by Karen King
“Forever,” I had repeated, my gaze never wavering as it burned into his.
Kaden’s head descended, and in an instant his warm lips swept across mine. My knees had almost buckled, but I managed to keep upright as he pressed his lips against mine.
With a chuckle, he pulled back. “One of these days, Kyle, you’re going to be mine, and if you faint, I’m just going to have to kiss you harder.”
Embarrassed that I had almost passed out during such a mind-altering exchange, I had turned away.
We never spoke of the kiss again. Three days later, he was captured.
“Kyle?” The Emperor’s voice reverberated down the hall, shaking me from my melancholy.
I turned to face the man I had grown to hate, my slippered feet lightly tapping the marble as I approached him.
“Your Highness?” I bowed, crossing my arm over my chest to touch my opposite shoulder.
The man I owed my life to surged through the room. His large belly protruded from his white court dress. Every time I spoke to him, I felt sick to my stomach and prayed I wouldn’t get struck with the whips again. Nobody was allowed to lay a hand on me, but the Emperor had his own idea about the rules given by the Elders.
“Why are you not dressed?”
I looked down, embarrassed that I was still in my silk nightgown, and that he of all people had seen me in such a state of undress. “I was just about to get ready. Did you need something, Highness?”
“Yes.” He whistled, and the servants came running. “Please dress Princess Kyle in her courtwear. She is to meet the Prince of Trilivad today.”
A hushed silence went through the servants. It was the only way they could show displeasure—silence.
“Well?” The Emperor’s eyebrows shot up in impatience.
“Do as he says,” I said in an even voice. They were loyal servants…to me, not the Emperor. “And what is this meeting to be about, Your Highness?”
Challenging him would put me in a dangerous position. One where I could be denied food for days on end, but if I was to be presented to the devil—that of the cruel Eastern Republic—I, at least, wanted to know why.
The Emperor smiled and patted his protruding belly with heavily jeweled fingers. “Oh, my dear, the day is finally here. You are to marry him. This very day, you marry the prince, and thereby set forth into motion the destiny revealed to the Elders. You shall align both Republics of Paleo—the East and the West with your marriage—and finally we will have peace.”
With a gleeful laugh, the Emperor made his hasty exit, only pausing once as he smiled at his own reflection in the mirror. His heavy footsteps pounded the floor. Once the heavy pounding faded, I knew I was safe.
I exhaled a sigh of resignation and glared at the door. Forced into marriage? That was why he saved me at the age of thirteen? He saw me as a profitable trade? I clenched my fists at my sides. The man was impossible!
He didn’t believe himself to be a cruel man. But fear caused people to act rashly, and the Emperor lived in a constant state of fear. It was easy for everyone to see. He was constantly replacing the royal guard, so convinced was he that there were betrayers within his inner circle. He never ate food that hadn’t first been tested by a servant, and at night he made the guards stay awake outside his bedroom, lest someone try to murder him in his sleep. Truly his mind was not his own, and for that, at times I pitied him.
“Kyle?” Madge put a comforting arm around me. “He lives and breathes to be noticed, to be a god among men. I fear one day he may turn on even you, my child. We do not know the ways of the Elders, but perhaps it would be good for you to get away from The West.”
“The East is no better,” I said, my voice emotionless.
I had heard tales of the East. Unending deserts and a hot sun that never relented. The men of the East were rumored to be cruel to their women and uncaring in their marriages. It seemed that no matter where I lived, it would not get better.
If I stayed in the West, I stayed in prison. If I married this prince, I would surely be beaten, for the custom in the East was to beat women into submission, but at least I would leave the memories of Kaden behind. It was torture living with the same people that killed him. I saw the Enforcer that stole his life on a daily basis and hated myself for eating the same food, in the same banquet hall. Perhaps his memory would stay in the West. That I could deal with—the nightmares about him were growing worse, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that I had survived, while Kaden had died.
After all, I had done nothing but shame him with the life I continued to live. I was under the protection of the very people who stole his last breath. And because of that, I wanted to die every day I had a heartbeat when he did not.
I was disappointed and utterly repulsed by the idea that I would be marrying the arrogant prince, also known as the Monster of the East. No doubt he would beat me beyond recognition or have his way with me and make me wish for death every time he came to my bed. I closed my eyes and allowed myself one selfish tear.
But only one.
Kaden always told me that two tears were the sign of weakness, but one tear…one was allowed. I often cried one tear and tried desperately to hide the rest.
“My lady.” Madge curtsied and began the tedious task of dressing me in the elaborate courtwear of The West. We were forced to wear tightly fitted dresses that flowed out at the waist. A cape was attached around our shoulders, with the symbol of the West etched in the fur on the back.
Each of the two remaining countries of the Republic was given court colors. Ours was white. Sadly, all it did was remind me of a wedding dress. One I wouldn’t be wearing with Kaden by my side, but a complete monster.
With a sigh, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Bright blue eyes stared back. Ebony hair trailed down to my waist. Eyelashes “longer than sin,” according to Madge, fanned against my high cheekbones. My frame had always been small. I was often made fun of as a child for being so little, but as I grew, my body filled out.
I often noticed Enforcers staring at me, but never feared for my life or my virtue. To touch me was certain death, and every man within the country knew it.
I was a princess after all. Even though I was only a captured civilian, to them I was the princess and would always be so. The Emperor had decreed me his adopted daughter. The thought of being anything to him, even his servant, made me shudder.
“My lady, if I may say so, the white is very becoming.” Madge pulled at the tightly strung corset. Crystals were sewn into the fabric, making the white look as if it were shining. My dark hair hung in waves around my shoulders. I closed my eyes for the worst part.
The shots always hurt. It was like being stung repeatedly all over my body, but it was the only way to keep the glow.
It had always seemed silly, this glowing business. But every royal had to. We had to literally shine; we needed to look like gods next to the slaves. It made sense, for we never saw the sun. Only the clouds and the rain. It was the only way to tell a royal from a slave, the radiance of one’s skin.
So they injected a glowing serum into our bloodstream. It changed the skin pigment, making us glimmer. My light, as I liked to call it, was a golden hue to match my dark eyes and hair.
I hated it.
Almost as much as I hated being a prisoner.
But if this was the life I had to live so my family could be safe, so one day I could possibly free them all, I would do it.
I closed my eyes as the sting of the shots hit full force. Within seconds it was over with, but the swelling was still felt around my neck.
I stretched and nodded for my cape.
A blue velvet cape was attached to my gown in the back, the blue of the West. It was our symbol, the royal sign that I was of the royal family.
The East wore black and red, always black and red. We said it was because they were of the devil—that Satan himself lived in the East—but I knew better. It wasn’t the devil that lived in the East. No, he lived right here in the
castle with me, and his title was Emperor.
In my mind, nothing could be worse than the whippings I received from him. I only hoped the prince would be less inclined to hit me when I accidently spoke out of turn.
“I’m ready,” I said to the servants. Their eyes beheld horror, and I pitied them, for their fear for me was greater than my fear for myself.
When you’ve lost everything dear to you, you no longer fear death. No, you fear life.
Astraea Press
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