Personal Warriors

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Personal Warriors Page 36

by Rachel A. Collett


  He selected a page from his folder then lightly tossed it away. It fluttered to the table top in front of me and I froze.

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  “There’s your paperwork.” He smiled. “Now that we both know each other you can stop the charade, your highness.”

  I licked my dry lips. “My Lord, please,”

  “Princess Ilianna, the only daughter to King Johan. You have been offered as a mate to my brother, which is why he sent us this lovely depiction of you to persuade him into matrimony, as well as lists describing your many attributes. I must say I was impressed to hear you are such a fine dancer on top of being a fearless warrior.”

  My face flushed an even deeper shade of red. It took everything I had not to grab the papers from his hands.

  “Despite the months of grime your likeness is uncanny,” he said, gesturing to the picture.

  My mouth clamped shut with an audible click.

  A smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “If you wanted the crown so badly, did you really think encroaching upon our dungeons would gain my brother’s attention?”

  Rage infused my tone. “How dare you—”

  “Or were you going for pity with this look?” His gazed lowered to my clenched fists.

  I gave up all pretenses, realizing they were useless. “I didn’t want any attention at all, your highness.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “I didn’t come to your kingdom to stay, but to pass through. It was your men that stopped me.”

  He closed the file with a snap. The hard lines of his face deepened as he regarded me. “Passage between our two kingdoms has been forbidden for many years, princess, due to the wars fought against your uncle to keep our lands safe from his greed.”

  The muscles between my brows pinched, but I kept my voice as even as possible. “The war is over. Peace has been established. Our roads should be reopened to allow safe passage.”

  He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the top of his desk. “Did Johan tell you that? Neither kingdom has seen peace since before the demon wars, over twenty years ago. Treaties have only just begun. Your uncle’s offering of his only blood relation was a way of beginning that treaty.”

  “I—” I couldn’t form the appropriate sentence. “I was not aware of any offering…” At least any offer that had been made. As far as I knew, he had only just mentioned the idea to me the day of my escape and was the very reason I had fled my kingdom, but I would never have run toward a country we still were at war with. It made no sense.

  “And why would you want to leave your country?” the prince pressed.

  I swallowed. “My reasons are my own.” Phantom pain slid through the burn at my neck, touching upon the others that would stay unseen.

  “They must not have been that important. You barely put up a fight. Only an ear was lost before you gave up. That’s nothing for you.”

  Tired of this interrogation, I slid on a fake smile. It was the face I displayed when necessary. A mask to hide what lay beneath. “I didn’t want to be recognized.”

  “That’s right. Because the demon daughter of the Dark Destroyer would be recognized within my kingdom. How old were you when you started fighting for king and country? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

  I was twelve, not that I would tell him.

  He continued. “Your name is one of legends.”

  “Legends can be deceiving, and I do not own that ridiculous title.” Or at least I didn’t want that title. I didn’t want any of it. “Surely you must know there is no such person. Just stories spread to incite fear among the enemy.”

  “Stories spawn from somewhere, princess.” He threw down another piece of paper. A sketch. And I froze.

  “And as you see, not everyone who has seen your face has died. This was created by someone who saw you, face to face and lived to tell the tale.” He smiled, wickedly exposing a perfect set of white teeth. “Not as good as your uncle’s artist, but close enough.”

  I glared, my mind spinning an escape through a castle I did not know. The prince’s gaze did not flinch.

  “This whole time you’ve been here, you have not stated who you are, tried to reach out to your uncle, or made any attempt to flee.”

  “Your cells are incredibly cushy.”

  He ignored my flippant reply. “Why?”

  I turned away with a lift of my chin, unwilling to tell him, to expose myself any further.

  With a sigh, the prince sat down in his chair. He leaned back, placing his hands behind his head. “When my father was alive, he made several attempts toward peace negotiations, but Johan resisted and continued in his campaign against us. Why now does he send you as an offering? Why now do we find our prison cells holding a silent princess? What treachery does your king plan?”

  Why indeed. If I had an answer to that question, I wouldn’t be sitting across from a scheming magician.

  He waited, seconds that felt like hours. “In the king’s attached letter, it speaks of a woman well versed in literature and who loves to recite poetry. Will you not speak so I can continue hearing your lovely voice?”

  Humiliation grew to anger. Pride pricked at the back of my eyes. “What answer could I give that you would believe? It’s clear you do not trust me, and I have no reason to trust you. I have no answers for your highness.”

  “Then you agree, we are at an impasse?” When I again didn’t answer, he gathered my uncle’s sketch and tucked it away in his folder. “At one time, we would have no difficulty hanging you for the crimes you’ve committed against my people—”

  “What crimes have I committed? We were at war.”

  “—but now that Johan declares a desire for this so-called peace, I have no choice but to send word to your King that you are here.”

  I shot to my feet. The blood ran from my face. “No!”

  About the Author

  Rachel Collett is a genuine Jill-of-all-trades. Born in Mesa, Arizona, she was never satisfied with staying in one place, working in one profession, or even pursuing one degree at a time. As a student for life, Rachel has loved learning in a multitude of disciplines, but in 2009, writing became her true passion.

  Personal Demons is a drum of action partially spawned from Rachel’s real life experiences, including military service, Survival (SERE) Training, years of martial arts, and living in a haunted house. Rachel still resides in Mesa, Arizona with her husband and two children.

  Photo credit: Elisha J. Schabel with Elle J. Photography

  Also by Rachel A. Collett

  Personal Demons

  Personal Guardians

 

 

 


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