The Fractured Empire (The World Apart Series Book 1)

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The Fractured Empire (The World Apart Series Book 1) Page 6

by Robin D. Mahle


  My father had tried to hide his relief when I announced my decision.

  "I know this has been a challenging dilemma for you, Adelaide, but you've made the right call. I'm confident you'll see that one day."

  "How nice that must be for you," I had replied with no small bite to my voice before laying out my terms. I was playing my trump card; I would get everything I wanted from this. I had the unkind thought that he had manipulated the situation, overreacting on purpose to force me into this very corner. Even in my anger, I wasn't sure how fair that was. I was the one who had broken our deal. So last night, I had gone him to make another.

  A small part of the roiling in my stomach was guilt that I hadn't gotten a chance to talk this over with Perry first. Though we hadn’t been friends since that night two years ago, this decision affected his life almost as much as it did mine.

  The deal had gone straight from my father to his. One of the terms of our arrangement was that we would announce our engagement at the very next official royal appearance. That was the Emperor's contribution to the deal; apparently, he was concerned I would back out. My own terms centered around being granted the freedom and funds to go to the Ever Falls unaccompanied by a royal retinue during the engagement. The prince seemed to be the only one to gain nothing from this, not that his expression betrayed that as he picked me up

  He was all smiles as I maneuvered the voluminous rose gold skirts of my gown into the backseat. The chauffeur tried to assist, but I waved him away. That would only make this exchange more awkward. The car smelled like leather and cigars, and Perry was holding a glass of whiskey. He offered me champagne, but I was already reaching for the amber liquid. I was going to need it.

  The prince's own bodyguard was already in the front seat, so Locke was following in one of the escort cars. He hadn't uttered a single word about my engagement. Not that he was normally chatty, so surely it meant nothing that he hadn’t commented.

  "You truly are lovely, Adelaide," Perry said, intruding on my thoughts.

  I wasn't sure how sincere that was, but my dress certainly was a vision. The strapless corset cinched my waist and then ballooned into a bell shape, accentuating what few curves I had. Black leather and silver buckles adorned the gathered silk folds of the hem, so the dress alternately swished and clinked softly as I walked.

  I hated that this gorgeous creation was being tainted by this questionable evening, but I had to look the part of a princess. To that end, my hair was braided to mimic the look of a crown, with loose tendrils curling around my face and down the length of my back.

  The prince didn't look so bad himself. The shoulders of his textured black leather jacket flared out, and he had added a fashionable black fedora to his usual regal attire. It worked on him. I told him as much.

  He made a mock serious face. "I'd ask what changed your mind about marrying me, but the drive to the museum is too short for you to expound upon how my unparalleled charm finally won you over." He suddenly smiled. "Truly, though, I know we’ll have to talk later. All I need to know right now is, are you sure?"

  The question startled me. I stared at him for a moment. Was that wording deliberate? Does he remember those words from that night together?

  I always appreciated that he trusted me to make my own decisions; even when they were bad, even when they got us both in trouble, even when they filled me with the dread I was feeling now. The prince was a good man, and I wasn't the type to fall in love anyway. This would be okay.

  "I'm sure. This is what I want. You were right all along. It does make sense." I forced a smile back at him. Like he had said, we could discuss details later, like how soon these nuptials would be taking place and how faithful he would bother to stay to me afterward. I wasn't lying, though. It did make sense. If I had to marry, it may as well be him. At least we got along.

  "Then I'm delighted. Just think how attractive our children will be," he added, smiling roguishly.

  I nearly choked on my whiskey. It was a joke he'd made many times, but, with the reality looming in front of me, I felt my face begin to blanch. I covered it up with my heiress face and stared out the window before he could notice. The rain streamed in dismal gray lines down the glass, blurring the leaves of the Graham Forest, the lofty name for the small patch of woods that lined this sector.

  We can talk about this later. After the Ever Falls, maybe I’ll be ready. It’s not like I had any plans for my life. I mean… there was the notion I’d remain unshackled to the throne, but sacrifices must be made… and I’m tired of fighting.

  It was settled. Once I committed to something, I always carried through. It was one of my few redeeming qualities, I supposed.

  When the car pulled up to the museum, the prince extended a chivalrous hand to assist me in exiting the automobile, and in we walked, arm in arm. My ridiculously impractical heels clacked against the hardwood floor of the museum. I focused on the sound, counting the number of steps to our seats. Heads turned and tongues wagged, but I held my chin high and ignored them, retreating somewhere inside my head.

  This is my life now.

  The main room was an exercise in opulence. The museum building was the second-oldest structure in Ceithre, next to the castle. There were evenly spaced and elegantly decorated round tables, but for the royal table. That imposing crescent-shaped monstrosity sat directly in front of the speaker's podium and was given double the surrounding space as the other tables. The Emperor and Empress were not in attendance, instead sending the prince to represent the royal family. My father had likewise stayed away. He was rarely social unless forced to be, preferring to spend his time at the office.

  Locke and the other bodyguards were again patrolling the perimeter of the room, occasionally moving around to check things or people they found suspicious.

  We took our seats, and in came the onslaught of probing questions encased in polite greetings. I tuned most of them out, not feeling nearly as prepared as I had thought I would be. The prince deftly maneuvered around the inquisition, managing to be both charming and evasive, while I sat mostly silent by his side.

  An ice water appeared in front of me, and I gulped the cold liquid down gratefully. Unbidden, my hands went to fiddle with my necklace, and I forced them back to their neutral position in my lap. There were too many prying eyes here, waiting to pounce on any perceived weakness.

  I answered only questions that were directly asked and returned only polite salutations, all the while maintaining my stony face. I found it helpful in deterring the overtly curious members of society. My father taught me that much.

  I pictured the rest of my life yawning before me in this very manner. The expansive walls moved in toward me, and it felt as if all of the other guests were getting closer. My breath came in short puffs; my eyesight blurred. A nasally voice invaded my thoughts.

  "We apologize for the inconvenience, but Professor Trauman is behind schedule. Please enjoy refreshments until he is able to make the final speech and formally open the exhibit."

  I never thought I'd be sad to see an evening of tedious, self-congratulatory speeches postponed, but I began to think I might actually die if I had to sit here any longer. I shot up from my seat a little too quickly. Perry glanced at me askance. I tried for a smile, but I was sure it came out a grimace.

  "Ladies’ room," was all I got out before I hurried away. This was the second time in a week I had used that excuse to escape a social setting. This time tomorrow, the entire inner circle would be discussing the soon-to-be princess' irritable bowels, but I honestly didn't care. Much. I was in a back hallway when, distracted in my haste, I plowed directly into a familiar form. I looked up in shock.

  "Nell? What are you doing here? And how did you even get in?" I wished I could take back the blunt question as soon as it left my mouth. I thought Nell had a right to be anywhere she pleased, but it wasn't a secret she was largely ostracized from polite society due to her status as a scholarship student. She didn't look offended, though. In fact
, her imperious features were pinched with something like worry or panic.

  I took in the rest of her. She was wearing an elegant green gown, fitted to the waist, then falling in soft waves to the floor. Her eyes looked almost catlike, with the dress accentuating the depth of their color.

  "I could ask you the same. You hate things like this," she responded.

  I looked away guiltily. I should tell her the truth. She would find out soon anyway, but I just couldn't bear her reaction right now, so I hedged.

  "I had to come." That was technically true.

  Nell didn't push me on it like she normally would have. She was looking around us like she wasn't quite paying attention to me. Then her eyes landed back on me and sparked with something I couldn't recognize.

  "This whole event is ghastly. No wonder you avoid them. I have an idea." She grabbed my arm and yanked me toward a back hallway. I teetered in my heels and struggled to avoid toppling gracelessly to the floor. Nell's strong grip was the only thing that kept me upright. She tugged me through a curtain that lined the hallway.

  "What in the world, Nell?" I shook off her arm and regained my balance.

  "We needed to hurry to not be seen. Don't tell me you weren't dying to get out of there."

  That was true enough. Somewhat placated, I examined our new surroundings. We were in a sweeping, artwork-lined hallway that dead-ended at a set of large, wooden, and very official-looking double doors. There was a small stand with a sign that read:

  This room is off-limits until the ceremony has concluded. Please return to the main ballroom.

  Of course, Nell brushed right by the sign to try the doors. I couldn't decide if I was grateful or disappointed when they were locked. Either way, I took it as a sign to turn around.

  "Wait here," Nell said, then disappeared before I could argue.

  Not particularly wanting to return to the ballroom anyway, I passed the time gazing at the art that covered every surface, from the fantastical paintings on the ceiling to the more sensible scenes on the lower walls. There was one portrait of a small brunette girl, her arms outspread as she stood on a balcony that overlooked the mountains. It reminded me of my life on Alpina Island, the time I would always think of as Before. Before the move. Before I lost half of my family. Before I lost myself. I shivered and hugged myself, feeling the ability to hide my emotions behind my heiress face slipping from me.

  The low groan of an enormous wooden door opening pulled me from my reverie. Nell stood triumphant in the opening, silently beckoning me to join her. I couldn't leave that picture fast enough. I didn't even bother to ask how Nell got in.

  The sounds from the main room abruptly silenced with the closing of the heavy door. The forbidden room was a grand exhibit hall, filled with artifacts ranging from statues to pottery to jewelry. There were ancient tools and things I couldn't begin to identify. My eyes struggled to take it all in.

  It’s all so beautiful…

  Every single piece on display drew my interest. This was worth getting through the earlier part of the evening, and I had to admit being there alone with Nell added to the majesty.

  Why aren’t there any guards? The event is exclusive, but still…

  A small bronze table stood at the center of the room, and two statues guarded each side of it. They were made in the likeness of palace guards, at least twice as high as Nell and with hostile expressions on their stony faces. The tableau was isolated by a blue velvet rope. Nell made a beeline for the table, gasping as she got close enough to see its contents. I was on her heels but Nell's towering frame blocked whatever was on the table. I nearly tripped over the low-hanging rope Nell had deftly hopped as I tried to get a closer look. Glancing around for live guards, I hoisted my short legs and voluminous skirts over just in time to see Nell lifting a heavily-adorned necklace off a stone sculpture of a woman’s head and neck.

  Now that I was closer, I could see the pedestal and necklace both had unfamiliar symbols outlined by a diamond shape etched into them. They almost looked like buttons. The necklace was made of solid gold rectangles that gradually widened as they reached the swirling blue stone cradled in the center. I had never seen anything like it. Nell pulled the ends of the unclasped necklace toward herself.

  "What are you doing?" I hissed. This was extreme, even for Nell. "Put it back. The ceremony could end any second!"

  "Relax. It hasn't even started yet. You know that old professor will drone on."

  That was probably true. I calmed down somewhat, reading the information placard.

  The Tear of Hila. Originally thought to be only a myth, the Tear is mentioned in texts dating back to the first known century. It is said that it was created from the tear of the Warrior Empress Hila of Levelia.

  I snorted. The legend of Levelia was a wonderfully exciting fairy tale, but surely that had no place in a historical museum. Reading over my shoulder, Nell snorted, too. I went back to reading.

  The Empress looked at the world and saw nothing but violence and war. She worked tirelessly to protect her people, using the might of the ancient knowledge at her disposal to create a weapon to end all violence, but nothing succeeded. One day, she was so saddened by what she saw that she cried a single tear into her half-built creation.

  From that tear, the amulet was born.

  Empress Hila warned that the Tear could be used to destroy the world as surely as it could save it, but one man didn't listen. He wanted the power of the Tear for himself. The man tricked the empress into revealing its location and fled into the night.

  Legend holds that his attempt to wield the power of the amulet for evil is what split the world in two. The Tear became legend, but rumors of its use appear in history books throughout the centuries. The illustrations in those books match the necklace found by Professor Henry Trauman on his famed Royal Expedition.

  "What do you think? Not really my style, is it?" Nell held the necklace up to her elegant neck.

  Since I was fairly certain even Nell wouldn't actually steal a priceless museum exhibit, I played along.

  "I don't know. Incredibly dramatic and larger than life. Sounds about right."

  "Ha, ha. Just for that…" And with an insanely fast movement of her nimble fingers, Nell fastened the weighty piece of jewelry around my neck. It was so expansive, it covered up my clockwork heart locket entirely.

  A horrified gasp escaped my lips.

  "Who's dramatic now?" She laughed.

  "Oh, very nice. Get me arrested. How did you even get it on that quick? Never mind. Hurry up and take it off!"

  "Just give me a moment to savor it." Nell giggled, oblivious or unconcerned to my actual growing panic.

  I didn't want to risk damaging it by tugging on it, but it was uncomfortable. Not to mention the growing fear we would be discovered. I might get lucky, but it would be more likely that whoever found us would want to show the world The Director’s daughter was a troublemaker.

  "Okay, okay. Don't have a fit. Come here, and I'll take it off."

  Just then, the room went dark. A terrified moment passed before the dim emergency lights came on. The space where Nell had stood only seconds ago was empty. I looked around frantically, squinting in the dim light. Locke's random emergency drills and pop quizzes had taught me better than to make noise until I was sure what the nature of the emergency was, but I couldn't stifle a small sigh of relief when I spotted a tall shape moving in my direction.

  "Ne—" I started to whisper, but as the shape came close, I saw it was not my friend at all. The masculine form was wearing a solid black mask with two vertical white slits for eyes.

  And he was headed straight for me.

  The Renegade

  I reached for the dagger I had been sent to steal. It was nothing special, just a typical well-balanced knife with a plain, practical hilt. It was the objective, though. I felt a surge of triumph. I had been given a time frame of ten minutes, but I was about to complete this in five. I imagined the looks on my brothers’ faces when
I emerged in half the time.

  I closed my hand around the hilt when a voice sounded behind me.

  "And now you're dead." It was my father.

  I looked around in confusion. I had checked this room thoroughly, but now he was standing right behind me.

  "How?" I asked. He couldn't have snuck up on me. The door was locked, and I had closed the window behind me.

  "Who would like to tell Clark what he did wrong?"

  Who was he talking to?

  "He got cocky," Xavier's voice rang out, smugness in every syllable. I followed the sound up to where he and Gunther were perched in the ceiling rafters. There was a space between them where I could assume father had been waiting.

  "He didn't check his perimeter sufficiently," Gunther said, apology in his voice. It wasn't necessary. I had screwed up.

  "I have trained you to be the best. If I give you ten minutes to do something and you're out in five, assume you've missed something. You can spend the rest of the night acquainting yourself with the beams on the ceiling while your brothers and I go eat dinner. I expect you will never forget about the rafters again."

  Chapter Eight

  Clark

  The waitstaff uniform was stiff and didn't allow for a sword, but if I did my job right, I wouldn't need one. Besides, I had a few gadgets up my sleeves, courtesy of Gunther. Stealth was the name of the game for this mission. I had no comms, but Gunther was waiting nearby, ready for my signal in case I needed assistance or a diversion. As much as I loved a good fight, I liked playing the spy even more.

  In the stories, spies were always dressed up as high fliers and big shots. In reality, those nobody ever noticed were the homeless or the help, so spying turned out to be less glamorous than most people would think. On some missions, spying was downright boring, but a simple in and out like this was nothing but cake. Besides, I loved fooling the snobs, the elite of society who considered themselves so much better than the less fortunate.

 

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