The Battle for Astodia

by Maryam Durrani

  Clarice’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Lance.

  “So, you’re on their side now, too?”

  “I never joined the rebels to fulfill your selfish wishes of taking the throne. You used all of us, and when the rest of the rebels find out, you’ll never last. So, for the last time, please. Do the right thing.”

  Clarice was fuming, her face mad. Her eyes were ablaze.

  “You don’t want to do this,” I said gently.

  “I’ve been waiting for this day my whole life. You think I’ll throw all my hard work away? Years of gathering little rebels who would one day form my army, and to give it all up now because you said ‘please’?” Her eyes were now focused on me as I neared them.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lance move, Xavier letting go of him.

  “Then why don’t you kill him now?” I pressed. “I know you can’t do it, Clarice. Why are you holding back? We’re all waiting.”

  Clarice’s eyes flashed, and suddenly, Lance lunged, knocking the knife out of her hand. Clarice screamed, toppling sideways, but not before giving Lance a good kick in the jaw. The king stayed frozen on his chair, and I took action. The doors swung open again, and a bow pointed right at my chest. Lance scrambled for the knife, fighting and twisting with Clarice on the ground.

  “Freeze,” Demetria ordered. The arrow was notched, pointing right at my heart.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing. She’s going to abuse her power—she already has! She let all these people die so that Lorelle could become her puppet queen,” I protested.

  Demetria’s eyes flicked to Clarice. “Is this true?” As she inched towards them, I realized she had a limp.

  “I will give you all this castle. The rooms will be filled with rebels. This kingdom will be ours,” she said as she fought against Lance.

  “Is it true that you used us to get to the throne?”

  “It was all for good purpose.” Her hand grabbed the knife and sliced it upwards, catching Lance’s eyebrow. He fell back, clutching his face as blood seeped through his fingers.

  As Demetria furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of what to do, Clarice stood up, clutching the knife. She turned her attention to the king.

  I lunged for my sword. Demetria aimed her bow at me and let go. The arrow whizzed past my shoulder. She reached behind her, pulling out another arrow and nocking it.

  We stood, each waiting for the other to make a move. Clarice was too close to the king—if I moved, she would end him. Demetria had her arrow pointed at Xavier, and Lance was bleeding from the gash across his face on the floor. The king sat on the throne, watching the scene unfold before him.

  “Nobody move,” I said under my breath. Xavier held up his hands, eyes fixed on Demetria.

  “Demetria,” Lance said through gritted teeth, “she cannot rule Astodia, and you know it. Lorelle should be the one to take the throne, not her—and you know she’ll do whatever she can to take it from her own daughter. Even if it means death.”

  Demetria’s eyes fell on Clarice.

  Everyone held their breaths.

  Before she could even change the direction of the arrow towards Clarice, the handle of a knife protruded from her chest.

  Clarice had thrown it.

  “No!” The scream tore from Lance’s throat. Demetria fell to her knees, eyes wide in shock. As she dropped her hand, she released the arrow.

  No.

  As it sailed through the air, I knew where it would hit.

  The arrow pierced through the king’s chest.

  This time, I was the one to scream. I would never know my history, where I came from. I would never know why he chose me.

  Clarice lunged towards Demetria across the throne room, sliding on her stomach.

  “Why didn’t you move?” I screamed at the king, but his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped forward, falling off the dais.

  “I am now queen,” Clarice stood up. She bent over and ripped the crown off his head, putting it on hers. She laughed, her voice crazed with power. “I am queen!” she screamed.

  Lorelle was queen. Clarice was a madwoman.

  “Adalia!” a voice yelled. My heart sank.

  I turned my attention to Xavier. His eyes were on me, his face pale. His father had just been murdered in front of him.

  I held out my hand. Come.

  He understood. He stepped towards me, slowly.

  “Kill her.”

  And listened to him for once.

  I grabbed the sticky red sword that lay on the floor. My name, engraved in the hilt, was filled with dark droplets of blood. I fixed my grip on the heavy piece of metal, and turned towards her. She had the bow and arrow in her hand, pointed towards Xavier.

  I froze.

  “Without the prince, Lorelle will be the only surviving heir,” she said, letting go of the arrow. My stomach dropped.

  Suddenly, she groaned, dropping the bow. As she crumpled to the ground, I saw Lance standing behind her, his chest rising and falling, face covered in blood. I walked towards her, and in a fit of rage, lifted my sword over my head.

  “Do it,” she smiled, her teeth blood-stained. “If you dare, do it!”

  I plunged the sword into her abdomen and pushed with all the force I could muster, hatred and anguish bubbling inside of me.

  Clarice lay on the floor, her face slowly paling. I put one boot on her back, pulling the sword out.

  My eyes met Lance’s, who stood there, breathing heavily. He pointed behind me. I turned, feeling my stomach sink.

  Xavier lay on his back, the arrow protruding from his chest.

  TWENTY SIX

  I always got my way.

  From the beginning; my requests to the king, my wishes, clothing, weapons—if I disliked somebody, scaring them away was too easy. I lived in a castle. My stomach was always full. I stood beside the highest power in the land; the man who made the rules for the kingdom. That’s why I never complained, never questioned his orders. I had what I needed, and everything was always under my control.

  But as I sat here, next to the prince as he bled out, I couldn’t control anything. I didn’t know if he would make it. To me, his death was impossible. Any second now, the bleeding would stop and he would sit up and tease me about my hair.

  I was not in control.

  I balled up the sheets in my hands as I sat beside him.

  “Wake up!”

  His eyes fluttered open. “I’m awake,” he said softly, but it was more of a wheeze.

  “You’re going to make it,” I said to him, gripping his hand. He lay on the bed, his face deathly pale. “I promise.” I was hell-bent on it. There was no way he could leave me.

  “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t promise that. We both know how this is going to,” he coughed weakly, “end.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said angrily, resting my head on his

  chest. His heartbeat was slowing. Don’t you dare. “You made it this far,” I told him, looking up. His eyes were beautiful. Images of the queen fluttered around in my head, the day she lay on the same bed, holding my hand. “I went through so much to save your life. I know you’re not going anywhere,” I smiled. “The bleeding will stop.”

  A scarlet flower bloomed on the white sheets that covered him. Blood leaked through the bandages, tainting. Taunting.

  A man entered the room, tapping my shoulder. “We need to change the bandages. Please exit the room.”

  “I’m not leaving.” I held my ground.

  “Miss—”

  “Adalia. I don’t want you to see me like this. Please,” Xavier said weakly.

  “Alright,” I gave in. Xavier ran his fingers through my hair as I got to my feet. “I’ll see you soon,” I whispered. I kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back, right after they’re done.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me down towards him. He kissed me.

  When I pulled back, there were tears in his eyes.

  I pretended I hadn’t seen them.

  I pace
d. I paced outside the room Xavier was healing in. The doctors were in there; he would be fine. They were the finest healers in the land. Nothing could go wrong.

  “Are you alright?” Lance asked me.

  “Of course,” I smiled at him reassuringly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He’ll make it. There’s no need to worry.

  He stepped towards me, his eyes sad. “You’re worrying me.”

  “Why would I be?” I waved him away. “I’m okay.” He

  nodded and took my hands. I looked down. My hands were trembling. Wide-eyed, I pulled them back. “It’s just nerves,” I assured him.

  “Adalia,” he whispered. His voice was serious. “Come here.” He pulled me into his arms. My chin rested on his shoulder. “You’re not okay,” he said. “I’m here. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

  I was not okay.

  I held the back of his shirt in my fists tightly, holding back sobs.

  The doors opened.

  “He wants to see you,” the man said. I let go of Lance.

  “Wait here.” I wiped my eyes before facing him. He nodded as I left him, shutting the door behind me. I ran to Xavier’s side, lifting his hands in mine.

  “You’ll be okay?” It was a question; one I knew the answer to.

  He shook his head.

  I covered my face with my hands and his hands and he didn’t pull them back.

  “I love you,” he said. “I hope to see you again, one day.”

  I was shouting and shaking him, but he wasn’t coming back. I couldn’t see his golden eyes anymore. I couldn’t see them. I sank to my knees and stared at his lifeless body, my eyes drained from tears. My body drained from energy. I got to my feet, wiping my eyes.

  My chest heaved. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs contracted, and I gasped for air. I felt empty.

  TWENTY SEVEN

  I stood in a room filled with many people, waiting. They were all waiting.

  Lance wrapped his fingers around my hand and gave me a smile which I returned, but there was no feeling behind it. Emptiness hung in my chest where my heart should’ve been beating.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked me. I opened my mouth to reply, but suddenly, the doors swung open, cutting me off.

  Lorelle walked into the room, slowly. She looked beautiful, her hair up, a braid circling the bun that lay on the back of her head. Her cheeks were pink and her lips red, her blue eyes bright and cheerful. A gold dress wrapped itself around her slim figure, her sleeves long and hanging on either side of her body, past her fingertips.

  “She looks amazing,” Lance said, eyes wide.

  “A dress can change a person,” I said with a nod. Her dream was finally coming true. She always wanted to be a princess, and here she was; two steps away from being queen.

  She stepped onto the dais, turning to face us. I smiled, and her smile widened as she saw us. I could tell she was fighting the urge to wave at us.

  “I hope she doesn’t trip,” Aland whispered beside me. Charlotte elbowed him shut.

  Lorelle cleared her throat as the man behind her spoke

  words I didn’t pay attention to.

  And then the crown was brought to him on a special velvet pillow. He lifted it up as we all held our breaths. All eyes were on the jeweled object as it was lowered onto Lorelle’s head.

  “Wow,” Lance said in amazement.

  Lorelle stepped off the dais, and the entire gathering erupted into cheers. About fifty people marched in with all sorts of foods as the tables were set.

  “I’ll be back,” I patted Lance’s shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lorelle walk straight into Darren’s arms.

  “Where are you going?” Lance asked.

  “I need some air,” I said. “I’ll be back,” I assured him again, and he gave me a nod. He pulled away and joined Aland and Charlotte, grabbing a goblet from a tray and taking a sip. He smiled at me over his shoulder, and I waved.

  I left, walking past the doors and into the large, cold hallway. People were walking around, dressed up for the coronation. I took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. I kicked off my slippers then, holding them in my hands. They pinched my toes.

  I headed for the stairs, down the doors to the courtyard. I threw them open and took a long breath of fresh air. Lorelle was queen, and my job was done. My mission was finally over.

  There was an ache in my chest, a strange emptiness. As I walked through the castle and across the courtyard, I felt nothing except an unbearable loneliness.

  I lifted my skirts and made my way towards the gates.

  I’ll be back.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the castle one last time. At the doors that I so often ran in and out of, completing tasks and missions for the king. The doors Xavier would stand behind, waiting for me.

  If it is my destiny to return, I will find my way back.

  And then, I started to run.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’d like to thank my mom, for listening to me rant about crazy new ideas I’d come up for my book and sitting through my whining about writer’s block. I’d like to thank my friends, my aunt, and all of my many readers who read my book and encouraged me to have it published.

  And finally, special thanks to my dad who helped me make this book happen. I really couldn’t have done this without you.