Fae Rose Academy: Year One (For The Purely Divine Book 1)

by Quinn Ashwood

  I remained silent, but I bowed my head slightly in acknowledgment.

  "You should know very well that my magic runs on pure emotion. A queen does not need to place her emotions to the side to rule. That is a stupid, belittling mentality that you continue to go by. How many times do I need to tell you to fix that attitude of yours?"

  I pouted my lips and lowered my head, feeling slightly ashamed to be reminded, again, about my attitude issues.

  "This is your chance to claim someone who has no knowledge of our world. She may have heard the rumors or read the legends, but she is new to our kind. When she saw you in that drunken state of misery, she did not discard you. She could have dismissed you like the low scum of those around her had. She could have mocked you with her words or insulted you for being incoherent and intoxicated. She warned you to watch for the elders, not knowing you'd already encountered them and dealt with their ridicule. If you are going to be a fool and not acknowledge why she clearly passed the test, then do not shed tears when you lose the opportunity to find another like her."

  Mother moved away then, walking to Father's side. I finally could take a breath, and I looked at Father, who had a guarded expression on his face. He wasn't going to give me a bit of sympathy in my mother's presence.

  "We will wait until the clock strikes twelve on her eighteenth birthday. If she follows the calls to the shrine and asks Mother Universe for her purpose, she will receive the invitation to attend Fae Rose. Xavier will go down there himself to pick her up."

  "What about her friend?" Father inquired. "You did mention she has a friend she cherishes. Do you think she'd leave her behind?"

  Mother laughed, the room growing warmer again and the plants desperately reaching out for the wave of warmth and magic that followed.

  "Her friend may attend. It's obvious that she is not human, same as the girl. She won't dare leave the future princess's side for her own reasons. You'll understand when you see them."

  Mother clapped her hands once and sighed. "I'm tired. Getting angry so suddenly is so much work. I'm going to take a rejuvenating bath." She looked to my father. "Talk to your son."

  She didn't even acknowledge me as she strolled towards the doors that immediately opened at her approach. Three fae women in white gowns holding vine-woven baskets bowed in acknowledgment as Mother approached.

  "Perfect timing. To the royal bathing corridors," she encouraged.

  "Yes, our queen," they responded in unison and rose up to escort Mother. The doors closed once more, and we stood in absolute silence.

  Father finally cleared his throat and sighed.

  "Xavier. What have I told you about angering your mother?" He looked relieved that nothing was destroyed in the process. "At least remember to do that in the courtyard. There are valuable items in this living room that cannot be recreated."

  "Sorry, Father," I replied, feeling slightly annoyed that he was more worried about the pieces of art and not my broken pride.

  Father sighed and walked up to me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he looked into my eyes.

  "I'm not discarding your feelings, son. However, your mother is right. Why is it that a queen should discard her emotions for the throne, but it's okay for you to exhibit those very emotions?"

  His wise words settled into my mind, and they made obvious sense.

  "I..." My words struggled to come out. "Sorry."

  "You are too quick to judge, Xavier. As your mother acknowledged, this woman did not place judgment on you. She reminded you to watch out for the elders who would cause trouble for you, and apologized for a common human need when you were the one spying on her."

  I had to fight not to blush this time, but he had a grave point.

  "You let your anger and sense of entitlement get in the way of common sense. You are ready for big things, son, but you must work on your immediate judgment and down-casting of the lower ones. They are human, we all understand that, but they were born that way and serve a different purpose than we do. Your destined one is not of their kind. You may not sense her magic now, but there could be many reasons to that."

  "Like?" I questioned.

  "If her fae magic was obvious, do you really think you'd be the one having the chance at her heart?" Father questioned.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat; the worry of the common enemy that I'd pushed to the side returned with force.

  "No," I replied.

  "Now you are using your brain." Father removed his hand from my shoulder and turned around. "When your mother is finished with her relaxing bath, go apologize properly and explain what you've learned from the discussion. I do not want the roses in the bedroom to suffocate from her lingering anger. They're from the lands of the pixies and were hard to get."

  He began to walk away but stopped.

  "The other kingdom knows of her, Xavier. It's been confirmed. I'm unsure what their plans are, but time is of dear importance. Keep an eye on the girl. I have spies in the area to make sure she is safe until we can retrieve her. Be on guard and continue to train your combat skills."

  "Yes, Father." I stood taller and nodded my head, even though I'm sure he couldn't see me.

  "Good." He carried on walking until the doors opened and the guards bowed in greeting. "Keep your eyes on the prize and not her tooshie."

  I stopped myself from seething in anger, but I knew Father could feel my embarrassment because he burst into laughter.

  "Goodnight, son. Pleasant dreams, and apologize to your mother," he reminded with a wave as the doors came to a close.

  I let out a breath and waved my right hand in a full circle, a black portal forming in seconds before it morphed into a floating mirror. I glanced at the forming image, the rippling tides of black water showing the reflection of the room of the very woman we were speaking of.

  She was sleeping on the floor; a thin blanket graced her naked body. I tried not to get turned on by her beauty, teeth sinking into my bottom lip to stop me from licking my bottom lip in admiration.

  I despised that she made me feel this way and I'd only just met her, but what caught my attention was the slight glow in her blonde hair. It reminded me of mother's, which I knew was impossible unless you had magic of a high caliber.

  Many called it “tinsel hair,” a trait that was either passed down from family genetics or due to high levels of magic.

  When I met her in person, she didn't exhibit a single bit of magic. Yet...why is her hair glowing like that as she sleeps?

  I secretly wanted to watch her as she quietly breathed in and out, her plump, light red lips in the perfect pout position, but I knew it would make me lose my guard and I couldn't have any of that.

  "She's not my destined one," I muttered to myself and flicked my hand at the image, the entire scene disappearing as the ripples of magic returned. Dropping my hand to my side, the portal mirror vanished, and I took a deep breath and let it out.

  "I better go await Mother and apologize, or I'm so getting beaten," I whined.

  It didn't matter how old I got. My parents would not hesitate to throw whatever they could at me if I acted up and didn't apologize to them before the end of the day.

  Far worse than those humans that throw shoes at their children. Their legends say it doesn't matter how far they run. The shoe somehow always finds and hits the target.

  Sorcery, I tell you.

  With a shake of my head, I headed towards the doors, the image of the woman with purple eyes haunting my imagination - that and her plump booty.

  She's NOT my destined one!

  Destined To Kick Ass

  ~ROSADETTE~

  * * *

  Roses.

  The scent filled my nostrils and brought a tingle of happiness with my mental recognition of where I was.

  The field...my field of roses. My birthplace...home.

  My eyes opened slowly, and there I was, in the middle of a vast sea of purple roses. They sparkled with sliver glitter, making them even more mesmerizing t
o peer at. My heart beat quickly in frenzy, my body warm with something foreign to me.

  To be in this very place made me feel like a whole different person. One with power and gifts I could not mentally grasp. I struggled with determining if this was reality or an illusion, unable to accept that I was blessed with this land of harmony and power.

  Why wasn't it in my possession? What is holding me back from proclaiming what is mine?

  The questions flooded my senses, yet I had no answers. Lifting my left hand up, I stared at it long and hard. Glowing lines began to materialize against my pale skin, shades of red and purple intertwining and moving up my arm.

  I lowered my gaze to the glistening purple dress I wore that clung to every curve of me. My hair glowed and floated with energy, and the field responded by emitting even more warmth.

  It all made no sense but at the same time, it all seemed right.

  Rosadette. Wake up.

  My brows came together in confusion, my consciousness beginning to fade. It took me some time to realize it was my subconscious, because my real eyes fluttered open just enough to see a blurry image of Camilla.

  The image faded away as my eyes closed once more. My body felt like it had been floating, but that was short-lived as I felt like I was suddenly falling off a bed.

  Which makes no sense because I didn't have a bed.

  The realization made me a little frightened, but the falling sensation lasted two seconds before I was caught by something - or someone?

  My mind was woven in an intense fog, and I struggled to get out of it. I must have worked myself a little too hard yesterday, having stayed until midnight in the fields because one of the elders grew ill and hadn't finished her portion.

  I volunteered to take her place, but that required three more hours of weeding, planting, and carrying the produce back to the barns for sorting.

  The thought of all the labor made me drift off almost immediately, my dreams a haze of darkness. The only peculiar thing was a pair of striking blue eyes staring at me from the distance.

  It should have been scary with the darkness surrounding the person, but it was as though they were observing me. Analyzing me from afar.

  "Rose?"

  This time around, the voice that was calling me was loud and close to my ear. I almost flinched at the sound, but my body was far slower in responding than my mind.

  Camilla?

  With a few attempts, my heavy eyelids just barely opened thanks to the thick sand dust that crusted the corners of my lashes.

  "Hmm?" It was all that I could sound out, my mind trying to figure out what time it was. It felt like I'd just fallen asleep and from the absence of sunlight in my dark hut of a home, it clearly was still nightfall.

  "Jeez, Rose. Don't tell me you forgot about the whole 'wake me up an hour before my birthday, so I can go on my hill conquest and find this mysterious shrine that the old drunk geezer told me to find' statement you made yesterday?"

  Oh?

  Three days had passed since the night where I met that drunken wise man. I had no clue what was up with him and why the thought of whether he got home safely still dawdled in my head.

  I'd silently kept a lookout for him, wondering if we'd meet when he was sober, but it looked like he was officially gone from this area. The village was small enough for everyone to know one another, so if there wasn't any talk of the newcomer, it meant he must have come in and gone out before anyone else could catch an eye of him.

  It was odd to feel a sense of frustration about the whole interaction. The man may have been drunk and a bit judgemental of me, but I felt like he had key answers that I needed in regard to my origin.

  Again, an odd thought to have, but it was one of those "gut instincts". Too bad I'd never figure out if I was correct or not.

  The mention of an hour before my birthday reminded me of the very conversation I had with Camilla the previous night.

  * * *

  "Chamomile!"

  "What are you whining about now? I swear you said you were exhausted, and that was why I volunteered to walk you home." Poor Camilla must have been on her period or something because she was truly fed up with me.

  "Camilla! You’ve said since we were kids that I can whine whenever I want, and you'd comfort me." I blinked my tired eyes innocently at her.

  She looked sympathetic for all of five seconds before her scowl returned. "It's that time of the month. What do you need from me?"

  "Ah." I shook my head. "You're always a b.i.t.c-"

  "I'm ditching you," she huffed and turned right around. I hooked my arm around hers before she could stomp off. Camilla was a fast walker and if I didn't hang onto her for dear life she'd be gone in a flash.

  "I love you."

  "What do you want to complain about?" she questioned again.

  "So remember the drunk guy I told you about?"

  "The one that you can't get out of your head?"

  "Did I tell you that?" I pondered.

  "Probably." She shrugged. "What about him? Don't tell me you're falling in love with an old man because of his blue eyes."

  "No!" I tugged my arm away and immediately waved my arms in denial. "I'm not into older men like that! He was attractive in an odd way but that is not my cup of tea to drink. Nope!"

  Camilla smirked. "If only you knew."

  "Knew what?" I inquired.

  "Nothing," she brushed off my question. "So about the old man you secretly have a crush on."

  I gave her a narrowed look but I carried on before Camilla made a sudden run for it. "He was talking about a shrine on the top of some hill. I know there isn't a shrine there, but I want to go and check. He said the elders showed him during his tour, but if no one is talking about his arrival, I'm not sure if he told the truth."

  Camilla frowned, but her attention was focused on me which said she was considering my explanation.

  "This man just shows up, ridicules you for doing your business, questions your age, and then tells you about this shrine, correct?"

  "Yes." I bobbed my head.

  "Anything else?" The way she arched an eyebrow told me she was expecting me to spill about the last part of our discussion. I'd purposely left that part out because I knew it would piss Camilla off.

  The "end your life" talk was a hard no-no with Camilla. It happened far too often within these parts, and back when we were young teens, a guy she actually liked as a friend ended his life. It was hard on her, to the point that her parents almost banned her from hanging out in these parts anymore, but she eventually got through it.

  Camilla just didn't handle death easily. Not like it was something that should be handled with a grain of salt.

  Life was a cherished aspect to Camilla's family. I knew from the tales and legends they read that it was one of those symbolic things and wasn't something to casually toss around - or end.

  I agreed with such values and beliefs, and that was exactly why I avoided ever mentioning it in those times where I questioned my own self-worth. I didn't judge those who committed such acts. It was due to the harsh environment and the people that revolved around us that pushed them to think they weren't worthy enough to breathe the same air as everyone else.

  I didn't think they were "weak" for giving up, but what I always wondered about was whether they regretted it at the last second of life. That was exactly what held me back each time I was near that edge.

  That and the desire for justice.

  "Rosadette?"

  The slight impatience in Camilla's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I gave her a nervous smile.

  "You're not going to like what the last part of our discussion was," I admitted.

  "If it's about death, of course, I'm not going to like it," she huffed.

  I gawked at her for a few seconds and reminded myself to close my mouth again. The one thing that I'd learned through the years - and still freaked me out just a bit - was her ability to guess what I was hiding. It was like she had mind power
s or could see the past or something. Totally freaky, but didn't surprise me as much as when we were kids.

  I'd exaggerated her sixth sense and for a good year, I told everyone she had super magic powers and was a princess from another world.

  It was "cute," or at least that’s what most of the adults would say whenever I went on and on about it.

  "Uh..." I began to bite my bottom lip nervously as my eyes looked everywhere but her.

  "Spill it, Rose," she groaned. "Might as well tell me the rest."

  "He...well, he asked me why I hadn't killed myself," I bluntly replied.

  Camilla went from slightly annoyed to damn right angry. I flinched at the expression, and for a split second, I swore her silver eyes turned to a piercing blue. I immediately lifted my hands to rub at my eyes, and when I looked back, they were silver again.

  "And... you're mad," I commented instead of pointing out the weird eye change.

  I'm seriously tired if I'm seeing things.

  "How dare he ask you that?!" she snapped.

  "He was drunk," I defended. "I guess cause this area is known for its poor people and high suicide rates and all that jazz. It's just the reputation of this place."

  Why am I defending this guy anyway?

  "Invalid." Camilla was not having it. "He better not have told you to go kill yourself or I swear upon the universe, I will scout every bit of land until my knife slices his-"

  "No!" I raised my hands up in a stopping motion.

  I knew Camilla. If she set her mind on something, she'd do it - and with her high status and powerful parents, she'd get away with it.

  "He didn't. He asked why I hadn't done so and I told him because I wanted justice for all those who mocked and belittled me. I wished him well and went home."

  The silence that followed had me on the edge, but eventually, Camilla let out the breath she was clearly holding.