Punished by the Prince

by Penelope Bloom

  “I realize this must all be very much for you to take in at once. Perhaps it would be simplest if I just let you see for yourself when we arrive.”

  I watch the man and his strange clothes closely while I try to swallow down the guilt I feel rising up. Why should I feel guilty for how I’m treating this man? He’s obviously trying to make an idiot out of me. But I can’t reason away the feeling in my chest, so I let out a long breath and lean forward in my seat a little. “I’m sorry. Someone probably put you up to this, and they are the ones I should be giving attitude to. Don’t get me wrong, this is completely messed up and not a funny prank at all, but why don’t we just agree to keep quiet until I have a chance to talk to whoever is really behind this,” I say.

  Calian’s well-maintained eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “If I may… I don’t find your behavior distressing in the least. In fact, I hope you’ll pardon my boldness in saying I find it quite refreshing.”

  “If I may,” I say with a slight smirk, “I think I’m beginning to like you, Calian.”

  He flashes a set of neatly arranged, white teeth. “You may want to watch out the window. I find this part of the drive is often enjoyable for first time visitors to the Shrouded Kingdom.”

  “I’ve been here before,” I say. “But the tunnel is really cool,” I say, hoping to smooth over the growing impression he probably has that I’m a bitch. If I don’t have a choice in this whole prank thing, I might as well try to enjoy the limo ride and the company, I guess. I’ve gotten pretty good at making the best of crappy situations, and this one isn’t even much of a challenge now that I’m relaxing a little.

  Calian gets a funny little smirk on his face, but he says nothing.

  I narrow my eyes at him, and then find myself watching out the windows of the limo with growing curiosity. Even though every logical bone in my body is screaming for me to dismiss all of this like the nonsense it is, some deeper, childish part of me wants to believe it. That part wants to believe it--even just a little--so bad that it hurts and aches like a physical pain. Even just to imagine actually being a princess is like taking a wonderfully free step away from the reality I wake up to every day. Parents who are indifferent to the point of cruelty. Two little sisters who make a mission of making me miserable. Year after year of school where my classmates constantly found new reasons to not like me.

  A new place and new people, even if they weren’t really princes and princesses in some “Shrouded Kingdom” would already be appealing enough. I know it’s dangerous to latch onto something like this. Just when I’ve started accepting my lot in life, this man has to come along and dangle the perfect fantasy in front of my nose. The more I think about it, the more fun it is to play it out in my mind, like the daydreams I used to have when I was a kid where everything was fairytale perfect and the knight in shining armor came to rescue me. Even if this is all some cruel prank, there’s a tingling curiosity and hope that is slowly making its way through me. I haven’t felt anything like it for as long as I can remember and the feeling is addictive.

  We reach the tunnel, which runs under a huge, grass covered hill. I have always enjoyed driving through it, probably just because my family never really has a reason to go east out of the city, as there’s nothing much that way besides miles and miles of hills, valleys, and farmland.

  The driver, whose head I can only see the dim outline of through the tinted divider near the front, takes us through the first half of the tunnel like usual.

  I’m embarrassed to find my hands are clenched on my knees too tightly, as if I’m expecting something extraordinary to happen, like a beam of light is going to suck us out of here and whisk me away to a fantastic place where none of my problems are real. I’m just beginning to relax and chide myself for being a gullible, silly little girl, when I notice Calian grip the seat tightly, as if bracing himself.

  “What are--” I start, but I’m cut off as the car swerves to the right and the person behind us lays on their horn.

  I scream like a stuck pig, squeezing my eyes shut and throwing my arms in the air to protect myself from the inevitable impact, but instead, I just feel the car lurch slightly and start going downhill.

  I tentatively open my eyes to find Calian grinning.

  I clear my throat. “Don’t look so smug. Screaming when your car swerves toward a brick wall is perfectly reasonable.”

  “I would scream just like you if I was in your position. I’m not judging you a bit, Princess. I was just grinning because you have quite a set of lungs, I think my ears will still be ringing tomorrow morning.”

  “Where are we, anyway?” I ask, scooting closer to the window and hoping he can’t see my flushing cheeks. I see now we’re driving through a tunnel still, but there doesn’t seem to be any other cars at the moment, and the tunnel looks more narrow than I remember.

  “We’re passing through one of the many hidden entrances to the Shrouded Kingdom, Princess.”

  “I told you not to call me that,” I say distractedly, watching as an insanely expensive car tears past us in the other direction. After only a few minutes, I’ve seen at least ten cars pass by that must cost millions of dollars. Something is definitely going on here, and that silly hope in my stomach is starting to feel a little less silly by the minute.

  “It would be wise to get accustomed to it. You’ll be hearing ‘Princess’ a lot once we arrive.”

  My heartbeat quickens. It’s starting to feel real. I know somewhere my parents and sisters are still back there, probably at the restaurant or maybe headed home by now. They’re probably laughing about what a disaster my party was, but there’s the oddest sense of distance from that, like it can’t touch me here. Like it is in the past now. Like they are in the past. I’m not sure I understand it, but I’m starting to think my life is just beginning.

  Outside, the tunnel suddenly gives way to a strip of night sky visible between two huge valleys. We drive down a solitary road surrounded by rolling grassy plains that gently slope upwards until they eventually punch up into the darkness, blotting out the stars. It feels like half an hour or more that we drive. At one point, the driver takes us straight toward a mountain that looks far too steep to climb, but shows no signs of turning around.

  “Calian?” I ask. “Please tell me he knows what he’s doing.”

  “Do not fear, Princess. Like I said, you’re extremely valuable to my people. We wouldn’t let any harm come to you.”

  Sure enough, a huge slab of grass slides up from the mountain to reveal a hidden tunnel speckled with long, bright lights.

  “How many people know about this place?” I ask.

  “It is a tightly kept secret, but more know than you would suspect.”

  We emerge from the tunnel into a starlit valley. In the distance ahead, I see warm yellow lights like pinpricks against the black, reaching out to me from a city that shouldn’t exist--from a place that shouldn’t exist.

  “You can’t be serious…” I say breathlessly.

  “The Shrouded Kingdom,” says Calian. “Welcome home, Princess.”

  2

  Roark

  I wait behind the restaurant with my brother, Titus. We both carry our Blades, but outside the Shrouded Kingdom we’re forced to conceal them. In the Shrouded Kingdom, Blades are both a status symbol and the weapon of choice for the nobility. The obsession my people place on them has always seemed ridiculous to me. At the end of the day, a Blade is just a custom-fitted pistol with a retractable metal knife hidden in the barrel. To outsiders, I imagine seeing a huge pistol at someone’s hip would cause alarm, so we wear them beneath our jackets here.

  “She is something, isn’t she?” asks Titus, who leans against the wall beside me. My younger brother couldn’t be more different from me. We may share some of the same facial features, but my black hair and his blonde are just the start of our differences.

  “She is,” I say, idly running my finger along the smooth, matte black barrel of my Blade, which is holstered just
inside my jacket. I let my finger glide over the release switch, which releases a ten inch blade of razor sharp steel. As always, touching the weapon causes something inside me to stir, something that lies dormant at times for days, sometimes more, but never forever. The feelings of violence that swirl within me and grow until I feel like I can’t control them anymore are in a frenzy tonight. I call it the darkness. My long-time companion, who, at times, threatens to wrestle control from me once and for all.

  “You had better figure out what’s going on with Tyrese,” says Titus. “It would be unseemly for your little brother to tie the knot before you.”

  “My business isn’t your concern. I’ll marry when I marry.”

  “Your business is the kingdom’s concern,” persists Titus. He’s using the voice he always seems to use when he pretends to care about anything but himself--it’s a frail impression of the commanding way our father used to speak. “Father is gone. The kingdom will only abide being ruled by a widowed queen for so long.”

  I ignore him. Titus has painted a target on my back since father died, and the moment he thinks I’m weak enough to strike, I know he will. He’s masking a taunt with concern, and it’s about as subtle as a brute like my brother can manage.

  “There he is,” I say, nodding toward a man who steps out of the restaurant’s back door. His hands are tucked in his pockets and he wears a simple jacket like one of the outsiders, but I notice his family insignia is stitched into the sleeve. Idiot.

  His eyes widen as he takes in Titus and I. He takes a faltering step backwards, nearly falling on his ass before reaching for the door.

  Titus rushes toward him, pinning the door shut. I grip him by his shirt and lift him so that I can slam him into the wall.

  “You’ve been talking,” I say.

  “Prince Roark? P-prince Titus? They sent you two?”

  “No. We volunteered to educate you,” I say. “How many have you told?”

  “I have no idea wh--”

  Quick as thought, I snap my elbow out and across his face, gripping him again before he even has a chance to slide down the wall. He blinks through the pain, then groans and spits blood. The darkness is flowing through me freely now, lending me strength along with its red intent.

  “Wait. Wait,” he says. “What did you hear?”

  “Don’t try to fucking weasel out of this, Gerald,” says Titus, who still leans casually against the door, respecting my right to the confrontation.

  “I just--I think you’ve been misinformed. I haven’t even--”

  I use my fist this time. The ferocity of the punch ignites something in me, something hot and fiery that feeds the darkness, calming it only slightly. It’s as if I can feel it inching backwards, letting me take full control because I’m giving it what it wants. Just give me a fucking excuse to hurt you more, Gerald.

  The brief satisfaction of violence also brings a familiar sense of corruption, but I ignore it, letting the fire of anger grow and focusing it all on the sniveling traitor in front of me.

  “Enough games,” I snap. “Gerald Walters. You are formally accused of treason against Burkewood Kingdom. Will you face your accusation like a man, or will it be the dungeons?”

  Something unexpected enters his eyes, and I realize he’s going to give me the violence I desire. Anticipation courses through me, so thick and sweet I could choke on it.

  He reaches into his coat and pulls a shiny black pistol free. He locks wide, panicked eyes on me as he starts to slowly move to the side, circling me. “I just wanted out. I have family on the outside. I wanted a new life.”

  “You swore an oath of service,” I say. I grip my Blade, feeling right in a way I only feel with my weapon in hand. I sling it free of the holster, holding it out, thumb ready to release the steel blade tucked into the barrel of the gun.

  “Fuck you and fuck your kingdom,” shouts Gerald. “You’re all corrupt. It’s all shit! All of it!”

  I don’t disagree, but I’m not here to argue politics. I’m not even here to exact justice. I’m just here to feed the darkness in me. “Enough,” I say, releasing the blade with a satisfying click. The weapon twitches in my hand as eight inches of cold steel slip out of the barrel.

  Gerald does the same and makes a wild, predictable lunge toward me. I swipe his blade away with my own and bury the point in his chest. And faster than Gerald’s last heartbeat, it’s over.

  He’s alive long enough to widen his eyes, look down, and then sigh with relief or disappointment--I’ll never know which.

  My blade slides out as he slumps lifelessly to the ground. I feel a pang of remorse for the man, to know he gave his life so that I could temporarily appease the beast within me, but he doesn’t deserve my pity. He crossed the Kingdom when he broke his oath, and he knew justice would find him.

  But justice is supposed to be cold. Indifferent.

  I use his jacket to clean the blood from my weapon and holster it. My heart pounds and my breath comes quickly, not from exertion but from the rush, from the sudden sense of relief and freedom I have when the darkness recoils deeper inside me to wait until it becomes hungry for more.

  Titus pushes off the wall, walking a slow circle around the dead man. He carefully avoids getting any of the growing pool of blood on his handcrafted boots, but his calm face contorts in temporary rage when he kicks Gerald’s motionless body. “Scum,” he barks down at the body. “You disgrace your name.” Titus spits, looking up to meet my eyes. He holds eye contact just long enough to challenge me.

  Just long enough to give me a fucking excuse.

  My arm pistons out and I grip the front of his shirt, dragging him toward me until we’re nose to nose. I’m about to remind him of his place, to tell him brother or not, I’ll put steel in his belly all the same, but instead I shove him back, shaking my head. I don’t know when I became this man--a man who kills out of hunger and a man who spurns his own family. I can feel myself grasping for the light, reaching for all I’m worth and still coming up short.

  Titus straightens his shirt with a single, angry tug. He watches me step back into the restaurant with apparent calm, but I don’t fail to notice the way his hand twitches toward his Blade. Family or not, I know better than to let my guard down around Titus.

  Maybe he’s right about one thing. A woman in my bed might help to fight back the darkness in me. Or maybe she would only awaken it.

  3

  Elizabeth

  When I step out of the limo, I step into a veritable fairytale. We’re parked at the end of a long, beautifully cobbled pathway that paints a straight line through a gorgeous garden. The path ends at a huge, ornamental gate and a wall at least thirty feet high. Even the height of the gate barely conceals a building as wide as a skyscraper is tall that dominates the space in front of me. It’s so tall that it blacks out the stars in a series of vertical peaks and arches. Flickering yellow light winks out at me from more windows than I can count.

  A sweet breeze sweeps around me, carrying the smell of delicious, savory food and oddly enough--the smell of campfires.

  I turn toward Calian, who grins smugly as he leans against the car, watching me take it all in. His thick hair blows around his head in the breeze and I can see the dancing yellow lights reflected back to me in his eyes. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.

  I open my mouth to speak and close it, only able to shake my head, looking from Calian to the city and back again. The strangest feeling of loss rises up in my chest, making tears prick at my eyes. “I never would have survived if I knew a place this amazing was out here. If I knew this was waiting,” I say.

  “But you did,” says Calian. “And now you’re stronger for it. Perhaps strong enough to be a Princess, even.”

  I laugh. Even when I’m looking at the city--the city I know isn’t marked on any maps and a city that looks so out of place in our modern world that there’s only one reasonable conclusion to draw--even then, it doesn’t seem real. “I don’t think anyone has ever sai
d I was strong.”

  “They will,” says Calian. “I can see it in you, Princess. To suffer through so much, you are strong.”

  “How do you know what I’ve been through?” I ask, pushing my hair back when the cool breeze takes it across my eyes, still unable to stop stealing glances of the city that sparkles ahead like something out of a dream.

  “We’ve kept tabs on you. After all, the Prince had the right to pull out of the agreement at any time. He was checking in on his investment.”

  A coldness sweeps through me that has nothing to do with the air. I clutch my arms around my stomach, watching Calian carefully now. “Investment?” I ask.

  Calian stares blankly for a second and then clicks his tongue. “No, no, you misunderstand, Princess. I realize the term must seem cold from your perspective. You are an investment to Prince Titus because the marriage would be deemed illegitimate if he were ever to bed another woman. He has waited for you. Twenty-six years.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I’m supposed to marry a twenty-six-year-old virgin?” I ask.

  “Women would kill for the honor,” says Calian. “But there will be time for more questions later. If we’re to have you presentable by morning, we need to get you inside the city now so the team can begin their work.”

  “The team?” I ask, following him as he takes my arm and leads me down the long path toward the walls.

  “Yes. The Burkewood's have assigned a team of personal servants to you. They will assist with everything from your makeup, selecting your wardrobe, and even cooking your meals. You will want for nothing, Princess.”

  “What if I want a shorter walk?” I ask, grinning. “We parked pretty far from the city, didn’t we?”