visteal and Princes O’Syrus and Tyrus.”
The entire crowd bowed in hushed silence. They did so out of respect not fear. Everyone in Delhoon loved my parents, the couple who’d freed magic across the land. Their Queen, the most powerful magical being in our history. If I ever became their ruler, I hoped they revered me even half as much as her.
After five long seconds, we descended the steps and the crowd of at least two hundred broke into chatter. My family and I took our spot on an elevated platform where we always greeted people for half an hour. Then I would be free to roam around and have fun.
The aroma of cinnamon and pumpkin floated toward me. The tables off to the sides of the room were full of fall desserts, and the pile of shiny red apples looked most delicious. A pixie the size of my hand flew across the room carrying a glass of red liquid. Several of them buzzed around in fact. They were easily bribed with wine, no doubt that’s why they helped. Normally they were proud, biting little buggers.
The ceiling was enchanted with shifting colors of burnt orange, browns, and black. Almost looking like an ocean wave but with rolling fall leaves instead of white foam.
I placed my hands behind my back, eyes scanning the crowd. I spotted Queen Saveena of Hesstia, Collweyan born. Her long black hair, piled high on her head in lush curls, surrounded a small gold crown. She had pale skin that bronzed a little in the sun, and was devastatingly beautiful in the royal blue gown that hugged her curves. Zyacus had her coloring but his face more resembled his father, King Enden who stood beside his wife. A hand possessively on the curve of her lower back. Naturally, I looked for their son and other children but didn’t see them nearby.
My group of friends gathered around a drink table, laughing, and I wished I could join them. Aric stood beside his King, Faustus, the gruff bearded man was bent over in a roaring laugh. Probably already drunk.
Father’s best friend Rorin approached us first, he pulled me into a hug. “How’s the little princess? The boys at the new academy better be treating you well.”
I smiled as he pulled away. “Of course or they’ll learn a hard lesson.”
He grinned, flashing his pretty teeth. “No doubt.”
With a wave of his hand, a glass of honey-mead appeared and he handed it to my mother, then one to my father. “Thought you might want a drink.”
“Thanks, brother,” Father said, taking a sip.
I looked at him expectantly. “Where’s mine?”
His eyes drifted to my mother, who said, “One glass, Visteal.”
Rorin handed me the bubbly honey-colored drink. “I better not catch you with another one. I know you and Legacy like to ignore the rules.”
I put a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Never in my life have I broken a rule, Rorin.”
Everyone laughed at that, but my eyes grew wide and I stiffened when I saw Aric making his way toward us. Rorin noticed my reaction and turned around, stilling when he saw what I did. He looked at me then Father. “Why is my son here? And why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t planned but Visteal invited him and I couldn’t say no without p
ossibly offending Collweya,” Mother said softly. “But you should take advantage of the surprise. You haven’t seen him—”
“In ten years,” Rorin finished. “If Kyria—”
I cleared my throat. “Ekarius gave him permission to be here. Kyria doesn’t even know.”
“Hello, Faustus,” Father said loudly, silencing the rest of us as King Faustus and Aric walked up the three steps to greet us.
Swaying up the last step, Faustus grinned. “I was just telling my grandson what great parties you throw here. And of course he’s interested in a tour of the castle. His mother used to rule Delhoon, after all. It’s a shame she couldn’t come.”
One thing I knew about Faustus was that he usually said borderline inappropriate things and I was never sure if he was trying to get a rise out of us or he just didn’t care.
“She earned her banishment, trust me,” Mother said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Hello, Prince Aric,” Rorin said and it made me sad that he couldn’t even hug him. “I don’t know if you remember me—”
“I do,” Aric said, holding out his hand. “When you and Boaden came to Collweya to earn a dragon.”
They shook hands and Rorin nodded, and I got the impression if he spoke, his voice might break from sadness.
I turned away. I desperately wanted to get out of my royal duty to stand here and greet those who deemed themselves important. I hated the petty games that were played. I hated that Rorin couldn’t say who he was to Aric. I hated that everyone paraded around our castle in fancy clothes, drinking cocktails and yet most of them didn’t know my family or me at all.
Just as Saveena and Enden approached, Aric gave me a quick nod to the left and he and I stepped off to the side. “Bored?” He asked.
“Could you tell?” I said and took a drink of mead. “Have you seen Legacy yet? She looks gorgeous.”
He waved at his aunt and uncle, the Hesstian royals, then looked at me. “As do you. I hardly recognized you in that dress.” His eyes lingered on me longer than usual. Probably more from shock than anything. “But no, I haven’t seen her. She wants to introduce me to her parents, and I’m a little nervous about that.” He tugged at his collar as if to show me how nervous he was.
