by M. K. Dawn
“Please stop saying that. They used her to get to me because I was friends with her and knew I would trust her. Kakos killed her to make a point. He even took the compulsion off her before he did it. The fear in her eyes when she realized what was happening, the knife and the blood, all of those moments will haunt me forever.”
“I'm so sorry you had to go through that.” I kiss her on the head, trying to comfort her. “But that still doesn't make it your fault.”
She moves back slightly. “I don't want people dying for me.”
“I know you don’t.” I pull her back into me. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Promise?” She snuggles closer and shuts her eyes.
Gods know, I want to make that promise, but the words refuse to leave my lips, like they know that the horrors of yesterday are just the beginning of what is yet to come.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alaina
“I can't take these close quarters for much longer,” Ana mumbles, as we wait in line to grab breakfast. “Six days on the move and having to sleep in a room full of people is enough to drive a sane person to the brink of madness. Gods, I hope we’re getting close.”
It has been a long week, but I know that it’s about to come to an end. As of today, we’re one day away from Henry’s castle and after breakfast, the announcement will be made that we’ll be going on foot from here. Naturally, this is privileged information, only shared between myself, the warriors, Henry, and his guards. We were all sworn to secrecy, bound by an enchantment placed upon us that forbids us to speak of the contents of our meetings to anyone outside our small group.
“You know something, don't you?” Ana questions.
“Even if I did, you know I can’t say anything. We still are no closer to finding the traitor as we were a week ago. Everyone that Henry’s barbarians interrogated came up clean. I’m still hoping it was someone outside of camp. Maybe Charlotte wandered beyond the borders and was compulsed there.” I ponder this thought out loud, as I have done every day for the past six days with anyone who would listen. I still didn't want to believe that someone close to me would have done such a thing.
“I don't know, Alaina.” Ana grabs a plate, loading it with a ton of fruit and an egg-white omelet. “It doesn't seem very likely. I mean, why would she go out there alone? She knew what dangers could be lurking. It seems very unlike her to do something so risky; having little Alaina to think about.”
The sound of the child’s name tugs at my heart. With communications turned off, I haven’t been able to contact them. I need to know they’re safe and want to tell them how sorry I am for their loss.
“Hey, did you hear me?”
“No, sorry. What did you say?” I fill my plate with bacon, eggs, and toast. Then grab a few pieces of fruit so Ana doesn't scowl at me like she does every day when I choose my food.
“I said, you need to stop looking for other ways Charlotte was compulsed and come to terms that there is a traitor in camp. Your life depends on it. If you end up alone with the wrong person…”
“I know, I know.” We head back to our cots, our plates full of food. All the tables had been left behind so the beds could fit.
“I'm also sick of eating while performing a balancing act,” Ana grumbles, as she places her plate on her knees, then adds, “We just want you to stay safe.”
“I know you all do. And I know I’ve been driving everyone crazy with my conspiracy theories. I just don’t want to believe that someone close to me is trying to get me killed.”
Ana’s eyes dart around, then she leans in, lowering her voice. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod.
“I could be hung for this, but I'm going to say it anyway. Do you think that it could be Henry and his guards?”
“I'm not going to lie; the thought has crossed my mind more than once. But it doesn't make sense. If he did betray us - had me killed - he would never become king, never rule Nysa, which we all know is his ultimate desire.”
“True. Still, there’s something off about him, right? Or is it just me?”
“It's not just you. He is a total douchebag, conceited, pompous… Need I go on, because I can?”
She laughs. “I think you’ve made your point.”
“He’s harmless. Power hungry, but that power stems from marrying me. I can't image him giving that up for Wright.”
“You're probably right. It was just speculation, grasping at straws.” There is an uneasiness to her voice. “I just want the bastard caught so we can feel safe again.”
“I know what you mean.” I stuff a bite of food in my mouth, less hungry than I was before. Everyone has been on edge since my run-in with Kakos. The only reason I feel somewhat safe these days is because of the man who sleeps in the bed next to me. As my head warrior, my safety is Brady’s top priority, and without an orb, he is unable to scout out new campsites without using someone else to transport. So, he was the logical choice as my permanent bodyguard. Henry protested, but I insisted. After all, I was in charge of my safety, not him.
We continue to eat in silence, Ana staring at the warriors huddled in the corner, me keeping a close eye on the door. I expect Brady to walk in any minute now and announce the next step in operation: ‘get back to the castle as quickly as possible.’ I didn't attend the daily meeting this morning like I have every other morning this week, so I could get a little more sleep before we headed off on foot. Now I’m thinking that may have been a mistake because waiting for the news is driving me crazy.
“Why do you keep watching the door like that?” Ana asks.
“Why are you staring at the warriors like that?” I snap back.
“No reason.” She blushes.
“Wouldn't be because a certain warrior is over there?”
Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. “Oh, Gods. You don't think Brady knows?”
“I don't…”
“Attention!” Brady’s voice booms over the commotion. The room falls silent in a matter of seconds. “In one hour, we will be leaving camp and continuing the final leg of our journey on foot. Only take what you can carry. The kitchen will be passing out to each person food for the remainder of the journey, which you will be required to carry. We will not stop until we reach Prince Henry’s castle. Scouts, led by Eric, have already been sent ahead of the group, to ensure that the path is clear. Please be mindful of your surroundings. Keep your voice low and your footsteps light. The terrain will be treacherous at times. Soldiers will flank the civilians. If you need help, don't hesitate to ask one of them. We want everyone to arrive unharmed. Any questions?” The room stays silent. “Good. One hour, then we head out.”
***
An hour into the journey, sweat started beading down my back. Four hours in, my feet began to ache. At the ten-hour mark, I was so exhausted I could barely keep up with the group. My body screamed at me to stop, but I forced myself to keep going.
We had only made one stop so far and that was a quick five minutes to use the bathroom. We ate and drank as we walked. Conversations were kept at a minimum. Brady stayed no more than ten feet away from me at any given moment. He was worried, though he never said it. His jaw stayed clenched, his muscles rigid. He stayed on constant alert, at least one hand lingering close to his thigh daggers at all times. We had barely spoken to each other, he asking a few times if I was doing okay. Me responding yes. But it was to be expected. We didn't want to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves. The closer we got to Henry’s castle, the greater the chances of running into Wright’s men.
I look to the sky and notice how quick the light is fading. We have been walking for what I can only guess to be close to twelve hours, as we left around eight this morning, and I have no clue how long we have left. My feet are numb but my body moves forward out of sheer repetition more than anything else. As the wind picks up, the air cools and I catch a whiff of the familiar smell of salt and grass, though my exhausted body can't place it.
Leaning into Brady, I whisper. “Where are we? What am I smelling?”
“We are coming up to the ocean’s edge of Henry’s kingdom. We’re taking a secret passage through the cliff that we don't believe Wright knows about. And even if he does, it’s the last place he would expect us to go. The stairs leading to the entrance are steep and dangerous. But we agreed, it's our best chance at getting there unnoticed.”
Yes, the ocean; that’s what I’m smelling. My favorite place in the world. “How long until we get there?”
He points ahead and I see it; a clearing about a hundred yards in front of us. The sun has set but as we approach the beach, the moon's reflection off the ocean lights up the night sky. A damp wind picks up as we cross the canopy of the forest and make our way onto the beach. The hypnotic sound of crashing waves relaxes my body and eases my mind. As we make our way down the sand, my eyes never leave the crystal-clear blue water. As the waves crash on the shore, it mimics the starry sky, as if millions of twinkling lights have been thrown into the water.
“What makes it do that?” I ask Brady, pointing to the water.
“Tiny little organisms reacting to the moonlight.”
“It's stunning. I have never seen anything like it.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Come on. There will be plenty of time to admire the scenery later. Right now, let's get you inside the boundaries of Henry’s castle, where you’ll be safe.”
I focus my attention on the cliff, noticing the people who have started to ascend its vertical exterior, the ones halfway up disappearing into the massive formation. That is most definitely Henry’s group. He left before anyone else this morning, bitching the whole time, making it quite clear that my safety was not above his personal comfort. Not that I minded. I had no desire to spend twelve hours listening to him complaining non-stop.
As we approach the cliff, two things are obvious. One, it's at least a thousand feet high. Two, I’m going to hate every second of the climb up.
I coerce myself not to think about the height aspect and think about something else. “The stairs and doorway are not even noticeable from here.”
“As it was designed,” Brady says. “You would either have to know it’s here or been told how to find it. It’s very well protected.”
We arrive at the bottom of the stair and I understand what he’s talking about. It’s a mirage of sorts. You turn one way and the stairs appear. You turn another and they aren’t visible. “How is this possible?”
Brady laughs. “They were created by a very talented sculptor. Now the tricky part is climbing up them. If you lose your focus, you will find yourself unable to see the next step.”
“Oh Gods,” I moan.
Brady smiles and takes my hand. “Come on, follow me. Nick will be right behind you.”
Out of everyone, he has been the least chatty on our way here. I don't think I’ve heard two words leave his lips the whole time. My guess is he’s worried about Shae. She left before us with the group Ana was leading. I had been placed in the second to last group. With a group of soldiers in front and behind us, four warriors, Clint and Bo along with Brady and Nick, who were to be at my side the whole time.
I turn around and give him a little smile as we make our way up the very steep and narrow staircase. “I'm sure she’s fine.”
“What?” Nick asks, his voice edgy.
“Shae. She would have made it to the castle by now, all safe and sound. You seem worried.” I clarify, not taking my eyes off the stairway.
“Yeah, I know. But she isn't the one I'm worried about.”
“Nick.” Brady gives him a warning tone.
I don't understand. We are almost there. “What am I missing?”
“Come on, Brady. It's all been a little too easy, don't you think?” Nick continues, ignoring Brady’s earlier interjection. “Not one scout, not one sign of Wright. They knew we would be heading straight for here after Alaina was attacked. We’ve known for months that they swarm the woods surrounding his castle. We’ve been preparing for a massive fight just to get her here. And now nothing. I don't like it.”
“Maybe we got lucky,” Brady suggests.
“We aren't that damn lucky,” Clint counters.
“So, what, now we’re going to get worked up when bad things don't happen?” Brady implores.
“I think it’s something we need to be aware of, that's all I'm saying,” Nick says.
“Agreed,” Bo and Clint say in unison. I want to laugh, but the seriousness in all their eyes tells me this isn't the time.
“Fine. It's been noted,” Brady sighs. “After you, Princess.”
“What?” I look down the mouth of the secret tunnel.
“Welcome to Henry’s castle.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alaina
Seven days after arriving at Henry’s castle, I find myself staring out the window, longing for this day - the day I am to be crowned queen - to be over already. A week spent in meetings has taken its toll. I’ve learned enough about war strategies in the last few days to last me a lifetime.
Not to mention the countless discussions about who the traitor was from camp. The common consensus is that it was indeed Charlotte, working under a compulsion spell.
When was it placed? No one seems to know. Who did it? Again, no one has a fucking clue. But she’s the one who led me to Kakos and his men. So, in almost everyone’s mind, that is all the proof they need. That and the fact we haven’t been attacked since her death. Yep, everyone believes that it was Charlotte, everyone except for Brady, myself, and the warriors.
Brady keeps reminding them that they thought a traitor was in the camp before Charlotte and her family had even arrived. My Gods, we heard Wright’s men confirm it right before they released the seeker. But nobody wants to hear it. They claim to have more important things to worry about. Like, Kakos.
Or, more accurately, the lack of Kakos. We have no idea where he is. In fact, we have no idea where any of Wright’s men are. They seemed to have gone into hiding and no one can tell us why. Everyone expected some big fight on the path while getting me here, but nothing happened. So then they began to prepare for an attack on the castle. But all the preparation has been for nothing. Everything has been quiet. So quiet, in fact, that the whole castle is on edge.
Me especially. I walk around in a constant state of nervousness, expecting Kakos to jump out of the shadows at any second. My last encounter with him is forever burned into my mind. Every night I see his face in my dreams. I hear his voice. I see the knife being dragged along Charlotte’s throat. Then there’s the blood. And the pain.
So much pain.
It doesn’t help that I’ve been surrounded by a countless number of people, all who want to do anything and everything to please me. It’s exhausting. I’ve been asked my opinion on a thousand different things, all of which I know nothing about. The crazy, and most annoying, thing has been that no one will contradict me.
Two days ago, when asked what I would like served for dinner after the ceremony, I jokingly told the chef chicken nuggets with mac and cheese. His eyes widened in shock, but again, no one argued with me. At least, not openly. Eric, who has been by my side all week, gave me the evil eye and called the chef back before he had the chance to dart off, explaining to him that I was joking. He then requested a menu filled with fancy foods, much to the chef’s relief.
With my head on the window, I watch as a menacing storm hovering over the ocean continues to gain strength. What a shame, the day started off so beautiful that I almost started to believe that everything was going to be okay. But then out of nowhere, the sky grew dark and with it, so did my mood. I don't know what it is about this storm, but for some reason it sends chills down my spine.
At breakfast the servers spoke of the storm as if it were a direct warning from Poseidon, God of the Sea, himself. That he must be angry to conjure up such a menacing storm; a storm like that, they said, carries with it unspeakable evil. I wanted
to laugh it off, but I fear they may be onto something.
I drag my attention away from the storm and notice my gown has been laid out on the bed, though I didn't hear anyone come in. I run my fingers over the pale pink silk and sparkling white lace trim. It’s extraordinary; hand-stitched, no doubt. Perfect for a queen.
Henry informed me over dinner that this gown has been locked away and guarded for the past eight years in anticipation of my impending coronation. It’s one of the few things saved from Lord Wright’s attack. My mother's wedding gown, worn by her when she too became the queen.
I hold it against my body and face the mirror. I had hoped that being here and seeing this dress, I would at least start feeling like the queen I was about to become, but I don't. Eric assures me that when I’m crowned and my memories are returned things will be better, I will be better, but I don't share in his confidence. There is a nagging feeling deep down in my soul that keeps me thinking none of this is right. When I brought my concerns up to Eric, he brushed them off as nerves, but I can tell from the look in his eyes that there is more going on that he is not telling me.
I lay the dress down and look up at the painting of my mother, which hangs on the wall opposite of my bed. I feel no hint of recognition, no warmth or love as I stare into her eyes, which I find odd because I know that I was loved as a child. I feel it in every part of me. I have always felt it. It’s embedded deep in my heart as only unconditional love can be. So why doesn't an image of the woman who gave me such love spark any kind of emotion?
With a heavy sigh, I wrap my hands around my orb, like I did as a small child and fight back the tears welling up in my eyes. This is not the time to cry, I tell myself, like I have told myself every night this week.
Suddenly, my door swings open. “Son of a bitch,” I swear under my breath, as Ella and Gia, the two girls who Henry declared upon my arrival as my handmaids come rushing through the door.