Rogue Royalty

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Rogue Royalty Page 12

by Rebecca Ethington


  "I'm so sorry." It was so hard to keep my face straight, not laugh and enrage the squealing Sia more, but I managed it. I was trying to grab at the bits of food now, but with how she was prancing around I was having a hard time even getting close to her.

  "Sorry? You’re sorry? Look what you did to my dress!" Her shrieking had turned to a deep boom of rage, her magic shaking out of control as the massive chandelier shook. "We were supposed to get our engagement pictures in this dress! Now look at it!"

  "Engagement pictures?" Good thing there was no food or drink in my mouth that time because that would have gone all over her too. Instead, I stumbled away, gross napkin in my hand as a maid moved to take my place.

  "Let me do that, Your Majesty," she said, her fingers shaking as she took the napkin from my hand.

  Her fingers were burned and scarred; her arm covered in tattoos. It was clear she had tried to cover the heavy black drawings with makeup, the beige layer was a shade off from her skin tone and not nearly heavy enough to hide the lines. I could easily make out what almost looked to be a bird, flying through a sun. If I hadn't been so used to the faint lines of my aunts' tattoos I may not have seen them at all.

  I grabbed her hand before she could fully move away, leaving Sia to wail behind us.

  "Where did you get these?" I asked, my fingers hovering not over the tattoos, but the painful red marks that twisted over her fingers and wrists. I was sure I had seen marks like these before, on different fingers… I couldn’t place them, I was too horrified by the melted flesh.

  "They are burns," she stumbled over the words, diverting her eyes to Giovanni who had stopped drinking the foul yellow water to stare at us. I think that was the first time he had looked at me all night.

  "From where?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the now smiling Chosen bastard.

  "She works in the kitchen," Giovanni responded, his dead eyes blinking once before he looked away again. "Burns are common in our servants when they first begin their employment. They don't have kitchens in those tunnels after all. We do our best to help heal them, to teach them of our ways. But they are stubborn.”

  “Stubborn?” I asked,

  “Yes, I am sure you know as your family has so foolishly allowed so many to enroll in that once great school.” He wasn’t smiling, everything about him dead, that same hollow feeling filling me as the words echoed in my head. ‘Foolishly’. ‘Once great’.

  I blinked, clenching my teeth, not trusting myself to say anything right then.

  “Now, will you please allow her to clean my daughter's dress, seeing as you have ruined it. And on such a special day too."

  "How unfortunate." Nothing in Samantha Demarco's voice made it sound unfortunate. "The engagement pictures will be ruined."

  'There is no engagement, I snarled the words in my head, jaw still clamped shut as I locked my hatred for this entire situation away as I tried to keep my feet on the floor and not charging toward the other maids, all of which stood with the same poorly covered tattoos, the same burns on their hands. On their arms. On their necks.

  Two maids were now furiously trying to scrub the listy from the white fabric, scrubbing with the already stained napkins as Sia cursed and blamed and threatened.

  “Clean this up now,” she snarled with a low growl that I was sure she hadn’t intended me to hear. “Clean this up or I’ll bring the CCC in here again. You know I can.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but watching how she treated them was revolting. It would take little for me to scrub the thing clean, but I wasn't going to blast any kind of magic into a room that was already filled with the reaching, prodding, powers of not one, but two women.

  Sia was bad enough, but her mother's magic was like a monster tapping against the wall of my shield as it tried to find holes.

  Did they really not realize that I could feel every movement of their magic in the air? Probably not, considering that Sia thought my magic had been 'turned on' or some shit.

  It was making me feel violated. Like hands were rubbing over me, over my chest, my legs, my arms, my… I shivered.

  "I don't understand why you did this," Sia said, turning her vitriol from the maid to me. "You knew this was a special occasion."

  "No, Sia, I didn't," I spat before I could stop myself. The words were shaking with the anger that was now pumping through me, I clenched my fists around my jeans, desperate to keep my hands still and my magic locked away. "You asked me to dinner, and I came to dinner because..." I paused, what I wanted to say clearly not going to work in this situation.

  Because I was forced.

  Because I was trying to stop a war.

  Because it was my royal duty.

  Each reason, each excuse, twisted in my gut, the lies lifting like bile in my throat.

  I didn't want to be there, just as I didn't want to be at school. But seeing those maids, their skin branded, their eyes downcast. It was clear that nothing I could ever do would stop this. No amount of fake kisses and handholding was going to tip the scales toward the unity my parents hoped for.

  They wanted marriage; they weren’t going to get it. I needed to get home, call my father, and end this pathetic game.

  I was done.

  I needed to get through this disaster that I had wandered into, and away from the danger that was buzzing behind each of their eyes. While I was sure I could battle myself out from any disaster, I didn’t need to give them any further access to me. Or any tips as to what was hiding inside of me.

  "I'm here because you asked me." It was the best I could do, smooth things over to get out of this mess. I would figure everything else out later. "You. But this game is not one I am interested in playing. A fight for the crown? A battle for a prince? This is not how magic is meant to find its match,” my voice caught, my magic buzzing, but not for the girl that was staring at me with wide eyes. For the other, whose magic had sparked through me with one touch from her elbow. I swallowed, trying to keep my voice regulated as I continued. “This is not how I wish to find my mate. I’m sorry Sia, I had hoped that this would turn out differently.”

  “Are you… are you breaking up with me?” Her voice caught as she tried to force those tears to the surface again. Although this time they didn’t look like they were going to do the job. Her rage was boiling off of her, even the maids had stopped trying to clean her dress, stepping back in fear.

  She wasn’t the only one that looked ready to commit murder. Giovanni was staring at us in furious hatred, the man going red as a vein in his neck pulsed. Samantha looked like she could care less. She was sitting in her chair, tapping on a phone as her jaw pulsed.

  “You can’t break up with me!” Sia exclaimed, the tears finally breaking through her anger, the false things sliding down her face as she wailed, fists still balled up at her sides.

  I sighed, running my hand through my hair. I wanted to tell her that we were never together, that we were never a couple. But that was a lie, we were. She had thought so, because I had led her on.

  It was my fault. I had let that happen.

  Gemma was right, I was a full douche at this point.

  I should have stood up to my father. This was my problem and I needed to fix it as eloquently as possible. Having never been in a relationship before, or broken one up, I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but I gave it my best shot.

  “I need a break, Sia,” I said meekly, not sure of how else to extinguish that rage that was sucking the oxygen from the room. The level of magic in this massive room was becoming dangerous.

  “I need to think,” I ended lamely, kissing her hand and bowing to her parents before I swept from the room, not giving them a chance to respond. Although I could have sworn I heard Giovanni say “send them all” right before the sound of breaking glass echoed through the halls.

  It was then I started to run, streaming past more maids as I ran through the halls; not through the front door and to the private jet that had flown us there. Instead, I plummeted
out of the first open window I found and into the open air.

  Into the crisp night air that felt more weightless than it ever had before, if only because it knew right where I was going.

  ---

  I grabbed my phone the second the door to my dorm had snapped shut, the full reality of everything slamming against my chest. It had been a long, somewhat chilly, flight back to school, a long time to think. I listened to the phone ring as I kicked off my shoes, the connection clicking alive as I sat on the side of my bed.

  "I’ve ended this charade with the Demarco's. I can't do it anymore. They are wretched people and we never should have agreed to this."

  "Hello to you too, Rowan," Angela said, giggling the second I finished talking.

  "Shit," I swore under my breath, causing Angie to giggle further. "Ang, why do you have moms phone?"

  "I was playing a game." She was still giggling.

  "Ang, go get mom." I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off the swirling ache that was occupying my frontal lobe. Angie laughed, her little voice echoing off the old speaker of my phone before it faded altogether.

  "Hello? Rowan?" This time I actually listened, making sure it was my mom before I launched into my tirade.

  "Mom. I’ve ended this thing with the Demarco's. It's been three months, far too long for this kind of bullshit. I just got back from dinner at their house--"

  "Why were you at their house?" She interrupted her voice harsh.

  "Because dad told me to befriend her and date her or something so that the Chosen don't go all bat shit crazy. So, I went to her house for dinner, which was listy mind you, and vile." I knew one person who shared my dislike for the stuff, although she didn’t even laugh. I was pacing the floor now, bare feet dragging over the soft carpet that was feeling like sandpaper in my agitation. "But I'm here to tell you that is bull. They are already batshit crazy and nothing I can do, or anyone I can date, is going to help with that."

  "What did you see?"

  I froze. No fight. No telling me I was emotional. A stern voice, a question loaded with far too much accusation. Maybe I should ask the same question of her.

  "I didn’t see anything. I was just there. I’m fairly certain they are keeping Undermortals as slaves. Slaves that they are burning and torturing." The word shouldn't even exist in our vocabulary, yet it was burning the air and poking holes in my memory.

  “‘Get your hands off of me, Drain, or I’ll make sure that the next time the CCC liberates a sewer they track you down as a special favor. My mother would see to it. We could use a new toiletry maid’.” I mumbled it to myself, the words the same from that dream before the explosion in The Gauntlet when the Sia who wasn't trying to kiss my butt had stood before Gemma. Before Gemma had brought the roof down on top of her.

  "What did you say, Rowan?" Mom asked, thankfully she hadn't heard that.

  "Mom, do you know what the CCC is?" There was only silence on the other line.

  Silence that dragged on until the sound of my breath was like a cyclone.

  "Rowan," Her voice was soft and I tensed, falling back on my bed. "I need you to tell me what you have seen."

  I lay still, staring at the tiles on the ceiling as the last of the sunlight reflected over them. There was no way I could wiggle my way out of this, I either answered or she would show up at the foot of my bed.

  "I told you, I haven’t seen anything. I’m still blocking them. You know I need to, I will continue to do so." I tried to keep my voice firm, to drive the point home for what was the hundredth time. Hard considering my head was spinning, my vision drifting in an out of focus. I snapped my eyes shut.

  "Rowan--"

  "Aren’t moms supposed to protect you from danger?" I interrupted, rolling over on my bed to scowl at the drawer that concealed that damn mug.

  "This mom has been through enough to know it doesn’t always work that way." I could barely hear her through the static crackle of the phone.

  "It should. Because this power is dangerous."

  "I know what you saw when you drank the water scared you, Rowan, but you can’t spend your life running away from it," she continued, her calm voice cutting through the silence.

  "That's not exactly helpful, Mom."

  "I know, but it’s the truth?" She hesitated the air going dead for a minute as I tried to control my breathing. “What happened at dinner?”

  "Besides the slaves?" I snapped, sitting up again, the motion twisting through my head painfully. "I was forced to eat listy with hateful bastards that you arranged for me to marry."

  "We didn't arrange--" she began, but I was no longer in the mood to have this conversation.

  "Well, they were all ready for engagement photos."

  "They are doing what?" My headache was now wrapped around my head in a spiral that was making it hard to think through. “Well, trust me, we won’t let anything like that happen. You won’t let anything like that happen.” She laughed like it was some kind of great joke. I resisted the urge to throw my phone. “Hold on a little longer, Row--”

  “Hold on?” I had meant to yell, it came out more like a gasp.

  “Yes. I know it sucks but there are things happening that we need to get cleared up first. We are working on it, I promise.”

  "Mom, I already broke up with her. I’m done, I have to be. Whatever you are working on will have to be without me kissing the Demarco’s ass. Fix it okay. I'm done. I need to pee," I tacked on the excuse so she wouldn't stutter her way in uninvited and ended the call, adding an 'I love you' before I did so.

  Then I threw the phone against the wall.

  15

  Gemma

  "Read it to me again," I said from where I lay on my bed, pillows and blankets piled behind me as I popped another grape in my mouth. Eddy gave me a look from where he was sipping coffee, scrawling all over the one white piece of paper that I hadn’t already covered with monsters.

  "'Your most kind and humble highness of the world'," Eddy began, unable to get through the whole sentence without laughing. "Are you really sure you want to start it that way?"

  "Really sure. Stop second guessing me, Ed. She seems like the kind of person who likes people telling her how awesome she is."

  "Either that or you are kissing ass," Eddy said, taking another sip of coffee before scribbling something else on the page.

  "Exactly," I said through a mouth full of grapes. "Continue."

  "'Your most kind and humble highness of the world. I would once again like to thank you for the magnanimous opportunity to attend your wonderful institution. I have been learning so much about magic, power, and the war of good and evil. I was very pleased to find out you were fighting against the trash of evil'. I really don't think we should phrase it that way. How about 'fighting for the side of good.'?" Eddy asked, gnawing at the end of his pencil.

  "Yeah, sure, I like that better anyway." I popped another grape in my mouth while he scribbled away.

  "Fighting for good..." He mumbled before continuing on. "'As you recall, when we met after the Gauntlet, as well as in previous correspondence, you asked me to tell you if there was anything I needed. Well, it has come to my attention that there is a lot of extra food at Imdalind Academy. We would like your assistance to deliver the leftovers to the Undermortal communities and feed those of your people who are starving and in need of your assistance. With your gracious help, we could begin delivering food as early as next week. Your humble servant,' blah blah blah... What do you think?" Eddy looked up from the letter we had been slaving over for the past few hours, his eyes somewhat glazed over.

  It was the weekend. We should be practicing that weird expansion trick that he was still struggling with, but we had bigger problems. It had been six weeks since school started, six weeks since my communities sole source of food and supplies were taken from them. I didn't want to think of what state they were in. Even without the added benefit of passing information and starting our rebellion I needed to get this food train
going.

  "I think it has enough ass-kissing that she won't be able to say no," I popped another grape and jumped up from the bed, digging through the piles of clothes and food that were littered over my floor in search of my boots.

  "Let's do this!" I held out my hands, slipping into my oversized shoes.

  "Let me copy it down clean and pretty first," Eddy said, batting away my grabby hands. "How are you going to get it to her anyway? Walk to Imdalind?"

  "I was thinking about that," I mused, tapping my chin. "I could always try that stuttering thing we learned in class. Pop from one place to another."

  "You know only Drak’s can do that, and you are certainly not a Drak." Eddy laughed at me and I stuck my tongue out at him. "If anyone's gonna try that it’s me. I have a bite from a supercharged first of his kind Vilỳ, after all. I'm a special edition. I should be able to do all the things."

  "So am I! You heard what she said, the longer they sleep..." I wagged my eyebrows at him teasingly, but his face fell.

  "How long did you sleep for anyway?" He asked, his face deadly serious. It was not a good look for him. "I didn't know you then."

  "A while," I said with a shrug, locking the information down as deep as it could go, even though it had been pounding against my head since Mira had let that bit of info slip.

  I had slept for six months. Months. Not weeks. Not days. Months.

  I was actually questioning if I was a freak. I would have to see the Vilỳ that bit me to know for sure as to what had bitten me, but there was no way I was going back there.

  We had locked that part of the world away for good reason.

  "Probably still don't have magic as strong as yours though." I teased, mussing his hair and getting the conversation back on stable ground. "And I don't see you stuttering anywhere."

  "Okay fine, so stuttering, or using our super-powered Vilỳ magic is out. So, what's left?" I could see Eddy physically scratching items off a list in his mind. "The prince seems to be talking to you again."

 

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