Burning Bridges

by Nadege Richards

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get it. Shadow’s had years of practice, remember? She wasn’t always great, nor was anybody.” Ezily draped an arm around my shoulder and smiled.

  I stared at her. “It’s not that. I just expected more out of myself. Maybe I need to give it another shot?”

  Shadow came around from behind us and shook her head at me. “Don’t stress yourself out, Echo. We can try it again tomorrow.” When I sighed, she continued. “You were doing it all wrong, you know? I saw the look in your eyes.”

  “What look?” I moved away from the two of them to sheath the sword. I handed it back to Ezily with a frown.

  “One of vengeance and anger,” Shadow answered. “You thought it could fuel you, but you were wrong.”

  “No, I—”

  “You can’t go on adrenaline alone,” Ezily cut in. “It will only carry you so far. When the rush is over, and you can’t face the reality of war singlehandedly, you’ve succumbed to the worst defeat. Yourself.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t get it.”

  Sighing, Shadow unsheathed her sword and began twirling it around in the air, talking to me but not at me. “Greatness lies somewhere between defeat and victory—only there, in fact—as a mind cannot work without a body. Anger blinds you and keeps you focused on one thing: killing the person who hurt you. But keep in mind that the other has the same goal, and when two similar fronts collide, there’s hell to pay.”

  Where had I heard that before?

  She stopped, pointing the gold-hilted sword at me. “You have to be smarter, wiser, and focused. There is no defeat in war, there is only victory.”

  “But—”

  “The only war worth fighting for is the war against yourself. Just so happens that in every war there are reasons why you are fighting so hard, the main one being your own salvation. Remember that.” Ezily patted my back and then went to Shadow, playfully punching her in the arm as she walked back towards the tree.

  The sun had already begun to set high above the clouds and the market shops were closing up. On a Saturday evening, I knew people were preparing for Mass the next day.

  The way back to the palace was quiet and solemn. Shadow noticed my odd silence and said, “What’s this all about?”

  I shrugged. “How do you mean?”

  “You’re angry, but I don’t know what about.”

  I shook my head and pretended not to care. Of course I was angry. I wanted to learn how to fight now. And if I could prove to Father that I could be a Tigress too, maybe he’d cancel the wedding.

  I stopped.

  The thought didn’t make any sense at first, but the more I thought about it, the more the truth became clear. My eagerness to learn came from my unwillingness to be married off to some jerk. Would Father even care? Or would he be angry? I bristled at the fact that my Father’s opinion in this actually mattered. Finding common ground with him was possible, and as much as I had always thought highly of him, I was sick of being his sweet, little princess who did everything right. I was sick to my stomach and I’d had enough.

  “If you’re really so worried about the family, maybe you should talk to Mother.” Before she could make any sense of what I said, I lunged for the palace doors, pushed passed the guards, and made my way to the back of the palace. I had no intentions of locking myself in my room like I did the night before, and Issy was out of town for a while—the nomad that she was.

  Eventually, I found myself wandering out to the garden at the rear of the palace, not looking for anything in particular except silence. I followed the stoned path to the garden and held my dress up from the hem. Just above me I could hear the sounds of the morning Nightingales, New Haven’s one and only, and they sung of happiness and joy. I hummed along as I found the bench seat near the bleeding heart garden.

  I hadn’t come out here much since Shadow left for war, I realized, but it was a peaceful place, nonetheless. The day I stormed out of the house I hadn’t been thinking, I just needed to get away. It was only instinct that I came here. This was my escape when reality got too cold, when the truth became too much. I had never enjoyed the idea of being a princess. I would watch the other little boys and girls playing from my window and long to be one of them. I wasn’t allowed to leave the palace without a guard, and even now I wasn’t supposed to leave without someone with me. It bothered me that Mother protected me so much, even at the age of seventeen. Would it always be like this? Surrounded by a world I didn’t understand but forbidden to explore it?

  If it was, I didn’t know how much more I could take of it.

  Heavy footsteps sounded behind me and I resisted the urge to turn around. I became oddly aware that I didn’t even care who it was, I just hoped they wouldn’t notice me. Not that I could disappear or anything, but a girl could dream.

  “Echo,” my father said.

  I stared blankly ahead, ignoring the way his voice sent chills down my spine. I wanted to talk to him, but I had nothing to say.

  “I understand your anger but do not forget who you are dealing with. Know your place.”

  I cringed, my hands curling into tight fists, and said, “I’m sorry. I’d think this would be expected since you are throwing me off to get married to some fool! Do you not care about my feelings, Father? I want—” I stopped. When I turned and met his eyes, the stormy irises spoke legions. Suddenly the words wouldn’t come to me, or I was terrified of the damage they would do.

  My father was tall—wise, I guess you could say—and fierce. But where he was sensible, I was foolish. He was a realist, and I was a dreamer. If I thought really hard about it, my father and I had nothing in common besides our will and determination. Though, I always took that for a coincidence.

  He stood with his back against the green house, his legs crossed at the ankle. He was old physically, but his mind was always developing some new crazy scheme. “What right do you have to question me?” he asked rhetorically, and I could hear the tinge of anger in his tone.

  “Apologies, Father. I just don’t know what I can do to make you understand. I wish you would. Mother won’t listen to me and I just...feel so alone.” Tears came to my eyes at the truth. Yes, that’s what I was—very much alone. “I want to be a Tigress like Shadow and Ezily. I want to be free...and—”

  “That is not your place and I have told you that many times.” He pushed off of the wall and came to sit alongside me on the bench. He stretched out his long legs and his hands in his lap burned with age. “Our reign must continue, Echo. I have worked too hard to allow another to step in and ruin the nation I’ve taken years to revive.” He shook his head. “I chose you because I know you can do it, you can lead us.”

  “Father, but—”

  “Do not interrupt me.” His face had turned stone hard. “I am sorry that you are unhappy, but sacrifices must be made for the family. I’ve made them, your sisters have, and the gods know your Mother is doing all she can.”

  The clip of his tone made me pause. He was obviously laying the guilt trip on thick, but bringing Mother into his momentary cold-heartedness was unreasonable. I’d always gotten along with my Father, so for him to completely shut me out was foreign.

  “I know she has, Father, but you said we’d wait until I was nineteen, you said you would give me time to think about it.”

  Father shook his head violently and waved me off. “No, you were wrong. Life puts you in difficult positions, Echo, but you have to be bold and live through them. After all, that is only the basis of living.”

  “I—”

  “Enough, Echo!” He wasn’t yelling, nor was he whispering. “You know better than to argue. Were you not my child you would have been sent away already. I’m not tolerating this attitude. What’s gotten into you?”

  I sighed inwardly and peered down at the bleeding hearts—delicate and beautiful, yet fated to a horrible title.

  Like myself, I thought.

  “Nothing. Perhaps I am just tired.” That seemed to be my excuse fo
r everything.

  My father stood and reached into his overcoat pocket. His long grey tresses fell into his eyes, and I noticed then how much my Father and I looked nothing alike. Both my parents were born with rich, golden hair that many envied and Everlae, Caesar, and Shadow’s were much of the same. Distantly, I wondered why I was so different.

  Fear and doubt crowded into my mind, but there wasn’t space for both. If I pondered the thought further, I’d be facing things I wasn’t ready for. I was sure of it.

  “Here,” Father said. He handed me an embellished pamphlet, white and decadent in every way. My hands shook as I took it in fear of what it was—what it meant. Without looking at the lettering, I turned it upside down on my lap. “Your mother wanted your approval first.” He stood for a moment longer than moved to kiss my nose, a gesture that felt colder than his lips on my skin. Suddenly, my father and I had never felt so distant. Suddenly...New Haven didn’t feel much like a haven anymore. “You will be Queen.”

  And then he was gone.

  I sat staring blankly ahead for what could have been hours, lost in a white sea of emptiness. For a while, the tears wouldn’t come—no matter how much I tried, my feet wouldn’t move. Would showing Father that I could fight work now? Did it even matter anymore? This feeling of being outspoken choked me up. It made me uncomfortable and agitated. My palms itched as my nails dug into them, reaching for a release I couldn’t find.

  Without a second thought, I turned over the card and gawked at the gold lettering: the wedding invitation.

  YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE JOINING OF PRINCE NOAH OF DELENTIA AND PRINCESS ECHO OF THEDIBY IN HOLY MATRIMONY, AND THEIR CROWNING TITLES OF KING AND QUEEN OF NEW HAVEN.

  AUGUST 29TH

  SIPHON’S CITY, NEW HAVEN

  AT THE KING’S ROYAL TOWER

  ONE WORLD! ONE HAVEN!

  In a fortnight. My heart had taken on another rhythm then. Every skipped beat was followed by a weakened one. The staccato drum waned in my chest and all the blood rushed to my head. I’d never tasted the kind of anger that burned me inside out then—it was strong and controlling. It blinded me and the heat of the moment was what I went on.

  I found myself racing across the yard, through the palace, and out the front doors while avoiding a glance at anyone. Some called my name, but they were a window of the past. As I stormed out the front door, a guard took me by the hand. “Princess, where are you going?” he said. Without as much as turning around, I swung at him and knocked him to the ground. He stared up at me with wide eyes. A Royal—more less, his Princess—would never physically hurt anyone.

  As I stared down at the young boy, I realized tears stung my cheeks. I wasn’t crying because of the letter or because I was sad, but for myself and because I was burdened with an insatiable anger I didn’t know how to let go.

  “I’m not your stupid Princess!” I snapped. The boy hadn’t a clue what I was talking about. I swallowed. “I don’t want this anymore. I can’t do it. I’m sorry...” I turned and ran in the direction of the forest, away from the streets and markets—anything that was New Haven.

  “Princess, wait! You can’t leave at this ungodly hour!” the boy yelled.

  His voice was another piece of the past as I ran. I ran until my feet couldn’t carry me anymore, until my lungs refused to let me breathe, until there was no where left to go. And the whole time, I wept.

  Finally, I stopped running. Tears still stung my eyes, but after all that, there weren’t many tears left to cry. I’ve never been here before, I thought to myself as I took in the wide river, the sand, and chirping Nightingales alighted on the branches of the trees.

  I clenched the pamphlet between my fingers, quickly remembering I had it still. It felt hot in my hands as if it was the source of everything—why I was so miserable, why the world was so broken...Why I felt so alone and no one cared about what I thought. Even thinking of its existence angered me.

  I tore it up into pieces, relishing in the way it became nothing but broken pieces of a puzzle. “I hate this!” I yelled. Still running on anger, I threw it into the river. Watching it float away wasn’t enough, so I hastily tore off my gown and the thread struggled to hold together under my onslaught. I threw it into the dark waters, and as I watched it float away, I prided myself. I sank to the sandy floor in nothing but my bodice and underskirt. I swore that if anyone found me I’d strangle them.

  I hurt too much...

  Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I should’ve gotten up and gone back to the palace. I should’ve apologized to Father and gotten married to Noah despite how I felt. But that part was minuscule compared to my anger, it didn’t stand a chance. If I could help it, I never wanted to return.

  Something ruffled the trees behind me and I stopped sobbing to listen. They were footsteps, slow but heavy and distinctive. “I’m not going back. I refuse,” I yelled out, assuming it to be one of my father’s guards he’d sent for me. If it was the same boy, he’d be wise not to touch me again.

  The footsteps still approached. Did he not hear me, or did he not speak English? “I said I do not wish to be disturbed! What part of—”

  “You sure have a big voice for a damsel in distress,” a male voice echoed.

  I caught his shadow first, and as his face drifted into view and his voice rung clear in my ears, I had a sudden awareness of who he was.

  The boy with the violet eyes. The Hunter.

  Ayden.

  “You followed me,” I whispered. I turned away from him and stared out at the moonlit river.

  “No.” His voice sounded closer. “I heard you. It’s kind of hard to miss a screaming girl tearing at her clothes at this time of night. That’s not something you can exactly walk away from.” I could sense him smiling at his own humor.

  “I didn’t mean… I just wanted—” I froze. “I don’t know what I want.”

  Ayden’s footsteps stopped beside me, and when I looked up, he was busy staring out at the moon. It was weird, how comfortable a moment with him truly was. I knew he was no different from me despite the posters and the chants, but he was different. In some unspoken way we understood each other; running into one another was inevitable. He didn’t ask me why I was here like I didn’t ask him why he stole from my mother. I think whether we both chose to acknowledge it or not, on some level we connected.

  That thought should have scared me, but I waited eagerly for the day this boy wouldn’t intrigue me.

  “Here,” he said. He held something out for me, and in the night it was hard to see what it was. As soon as I took it, though, I knew.

  “The invitation. You read it.”

  “So quick to assume, Princess. Is that a Royal thing?” He snickered. “I didn’t read it. I can’t.”

  I threw the wedding invite back into the waters and prayed it’d float as far away from me as possible. There wasn’t going to be a wedding.

  Breaking free from my musings, I realized what Ayden had said. “Can’t? You mean you cannot read?” My voice cracked to my dismay. How could anyone live without knowing how to read?

  Ayden said nothing.

  Turning away, I whispered, “I could teach you. It isn’t too hard and I’ve always been good at it, I guess.”

  That made him smile. “It’s okay. I’ll get along fine, thank you.” He looked down at me with those eyes that shone brighter than a million suns. I wondered if mine shone the same.

  “Do they have schools where you come from?” As soon as the words fell from my lips, I regretted them. What a stupid question.

  But Ayden only laughed at me. “Yes, we do. We have those things.” He kicked at the sand below his feet, the laughter draining from his eyes. “But it’s not like schools here. We can only learn so much from the people who learned nothing. Everything we know is instinctual. I guess that’s why they call us Hunters, eh?” He smiled, but it was very cold.

  “I don’t know why your people are called Hunters, but everyone should know how to read.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as a slight wind began to pick up. “Are you going back?”

  We looked at each other. “To Old Haven? Yes, I must. I was just finishing up some things for the Queen in preparation of the wedding.”

  “There is no wedding,” I ground out. “Prince Noah is unlawful. I refuse to marry someone who I do not love. Isn’t that the point, to marry for love?” I stared up at him expectantly, but he only shrugged.

  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about love, Princess. I can say I’ve seen it, but I do not know it. Marrying for love is beyond me.”

  My eyes shifted to the river again, regretting ever bringing up such a personal matter. I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep for millennia, but the gods wouldn’t have it. Did they even care? The thought was foolish, I knew, but at the moment, when life seemed to be giving me the thumbs down, it was safe to doubt. It was solace.

  Voices came from behind us, followed by running footsteps. Both of our hearts seemed to stop in our chests as if we were being caught in a scandalous tryst. “I must go,” Ayden said.

  I immediately jumped to my feet. “Wait! You can’t leave me.” He stopped walking and turned to face me, confused from crown to sole. I murmured, “Take me with. To Old Haven, I mean.” When he began to shake his head, I added, “I beg of you, please.” I knew crossing the border terrified and excited me in the worst ways, but anything was better than going back to the imprisonment that was that palace. Anything.

  “You can’t be serious?” he whispered, approaching me. His head darted between me and the voices in the dark.

  “But I am. I need to be as far away from here, I need to get away.” Tears sprung in my eyes and blurred my vision. I was desperate.

  “I can’t, I’m sorry.” He turned away from me, but I didn’t let him get far.

  “Please! I’ll do anything.”

  As the voices inched closer, Ayden seemed to weigh his options. And he didn’t take long. He pulled off his overcoat and handed it to me. “Wear this. The guards will notice you at first sight.”