Burning Bridges

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Burning Bridges Page 7

by Nadege Richards


  She sighed and moved to sit on the bed. “Is it alright if I confide in you for a moment?” Before I could answer, she continued. “Everyone has this image of me as future Queen, future heiress. Seems people are so caught up in assuming what I want that they are too busy to ask me themselves. I don’t get...”

  She stopped.

  “What?” My sudden interest got the best of me.

  “I don’t get why there are two Havens or why we are so different. Is our blood not the same color? Do we not bleed the same or share each other’s burdens? I don’t understand.” Her eyes watched me passionately, as if she could see right through me. That frightened me more than anyone could ever know. “What makes you and me so different?”

  She waited for an answer I couldn’t give her. “Well, that’s a loaded question. Maybe something you should ask the King.” I eyed the door and she watched me. “I should be going, I’ve got somewhere to be and it’s not safe to be alone with you in here.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  She had no idea. Her blue eyes watched me—eyes that didn’t belong to a Warrior or a Hunter. She was neither earthly nor otherworldly, she lied somewhere in between where to fathom beauty meant to ponder life.

  “I need to leave.” I moved to the door and she stood to her feet, but made no indications of stopping me. I had my hand on the knob when she called me.

  “Just between you and me,” she said, barely above a whisper, “you can keep the money. No one has to know.”

  I didn’t stop to ask how she knew; the Princess was a mystery in herself. It wasn’t until after I closed the door and walked as far as I could, did I start to panic.

  She knew. Yet, she would remain silent about it. At least that’s what she’d said. There were very few things I didn’t understand in this world, and the Princess had just become another enigma in the mess.

  I wondered if she knew I had the picture as I walked down the grand, stoned staircase and out into the foyer. If so, did she know the little girl had eyes as big and blue as hers? Yes, I was sure of it. I didn’t know if she was the girl, but there was no mistaking the similarities.

  As I made my way past the guards and into the light of the moon, the night whispered to me the secrets of New Haven.

  Secrets I now held in my pocket.

  E I G H T

  Echo

  Isobeli could talk for years.

  She sat on my bed with the city’s newspaper sprawled out in front of her, her mouth moving hysterically as she filled me in on the latest gossip.

  I stood by my window, my back to her, as I stared out at the sun and wondered why the gods did nothing while their children suffered. If difference was so essential, I thought to myself with a frown, then why would any of us try so hard as to fit in? Why would we bother? Was there a difference in this case?

  My answer came to me in a gasp as Isobeli shouted something and shoved the newspaper in my face. “Look at you and the Prince,” she said, voice taking on a whole different octave of excitement. “You guys look so fit for each other.”

  My frown worsened. We try so hard because it is all we’ve ever known, I thought. We try to fit ourselves into this world so that we don’t seem more different than different, an oddity in a sea of normality. We try because it is only instinct, but we obey because it is law.

  “I don’t want to see it,” I growled, pushing the newspaper away. I still caught sight of the Prince and I dancing, playing the part of happy betrotheds while the ugly truth sat just below our façades. After Ayden had left last night, the Prince had treated me to wine and frivolous dancing. I got to know his family a whole lot more, but perhaps just a little too much more. The surprise he’d wanted to show me was the new garden my father was building in the rear of the Grand Season fortress. Bleeding hearts was all there had been to see, but the memories they conjured were enough to get me through the night.

  “Oh, come on.” Issy dropped the paper on my bed and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched me. “What’s wrong now? I thought you sai—”

  “Look—” I pleaded, “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just...let’s just talk about you. How’s Aunt Janelle?”

  Issy shook her head, but decided to go with the change in subject. “She’s fine. Great, actually. She asks about you all the time, wants to make sure Aunty isn’t spoiling you rotten.” She smiled. “She’s proud of you, you know?”

  A smile played on my lips. “She is? For what?”

  “Just for being you.” Issy folded up the newspaper and sat it on the floor. “You should visit Delentia again, before it is too late.”

  I watched her. “How do you mean? We have time.”

  “No, we don’t.” She sighed and continued. “Mom’s been worried about you the same. She wants to know how you are dealing with the marriage.”

  My smile faltered, but I didn’t let it fade completely. “Tell her she shouldn’t worry about me. I’m doing the best I can in the position that I’m in.”

  “I know, and I get that, but how do—”

  “Drop it,” I said, my voice harsh and brittle. “No one cares what I think.” I moved from the bed and to my dresser, hoping Issy wouldn’t see the signs of depression I’d been trying to battle since coming home from the ball last night. I’d excused myself from dinner and locked myself in my room for the night. I didn’t sleep, though; the gods wouldn’t have it. Darkness fell and morning rose, and I still had yet to rest.

  My night was spent with vacant stares at the poster of King Val wondering, what if? What if we all had a second chance?

  As much as I prayed, and even begged, all I heard from the gods was nothing.

  A rap on the door stopped Issy from saying anything. I moved to answer it and a short woman with a pretty face stood behind it.

  “Yes?” I asked. My voice may have sounded rude, but I couldn’t tolerate the disturbance at the moment.

  “The Queen has asked for you,” she whispered inaudibly.

  I sighed and closed the door behind me, making my way downstairs. If I knew any better, I’d assume my mother wanted to discuss wedding details and she’d be waiting in Father’s study room looking through magazines. I’d have to walk in looking excited when in reality I wanted to take every magazine she owned and throw them through a shredder. Along with that clutch I resented so much. This wedding was tiring and I was about fed up with all of it.

  To my surprise, Mother wasn’t waiting in Father’s study room and she wasn’t excited. Far from it, actually. As I walked down the corridor leading to our living room area, Mother’s swearing and pacing of the room found me before I found her. It filled me with so much dread it took half my being to just open the doors and walk into the room. Instinct told me to bow my head in shame, that whatever was her problem had to do with my date with the Prince last night. But there was barely time for that, not when she was this upset.

  “Were you in my chambers last night? When you went to the fortress?” she asked, no preludes whatsoever.

  I swallowed hard, forcing the lie out as smoothly as possible. “No, Mother. What’s the matter?”

  She turned from me and began pacing again, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. “Someone’s been through my things, Echo. I didn’t give anyone that permission!” Her loose, blonde tresses flew up around her face, her emerald eyes emanating that kind of rage only my mother was capable of. The sun beating in from the open windows did nothing to hide it. I stepped into the room and sat on the arm of the love seat, doing my best to keep my heart from slipping to the pit of my stomach.

  “Are you missing anything? I’m sure Father can—”

  “No! Your father cannot know about this. Promise me you won’t tell him,” she slurred, tears in her eyes.

  “Mother, wait. I-I don’t understand what’s going on. Is it money?” That had to be it, the money Ayden took last night.

  She shook her head as if trying to rid herself of something and said, “No, no. Echo, a
lot of people could be hurt if I don’t find this picture. I had it right there, I swear!” She moved over to the tea table in the middle of the room and began digging through the drawers.

  A picture? What picture could be so important?

  I ran through the night in my head, replaying the moment I realized Ayden had taken mother’s money she always kept hidden in her dresser in case Father decided to leave us. I’d told her that would never happen because I was sure he loved us enough, but she insisted that there were things not even I could understand. The meaning of that was far beyond me.

  “What picture are you talking about?” I went to her and kneeled beside her. My mother looked out of place in a room filled with pastel, lace, and expensive woods. The simple fact that she was on the floor made me panic. What was going on? I pulled her hands away from the table and sat them in her lap. “Mother, what picture? Was it of you and Father, or Aunt Janelle? Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll find it.”

  Her eyes looked cold now, blank even. She watched me, her lips trembling violently as she mumbled, “It’s all over. Everything.” Her gaze turned to my hair and she watched me closely. She reached out and touched my brow and trailed her fingers down the side of my face. “I tried so hard, Echo, the gods know I did. No amount of time can fix the sins I’ve committed.”

  My heart rate increased in my chest, my breathing escaping my lips in hot rasps. I couldn’t even find the words or where to begin. What are you talking about, sounded good, but the words wouldn’t form.

  “Aleksandria,” my mother said in her strong Thedibian accent, bringing my thoughts back to her. “When you find love, you take it. Never let it go, do you understand?”

  Panicking, I removed her hands from my face and stood to my feet. “You’re not feeling well, is that it? You—”

  “Promise me!” Mother shouted hysterically.

  “I promise, okay.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and absentmindedly kneaded the thread of my gown between my fingers. I needed something tangible to hold on to, something that kept me grounded while reality seemed to spiral into oblivion.

  Mother stood to her feet and seemed to calm down, but her stare still remained vacant. “Some are born to live and to fight, Echo. Others are born to fight for their right to live. When those two collide, there’s hell to pay.”

  I remained silent.

  Mother watched me. “We only dream of—”

  “Abriel!” Father’s voice was loud compared to the silence that had taken over the room. It startled the both of us and Mother made an attempt to seem decent as Father walked into the room. “There you ladies are. We have a guest.”

  I turned to look at Father for only a second, but when I met Mother’s gaze again, all signs of sadness or apprehension had vanished. It was as if none of that had even happened.

  “Oh, how lovely. Who is it, dear?” Mother went to him and kissed his lips, looking up at him dreamily. The woman I saw before my father was not the same woman I saw only a few seconds ago.

  Huh, I thought, just like that.

  “Do you remember the fellow who used to work for your sister?” Father asked. He was obviously talking to Mother because I knew no man. “I believe his name is Conroy?”

  If I hadn’t been anticipating the hysterical woman to show again, I would have missed the frown that played on my mother’s face before it disappeared into a full blown smile that reached her eyes. A man with long, dark hair and scruffy clothing moved from behind Father’s back. He removed his hat and bowed his head to my mother and me, a small smile on his face. His dirt-packed boots and hardened features told stories of late nights in the field and hours in the shops. The fact that Father referred to a Hunter as a ‘guest’ surprised me.

  “Conroy,” Mother whispered. Familiarity laced her tone. “How nice to see you again after all these years. I believe you’ve met my daughter?”

  Conroy looked up at me through his dark tresses and smiled a smile so familiar, yet so distant it hurt to think about it. His deep, blue eyes went on for miles, a depth so sacred it seemed ancient. I curtsied for him and he winked.

  He winked?

  “I believe so. How’ve you been, Princess?” he asked slowly.

  My smile faltered, but one look at Mother told me that if I slipped again, it’d be one long trip down. “I’ve been doing great, but if you will excuse me, I think I will go attend to some things in town.”

  I turned to leave, but Father stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “She’ll be a wife soon enough, Conroy,” he said. “We’re very proud of the woman she’s becoming.”

  “Indeed,” Mother chimed in, tightness in her voice. “She marks the beginning of a new, prosperous era. She was born to be Queen.”

  With my back still to them, I made my way out of the room, holding in the tears that dared to spill. No one would listen to me! What did I have to do, what did I have to say to make my voice heard? Only Caesar was scolded for his foolishness, and yet, Mother still forgave him for it all. If rebellion was the only way to get their attention, then they were in for a rude awakening.

  N I N E

  Ayden

  The Princess stormed out of the house with the rage of a Tigress. I’d expected to see the Queen, actually—on one of her usual rants about something gone astray. She shrugged off the guard who dared talk to her and pushed him away as she wandered down the lawn. I hid in the bushes of the bleeding heart garden, unabashedly watching her.

  “Why?” she shouted, kicking over a watering can on her way to the sitting bench beside the huge oak.

  I watched in amazement, completely and utterly captivated. Her blue eyes stared out at the sun in the sky and I could see her lips moving hesitantly as if she were whispering a prayer. I wanted to know what she was saying, but talking to her would risk the King’s wrath and the upbringing of last night. It seemed neither of us wanted to discuss why I was in the room or why she let me leave with the money.

  “Echo,” someone called from the distance, and she yelled, “Go away!”

  To hear those words from a Royal’s mouth was startling. There was something about this girl, her defiance really got to me. The way she went out of her way to do everything possibly wrong and uncivilized intrigued me. Her rebellion...yes, that’s what had me so mesmerized.

  A tall, blonde woman I knew as the King’s oldest daughter, Shadow Abbeny, wandered around the corner of the palace to where Echo sat. Though she knew she was there, Echo still refused to acknowledge her.

  “Want to go into town again? Ezily has something new to show you,” Shadow said, her hazel irises that were the norm for Warriors watching Echo’s face as she gazed into the sky.

  After a moment, Echo finally said, “Why me, Shadow? Why am I the only one unhappy?”

  Her sister sighed, but didn’t make any intentions of moving. She whispered her answer too low for me to understand, and as if my feet had a mind of their own, I moved in closer.

  “It’s all in your mind, sweetheart. You can be happy if you allow yourself to be.” Shadow pushed a strand of the Princess’ hair behind her ear, and I felt my fingers twitch with the urge to do the same. To run my hands through her hair and feel the silk on my skin.

  The thought angered me. Had I really become this infatuated with her? I cursed myself for getting distracted and went back to work in the garden, cursing the heavens even more as I plowed. Though I was further away, I could still hear the Princess’ voice.

  “I feel...I feel like I’m lost in this world where I don’t belong, like I’m living for everyone but myself.” I looked up from the corner of my eye to see that Echo was pacing the lawn, her hands playing with the thread of her gown. That was a habit of hers, I’d noticed last night.

  “Echo, have a seat,” her sister coaxed, but she waved her off and continued to pace.

  “I feel like I don’t...fit in here.” Echo looked down at her sister and frowned. “I have so many questions, and I don’t have answers. I don’t want to
be some lucky catch for the Prince. I want to travel and leave Thediby, dammit! It’s like—” When she turned around, she suddenly caught my eye. It wasn’t fear I saw or disgust, or anything I’d expect from a Royal. It was relief. “It’s like I’m lost,” she said. Her eyes watched me. “I just have to find my way home again. You know?”

  She glanced down at her sister for assurance, but Shadow looked anything but pleased. “Are you mad? Speaking so loudly and out of terms could get you in trouble. What’s gotten into you?” Shadow stood to her feet and took Echo’s hand in hers.

  Anger played on her face just before she was consumed by sadness. I didn’t know if her sister could tell, but that look spoke legions for me, it was a look I was sure I’d taken on many times before. It was the look of desperation.

  “Nothing,” Echo whispered. She pushed Shadow’s hands away and brushed the loose hairs from her eyes as the wind picked up. “I’m just tired, perhaps. You know me, the pipe dreamer, right?”

  There were tears in her eyes. Her sister sighed and began leading her in the direction of the palace. “You need a goodnight’s sleep. Only a few days and you won’t have that privacy much longer.”

  Echo followed behind her, though I saw reluctance in every step she took. She turned to watch the sun again, but at the last moment, she turned to watch me. It wasn’t just desperation, I thought to myself, it was a plea for help.

  “That’s not a smart idea,” a voice whispered behind me.

  I spun on my heels and met her face to face. Of all the people I’d wanted to see today, Feven was sadly in the bottom three. After two days and no word from her, she’d become dead to me.

  “You’re alive, I see,” I sneered, throwing down the shovel for the wheelbarrow.

  “And you’re a garden boy still, I see,” she mimicked. I watched her closely and, from the corner of my eye, there was no mistaking her new tattoos, the loss of weight, and the ghostly shade her complexion had taken on. Feven looked sick. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, by the way. Been there, done that.” She moved from behind the bush she stood in and walked towards me with a duffle bag in tow.

 

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