Burning Bridges

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Burning Bridges Page 12

by Nadege Richards


  “You better not have!” she yelled, and my eyes shot to the floor. “You are to be pure and—”

  “Abriel!” Father shouted. His voice echoed around the room and I sunk deeper into the floor. “Discuss this privately, not here.”

  Mother looked embarrassed. She grabbed me and pulled me towards the doors. Shadow and Everlae stood off in a corner of the room and they both shook their heads at me as if asking ‘why’.

  Mother pulled me into the hallway, far from the throne room, and began to pace the long, marble hallway. I grew agitated watching her and finally spoke up.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “No! Echo, can you even begin to comprehend what you’ve done to this family? Thank the gods that it wasn’t some vagrant or peasant! Why?”

  I stared down at my hands and tried to get the dirt from under my nails. “I do not know.”

  Mother stopped pacing and said, “Do not make me regret you, Echo. Remember who you are! You are not one of them, you have a duty here. How do you expect to gain respect from a nation you are supposed to rule if you do this? Such a scandalous thing to do!”

  At her every word, I flinched. They cut deeper and deeper into me, breaking down a wall I barely knew I had. But it was there, and she’d finally managed to destroy it. The words came and there was no stopping them.

  “I am a disgrace! I’m pitiful, Mother! You and Father have this hideous image of who you expect me to be, but I don’t have the same mindset. I’m different and forever will be. I don’t want to be a princess; I don’t even want to be here right now!”

  Mother frowned. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re tired.”

  “No! I didn’t leave with Noah, I hate him! I’d rather die a painful, slow death by my own hands than marry him. I left for Old Haven and returning wasn’t even a thought. I met a boy, Mother, and he understood me! I might even be in love, I don’t know. I just know I do not want to live this life…alone.”

  My mother stared at me with tears in her eyes. She shook her head and, before I could react, her hand came out and she slapped me across my face, the sound so loud it could have been heard from anywhere in the house. I was shocked at first, but when I tasted my own blood in my mouth, I grew angry.

  “I advise you to clean yourself up. You will be Queen in a matter of days, start acting and looking like one.” She turned and made her way back to the throne room, her heels clicking behind her. The blood in my mouth lost its taste and the pain subsided.

  As soon as she was gone, I screamed, I threw things, and I swore; I became someone else. I’d thought I was alone, but when I turned, Silas, Everlae’s husband, stood watching me. I said nothing to him and I didn’t even bother with the fact that he might’ve heard my confession.

  I didn’t know how I made it to my room, but everything from my wardrobe to my bed made me so angry. I stripped my bed and threw everything to the floor. The trinkets, perfume bottles, and jewelry on my dressers smashed to the floor with finality. The picture on my wall, the one of King Val, rested on my floor in shreds. If I could have peeled the pink wallpaper from my walls I would have.

  I crashed from the high too early, the adrenaline leaving me in a rush. I dropped on my bed and did what every broken princess does.

  I cried.

  T H I R T E E N

  Ayden

  I took a breath.

  I shook my head as if to rid myself of everything. I stomped, I cursed, I screamed, and I grew nothing but angry. Though, through it all, I never found my release. As I walked away from the gates, she was still on my mind. Her face, her hair, her scent—all of her. My hands shook and clenched at my sides, and a pounding headache grew in my head from the sudden stress. I had my doubts, of course; I wanted to run through the border and tell her that I couldn’t get her out of my head. Even though I found that she could be excruciatingly annoying while ranting on the way she did, she was irresistible.

  Irresistible?

  I shook my head again and kept walking. How do you go about forgetting someone who’d slowly become a part of you? Maybe it was the day at the ball or even last night. I wasn’t sure, but there was a point when I realized Echo Abbeny was different. There was something in her walk, or was it her smile? She didn’t smile often, I realized, but when I caught one last night, I’d lost myself. Talking to her was like…talking to myself, as odd as that sounds. It came naturally, and even though I was sure we had nothing in common, somewhere in me I knew Echo understood me.

  I smiled.

  She was different.

  I stopped in front of the house and willed myself to turn back. I’d never been so eager about a girl in my life, much less a princess. I’d met other woman, but they’d never stuck to me so easily in the time Echo has. She angered and weakened me at the same time. I was a rational man, I was.

  The thought had me reaching for the doorknob. Ayden, what are you thinking? The Princess?

  I heaved a sigh and walked through the door, kicking off my shoes in the corner. Milo sat on the couch in the small living room, flipping through an old magazine he couldn’t read. I assumed everyone else was washing up for breakfast.

  “Hey, kid,” I said, settling down beside Milo. He looked up at me and shrugged. “What are you reading?”

  He smiled. “Hell if I know. Dad taught you anything yet?”

  “You’re funny,” I murmured, kicking my feet up on the wicket table. I looked at him and he averted his eyes, staring blankly at the magazine. He tried to hide it, but I’d been reading Milo so easily since he could talk. “You want to read, don’t you?”

  Milo shrugged.

  “You can tell me.”

  He set the magazine down after a moment and sat facing me with his legs crossed. “What if I said I did, and Misty too?”

  “I’d say you’re not the only one.” I shook my head and stared up at the ceiling. “You’ll learn, I promise. I know…I know that you want to go to school and all that crap, but you got to give me some time, alright? I’m trying.”

  “That’s the thing,” Milo whispered. “Why are you trying, Ayden? Is that not Father’s job?”

  There he was with that ancient talking again. I frowned. “No, he doesn’t think so. I’ll work and get you and Misty in a school. Me, not him. I’m not your father, Milo, but I’ll be damned if I let him ruin this family.”

  Milo shifted on the couch and I felt his head on my shoulder. We both sat silently in thought, listening to the silent movements in the house. I was sure Mother was going to demand she go into town before Mass. Father would try to stop her, but being the pushover that he was, he’d let her.

  After another long moment, Milo said, “Who was that woman, Ayden? The one with you?”

  It didn’t come as a shock to me that he knew. After all, he was watching us through the window. My answer didn’t come as a surprise either. “A very special woman, Milo, with special powers.”

  Milo laughed. “What kind of powers?”

  “Special ones, I guess.” I shook my head and allowed my mind to wander. “She can make you really angry and happy at the same time. She makes you laugh even when you don’t want to, and worst of all, she has a way of making you want to open up to her and tell her all of your secrets. You feel like you’ve slipped into another world when you stand next to her, completely different from this one. You can’t ignore her either, she’s everywhere. You can’t take your eyes off of her face, especially with those dimples. It’s almost as if…”

  “She cast a spell on you?” Milo offered.

  I laughed, Echo’s face coming to memory. “Yeah, actually. You could say that.”

  “I don’t like girls,” he confessed, shivering as if the thought scared him to death.

  “What’s wrong with them?”

  “Trick question, right? Isn’t it obvious? They’re annoying, just like you said. And they whine and cry. I think I could go without them.” He nodded self-sufficiently and I just had to laugh.

  “Tel
l me that when your thirteen and going through puberty. I’d be glad to hear it.” I smiled at him and shook out his hair, which desperately needed a cut. I noticed then that he wore his church clothes. Well, what we considered appropriate for church with the money we had. “You’re going with Mother and Misty?” I asked him.

  “Surprising, ain’t it? Mis said she’d clean my half of the room for a week if I went.” He shrugged. “You should come with.”

  I immediately shook my head and jumped up from the couch. “Don’t think so. The gods don’t like me much, we still have a few, uh, things to work out.”

  “Right, right. Things.”

  I frowned and punched him in the shoulder. He rubbed at it as if I’d really hurt him and smiled. “You hit like a girl.”

  “You look like a girl,” I countered. He laughed, and then shrugged me away.

  Father came into the room then and we both stopped laughing. It was like he sucked the fun right out of the room. We glared back at him as he motioned us into the kitchen. “It’s time for breakfast.”

  “What’s it this time, boiled rats and sewage water? Yum,” Milo quipped underneath his breath. Father didn’t hear it, but I did, and I had to fight to contain the laughter.

  We sat around the table with the one light hanging low above us. Misty was bouncing in her chair and playing with her hair. She looked up at me and smiled. “Thanks for the story, Ayden,” she whispered across the table.

  “Anything for my girl.” Misty giggled and turned to take Mother’s hand. Mother didn’t look too good, as usual, but today she looked really under the weather. I wondered how she was feeling and if she’d been taking the vitamins Miss Bluejay’d been giving her. Every time I asked, it was only instinct for her to lie. She was getting worse and I knew it.

  “Who wants to pray?” Mother asked. Everyone sat quietly. “Okay, then I’ll pray.”

  Mother began a steady prayer I’d unfortunately managed to get stuck in my head from the age of five. Not that I understood a damn thing she was going on about, but I knew that some of the gods she mentioned were Zeus and Iris. Again, not that I knew who they were or what they did, but apparently they were important to Old Haven.

  Mother finally closed off with “amen” and Father went to dish out breakfast. “So Ayden, what’s new?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing, Mother, why do you ask?” I looked up at her and frowned at her aging skin. Her tattoos didn’t look half as great as they did years ago. The tattoos were a symbol of our lineage, the only thing worth feeling prideful for. Every child received them at the age of eleven and from there every tattoo was achieved as they all held their own meaning. Mother had several from marriage and birthing children, Milo and Misty had one, I had three, and Father had too many to count. They were all innocent markings, though. Some tattoos represented gangs or conspiracies, sometimes even cults. When one marked their body with Hell’s ink, there was no way of turning back.

  “Oh, I’m just curious. Did you hear about the Princess?” Mother draped a napkin across her lap and did the same for Misty. Her hands shook as she did it.

  “I did,” I said without pause. “It’s unfortunate, really, but what can you do?”

  Mother sighed and shook her head. Father came back with plates of bread and broth and set them on the table in front of us. At least, that’s what it looked like. Milo shoved a handful of the bread into his mouth and started to chew. He looked at me and I almost died. He took a napkin from the table and discreetly spit it out.

  “How’s it taste, Milo,” Mother asked.

  He gave her a thumbs up. “Delish.”

  The five of us at ate in silence, something we’d grown used to doing for the past three years. Misty poked around her plate with the bread and pushed the broth into a corner. Milo just didn’t eat and I, well, let’s just say I tried not to taste it.

  “So, Ayden, when do you plan on moving out of the cabin?” my father asked.

  I turned to him and sighed. “I wasn’t aware that my living there is a problem.”

  “Well, you’re a grown man now. Time to start acting like one.”

  I had barely started to eat and he was already picking a fight. “I’m working five jobs and feeding four mouths aside from my own. Don’t you think if I had the money to live elsewhere, I would?”

  He sighed and wiped the grease from his face with his sleeve. “Yeah, well I’m tired of providing for you. You’re not even around anymore.”

  “Because I’m working, constantly!” I yelled. Mother jumped and placed her hand over her heart to calm herself. Misty and Milo did what they always did, nothing. What could they say? “You don’t provide for this family, you give us hell. The only time you give a damn is when Mother isn’t well, which is all the time. Look at her!”

  “Ayden,” Mother choked out. She looked at me and shook her head. “This can be discussed later, please. Let’s just have a nice breakfast together, that’s all I ask of you boys.” Mother looked at my father across the table and I despised her display of sympathy for him.

  “Carys, it’s time you stop babying him. He does nothing!”

  “Says the drunk with debts bigger than his ego!” Anger coursed through me and I could no longer remain sitting, it left me agitated and fidgety. Father’s eyes stared back at me and his dilated pupils spoke a truth he had yet to find himself.

  “Ayden, sit down!” Mother cried out.

  “Listen to your mother, boy,” Father mocked.

  I shook my head and backed away from the table, looking him straight in the eyes. “I’m done working for you; pay your own damn debts. It’s never going to be enough with you!” I glanced at Mother and the twins. “I’m sorry.”

  I went out through the back door, spitting out the taste of the broth in the grass as I went. It was bitter, whatever it was, but not as bitter as my father’s heart. If he had one. I had nothing left to say, nothing left to do. I was done, it was time I gave up the fight and quit trying to achieve the impossible.

  In a rush to get away from the house, I went back into the cabin and to my room. I stopped at the smell of Echo and the rumpled bed sheets, but didn’t let it slow me down for long. Pushing the evoked thoughts of her out of my head, I dove through my dresser and found what I was looking for. The stash of money lay exactly where I’d put it. I didn’t dare look at it since the night of the Ball, but I couldn’t just leave it there and act like it’ll disappear. I quickly shoved it into my pockets and grabbed the picture of the little girl.

  “Where’d you get all that?”

  I turned and Milo stood by the door, his eyes on me curiously. “From a friend.”

  “That sure is a lot,” he whispered.

  I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry about that in there, okay? And this money is going to help us.” I moved past him and made my way out the door.

  “Did you steal it?” Milo asked. I didn’t answer him. “Because if you did, I understand. I would’ve, too.”

  I shook my head at him and left him in the cabin. My life had been hard from day one, and no doubt it would be until my last days. But for a second, when I looked into Echo Abbeny’s eyes, I felt free.

  F O U R T E E N

  Ayden

  The market was very much like the border that stood between Old and New Haven, just at another end. Two simple gates, yet the Warriors that stood around them guarded with their lives. This was the only place Hunters mingled freely with Warriors, and even so, we came last in everything and were watched constantly. It was a peaceful place to be, nonetheless, and I enjoyed walking around when I couldn’t get my thoughts straight, which happened quite a lot.

  I passed several fruit vendors and clothing shops, freshly baked bread and that new shoe smell permeating the air. When I passed Miss Othman’s shop, I took an alley that would lead me to Miss Bluejay’s and hoped Miss Othman wouldn’t see me. Since the day I took the money from her shop, I’d never returned. Miss Othman was so hung up on her shop and the Princess
that day that she didn’t even bother to take my name. I wasn’t complaining, though. That one simple act could have landed me in the chambers and no doubt it was stupid.

  “Ayden,” Miss Bluejay called out.

  “Why good morning to you, René Bluejay,” I said in an accent even I couldn’t place. I stopped at the window of her parlor and tipped my faux hat. This made her smile.

  “Oh, stop with your games, Grey. What can I do you for?”

  “In the mood for cherry pie? Wanted to pick something up for Mother.”

  René nodded and scribbled down the order. “How’s she doing, by the way? I meant to stop by last week, but I’ve been going through the motions, you know?”

  I nodded. One look into Miss Bluejay’s eyes and I knew, everyone did. Four months ago the King’s royal men stormed through Shadow Hills looking for a man who had supposedly forced himself on a little girl. No one knew anything about it until they saw Vincent, René’s husband, being dragged out of his own home in the middle of the night with barely any clothing on his back. All throughout the city you could hear Miss Bluejay cry, but no one dared to comfort her. How do you tell a person to believe in false hope?

  The King had placed him in the arena and he’d won the first two matches, but that’s as far as the sympathy had stretched. He was dead within two days. Only a week after, the little girl confessed Vincent hadn’t done anything to her and she’d lied to spite her mother. Even in the light of this, the King never made any intentions to apologize for his misjudgment. Of course Miss Bluejay wouldn’t have accepted it, but maybe it would have gotten her to step out of her home that first month or maybe even smile.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to her. They were the only words I could think to say without sounding pitiful or apathetic.

  She smiled, but it seemed sorrowful and forced. “No need to apologize, hon. Your pie will be ready in a minute.”

  “Thank you.” I stepped away and allowed room for her other customers. Little children ran through the grounds of the market and I just barely missed running into one of them.

 

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