by Ella Fields
His bland tone and the stiff set of his shoulders caused my mind to whirl. Though, surely, if they’d planned to do me harm, they’d have done so by now. No one had so much as touched me, and besides, they’d be foolish to.
Sinshell might have been a broken kingdom, but the human kingdom would need all the help they could muster if they stood a chance at surviving the blood king.
The great hall was void of anything but two thrones upon a wooden dais, wrapped within two steps. The polished wooden doors opened to reveal the king and queen already seated, their hushed bickering ceasing at the sight of us.
Forced smiles fell into place as they rose. Bron’s mother, Sabrina, was aging at the eyes and mouth but beautiful for it all the same. His father, red-haired and rotund, dragged a finger over his graying moustache, then wiped his hand down his red and brown regalia. “Welcome, Princess Opal.”
“We are so sorry to hear of your father’s passing. It grieves us so to know that if our son had just stayed put during these trying times, then perhaps he would still live.”
Bron looked at the ground, and I fumbled for a response, Sabrina’s brown curls sliding over her shoulder as she shot a glance at her husband. “Thank you,” I finally settled on as a cold weight pressed behind my eyes. “He is greatly missed.”
The queen’s words spoke of a reluctance to have her son anywhere near us more than guilt for not being able to keep a handle on him. Even so, that twinge in my chest worsened as all the many useless what-ifs returned.
“We’ve prepared your quarters for you,” the king said with a clearing of his throat, shaking me loose from my tormenting thoughts. “We hope you will find them pleasing.” Another look from his wife had him sputtering, “Oh, and of course, we will ensure no harm befalls you under our watch.”
“That is most gracious of you indeed, but I must ask of the plans to marry—”
“Child.” Sabrina released a breath that sounded like more of a sigh. “May I be frank?”
I was no child. A fact she was well aware of. Still, given little choice, I nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Stepping down from the dais, she walked toward me with her gown, a sky-blue mixture of ruffles and lace, trailing behind her. A silken gloved arm slid through mine. “I will show you to your rooms while we chat.” We headed through the imposing doors before I could find words for the king or prince and straight to the stairs I’d passed on our way in.
Her arm stayed looped through mine the entire way, and though I waited, drinking in the dancing ornate sconces and the portraits on the wooden panels of the walls that were flanked by bronze and gold tapestries, Sabrina didn’t say a word until we’d reached the very top of the stairwell.
Atop the four steep turns of stairs, a short hall led to only one heavy wooden door, the queen losing her hold on my arm as she struggled to get it open. I could’ve opened it for her just by willing it to, but I doubted she’d appreciate the display of our differences very much.
With a huff that sent spirals of curls from her face, Sabrina opened the door and swept a hand wide for me to enter first. Slowly, I did and recognized I was inside one of the square towers I’d seen on my journey into the city, this one likely the shorter one out of the four given the size of the stairwell and room.
The bronze, red, and gold décor had made its way into these rooms too. The bed, quilted in red with patterned gold whorls and tasseled throw pillows, sat in the center of the room. Two wooden chests of drawers on either side housed shining red metal lanterns, void of flame.
The sight of the crimson shade tempted my mind to dance toward gruesome places.
“There’s a bathing room just through this door,” Sabrina said, knocking on the closed wood and pulling me from my near-spiral. “The maids have provided you with enough essentials…” She eyed my ensemble, the lack of belongings. “I shall ask them to provide some more gowns for you and sleepwear.”
I nodded, murmuring my thanks as my eyes flitted across the bare walls, the large golden trunk over by the lone arched window. “That’s beautiful,” I said, if not for something to say at all, as I stepped closer to take in the engravings upon it. The wood had been carved by an expert hand. Little creatures, squirrels and rabbits, played amongst trees in the gold-painted wood. A purchase, no doubt, from a Sinshell woodworker.
“Inside it, you’ll find your first round of projects.”
That pulled my hand away from the trunk. I spun to the queen, who stood poised, chin high with her hands clasped before her. “Projects?”
A small smile curved her lips, and then she sighed. “My dear, did you truly think we’d harbor a faerie princess for any reason other than to help? Surely, you are not so young as to be unaccustomed to such politics.”
Against my urgent wish for them not to, my cheeks warmed. “What would you have me do?” Mending, I guessed, or perhaps crafting paintings or pottery.
The thought jarred and awakened as Sabrina’s smile grew into something real and threatening. “Our son informed us of your ability to weave gold.”
Breath sailed from me. “I-I don’t,” I started, then tried again. “I cannot just—”
“Spare me your excuses, Princess.” Walking to the trunk, the queen opened it to reveal mounds of clothing inside, and I tripped back toward the bed. “Our armies have been decimated. The few left help to protect us, yes, but they won’t be enough should trouble arrive on our doorstep. And arrive it will.” She straightened, demure and unblinking. “We need more soldiers, and therefore more coin, our coffers draining faster by the month with every ship forced to turn away from our shores as they cannot risk the danger of trading with us.”
“You… but I don’t think you understand,” I said even though her words made perfect sense. “It is not something I can just do on command. Honestly, it has only happened a handful of times. All of them accidental.”
The queen nodded once, then looked at the ground, lips pursed. When her eyes rose, her voice lowered, deepened with warning. “Then I suggest you figure out how you did it, and do it again.” I blinked, eyes stinging with an onslaught of tears that would never arrive. “A great many times, and should you prove yourself worthy”—she tilted a bony shoulder—“then we will discuss marriage.”
She turned for the door, and I raced after her, pleading, “No, please. Wait.”
It closed in my face, numerous locks turning on the other side before I could rattle the handle. “No trying to escape. You’ll be captured before you even reach the castle walls.”
I slumped against the door, terror a stake tearing slowly through my heart.
“Oh, and none of that faerie magic. Unless, of course”—she laughed softly, the sound more of a tinkling threat—“it involves providing us with gold.”
Her steps downstairs were drowned by each stampeding breath burning past my lips. Swallowing thickly, I turned back to my new room. To my new home.
To my cell.
The late glow of the sun leaked over the wooden floors, slowly chased away by the growing shadows.
I didn’t light the lanterns nor the few golden sconces on the walls.
Upon the bed, I stared at that beautiful trunk, wondering how I’d gotten here—a prisoner and a murderer. As the moon formed the shape of a scythe, I surmised an ending of this nature was only fair, and perhaps this was exactly where I was supposed to waste my final days.
In a crimson and gold cage.
Beneath the low-lying arched window, the trunk mocked me—sang of promises I couldn’t see myself keeping and finding a way out of. For even if I could summon the energy to do as I’d been tasked and weave gold thread into the garments inside, they would still not allow me to leave.
My mother would need to send for me, but that would require an army, of which we were now lacking with the remaining soldiers needed to protect our kingdom.
The room had grown dark by the time a servant knocked on the door, then opened it to deliver a tray that shook in her hands. You
ng and pale, the woman stuttered, “P-princess, it is awfully dark in here.”
Before her next breath, sun-captured flames danced within the sconces on each wall, revealing her frightened blue eyes. I might not use magic to escape, but I’d use it as I would every other limb. It was a part of who I was, as necessary and vital as breathing. “Just leave it on the trunk,” I muttered. “Thank you.”
She did as requested, hurrying out of the room as though I would eat her for dinner instead.
I ate nothing, but I opened the window above the fish stew before flopping sideways over the bed to stare at the night sky.
The stars still twinkled, the moon still shone, yet it now felt as though they too mocked me from where they sat so high above us all—a foolish golden princess who’d fallen for a known enemy’s tricks and had brought ruin upon all.
Morning brought with it a visitor. My eyes fluttered open when the door did, a near-silent creak of the hinges and a familiar scent alerting me to the prince’s entry.
“Opal,” he whispered as though I were asleep when he could see my eyes upon him. Closing the door, he leaned against it and brushed his hands over his cheeks. “I don’t even know what to say other than I’m sorry.”
“Did you know?” I asked, sitting up and pushing my hair back from my shoulders. “Did you know this was their plan for me all along?”
Toying with the hem of his shirt, he took a cautious step forward, gleaming boots meeting the soft red carpet. “Opal, you have an incredible gift. One that could help us turn this nightmare around…”
“My mother will be very displeased.” I said the words with a low vehemence.
He received them for the warning they were, swallowing as he nodded. “I understand, truly.” I scowled, twisting my legs away from him as he came to the bed and dared to take a seat beside me. “We will marry, okay? We will make Nodoya the great realm it once was, but to do that, we need your help first.”
“Agreeing to marry you was help enough,” I said before I could think better of it, my eyes widening at my own arrogance. “But you humans never are content with all you’ve been given.”
A lilting smile shaped his lips, but it failed to fill the dark eyes that stared back at me. “True, but you must believe me when I say that if I thought any harm would befall you, I would not have gone ahead with this.”
“Liar,” I hissed, rising and taking the tray from the trunk. It clanged to the floor as I flung the wooden lid open, revealing rivers of color. “You’d have agreed anyway because you are no king. You are a prince, and you’ve little choice.”
His jaw clenched, teeth gritted.
I sat upon the floor, tugging a velvet-lined cloak from the chest and spreading it over my lap. “Leave me, for it seems I have miracles to tend to.”
“You did it before,” Bron said with a forced, grating laugh. “Can you not just do so again?”
“If it were that easy, these garments would have been replaced with others by now, wouldn’t they?” I knew I should have watched my tone and chosen my words more carefully, but I’d spent most of my life doing just that, and in the end, it had done nothing good.
Not for me nor those I loved.
“You can do this. I know you can. I’ve seen it.” The prince stood. “And then we will have our revenge, Opal, this I swear to you.”
Revenge.
The word had never sounded more attractive, had never caused my heart to refire in such a violent, deafening way. I wanted it more than I remembered wanting anything—knew that I would need it. I stared down at the rippling fabric. “We will die trying.”
Bron’s footsteps halted halfway to the door. “But try we must.” He hesitated, then murmured, “I shall return tomorrow if that is okay with you?”
I said nothing, knowing that was his way of saying the time for lamenting my fate and dawdling had come to an end.
Once the door closed, the latches clicked on the other side, and I willed my heating blood to calm so I could try to focus.
There was nothing else I could do. I wasn’t leaving this castle alive unless I’d given them what they wanted, and even then, the chances of that happening seemed slim. Still, it was all I had, and though I was tired, so stars-damned tired of being told what to do, I’d learned that doing what I wanted led to far graver fates.
Hours sped by, the sun dragging toward the bottom of the sky as I sat with that first cloak, now spread before me over the floor. Tears threatened, but I knew they wouldn’t fall. Instead, they left an ache in my skull that I tried to infuse into my unachievable task.
By nightfall, all I’d managed to do was undo the previous stitching, ragged pieces of thread waiting to be rewoven with gold.
My fingers brushed and glided over every inch of fabric, and then I moved on to the next, a tunic made from fine cotton, and willed my heart to unspool before me into the awaiting garment.
Either it refused or something was missing, something was wrong, but I couldn’t piece together what that could be, what that could mean, as I thought back to the handful of times gold had spun from beneath my fingers before.
Another tray of food was delivered, and my uneaten lunch taken away. I’d managed a few sips of water, feeling guilty when I’d remembered my mother and how she’d promised to make herself do what felt impossible when all she wanted was to fade away and allow her soul to find my father.
The door closed once more, the servant girl never once looking my way.
She’d be reporting to the queen, of that I was sure, and after tearing more clothing from the trunk and staring at it in dismay, the days spent eating poorly in my own kingdom and eating nothing here began to catch up with me. I grew dizzy, my eyelids unbearably heavy, and slumped over the clothing on the floor to stare at the filigreed ceiling.
A clack sounded upon the windowsill. I didn’t move. Another bird hoping I’d throw them my uneaten food.
“Sunshine, what in the bleeding stars are you doing in this putrid place?”
Sitting against the window frame with one booted foot perched on the floor and the other upon the wooden sill, the intruder cocked his head. “I’ve been looking all over the countryside for you.”
Not a bird. I wished it had been.
A wolf.
“Well?” Beneath the hood of his cloak, his eyes gleamed, roaming over me in a quick, assessing sweep. “Did they steal your tongue? I hope not.” His mouth curved. “I am rather fond of it.”
“You,” I breathed, my heart finally restarting with a painful thud.
His smirk widened into a grin. “Me.”
I scrambled back over the clothing, hands slipping on silk and chiffon. “No.”
He watched from his perch, a brow poised high. “No?” His cloak absorbed the starlight as he tilted forward. “No, what?”
“You’re… you’re him, and you killed him.”
A low laugh fell from sin-shaped lips, the roughened sound lighting his eyes. “Sunshine, though I do find your befuddlement amusing, you’re making very little sense.”
“My father.” I climbed to my knees, my gown in tangles beneath and around me. “You killed him,” I seethed through my teeth, each word fire, “and you ate his heart.”
The blood king’s lips pursed. “Oh, that.”
A heavy silence fell like a noose to wrap around my neck, freezing my desire to scream for help, to alert the guards below the stairs that the enemy had breached their walls. That he might kill me.
“So it was you,” he murmured, so soft, too soft, and I ground my teeth against the fluttering inside my empty stomach. “The black swan.”
“What swan?”
“Don’t even attempt it.” Throwing his hand at me, he said, “We both know you were there.”
About to call out, my intentions wilted when the king tutted. “I wouldn’t do that. You’d hate for someone else to die because of you, now wouldn’t you?” I swallowed, my eyes shuttering. “It wasn’t your fault really. Sheltered, shrouded in a b
ubble of innocence as you were, why, I’ll bet your only responsibility in this life has been…” He feigned thought. “To save yourself for breeding, perhaps?”
He hummed, receiving confirmation he hadn’t needed when I said nothing. “As I was saying, even if you hadn’t been guileless, how would you have known who I am?”
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to alleviate the guilt that weighed my every breath or cause it to spread like a forest fire.
“Those from this side of the realm who have seen me rarely live to tell the tale.”
“Why?” A useless, stupid question I shouldn’t have set free.
“Why what?” Midnight rippled over his black attire, the breeze flowing around him to kiss my burning skin. “Why did I deceive you? That should be obvious.” His words carried a dry humor I wanted to wring out of him until he begged for me to stop. “Why did I kiss you? Well, my pretty little broodmare, that should also be obvious by now being that—”
“Enough. Why did you kill him?”
“You’re a little rude. Has anyone ever told you that?” He contemplated the thought, his tongue skimming his upper lip, and I directed my eyes to my shaking hands. “Perhaps you’ve been too spoiled in that lovely kingdom of yours. Manners, my black swan, are not archaic, nor are they barbaric. They are ingrained in our heritage and a part of who we are.”
I nearly laughed at the absurdity, hissing, “You’re the barbarian, a savage with no heart. Where were your fucking manners when you murdered my father, my people?”
A smile entered his voice, but I kept my attention fixed on my twisting, squeezing fingers. “We’ve all the time in the world for stories, but unfortunately, that time has not yet come.”
I looked up when his other foot dropped to the floor with a controlled thump so as not to alert anyone to his presence. “Where are the others?”
“Who?” he asked, rising to his feet.
I didn’t stand, didn’t care that a monster was two steps away from looming over me even though I should have. “Your beast warriors. You’re here to invade and conquer, are you not?”
