by Emma Hamm
She touched a hand to her throat, still sore. The bruises were hidden beneath a thick layer of makeup, but they were just as real. Something had choked her, tried to kill her out in the meadow.
Did that mean it was a monster who had done so? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps her mother and she shared the same hallucinations, and it had been a rival soldier from another country. A memory she spun from reality too harsh to admit.
However, she would know if another country was encroaching on their borders. Her father would have told her to watch out for any neighboring colors or banners. And the creature hadn’t been wearing any armor. Her mind couldn’t have changed that much, could it?
A hand slammed down on the desk in front of her. The sound banged through her mind, slapping the thoughts out of the way and forcing her to focus.
“Your father hired me to teach you,” her tutor snarled. “How am I supposed to teach an insolent little girl who won’t listen?”
“I’m listening.”
“No, you are not.” He removed his hand, but not before she noticed the dirt caked beneath his nails.
Danielle leaned back in her chair. “My mother was the greatest queen this land has ever seen. She stopped wars with her kindness and showed our people the pen was far mightier than the sword. If she hadn’t lost her mind so early in her life, it’s believed she would have united all the kingdoms in Ember under one banner.”
She knew the speech. So many tutors had given her the same one, as though this was now her destiny to destroy other kingdoms. To absorb them into Hollow Hill like they weren’t good enough unless they were part of a whole.
Not once had Danielle ever believed such drivel. Other kingdoms were managing quite well without Hollow Hill being involved. She didn’t want to start a war which would only end in her kingdom being destroyed.
The tutor sniffed, looking down his long nose at her. “And?”
She had heard nothing else, but she also hadn’t been listening. Uncrossing one of her arms, she lifted a single finger. “Trick question. You said nothing else.”
The wild guess was apparently the right one, since her tutor whirled on his heel and stalked toward a bookshelf. “I’ve little need to deal with such insolence today!”
“You already used that word to describe me, tutor. Surely you have something more original for the second insult.”
“Insult?” He reached up, grabbed a book from the shelf, and then threw it at her. The thick vellum hit the desk with a solid thump, pages flipping open and nearly spilling out onto her feet with the force. “If I wanted to insult you, there are many words to use, princess.”
“Your Highness.” She closed the book. “You will address me as Your Highness, no matter how angry you are. Or should I tell my father the newest tutor doesn’t know how to address the woman who shall one day become his queen?”
To his credit, the tutor didn’t pale like all the others had when she threatened them. Instead, he straightened his collar. “Your Highness, forgive me. I forgot your title in my anger.”
“See that it doesn’t happen again.”
“The book in front of you is the history of your kingdom. I expect you to complete reading it by the next time we see each other.”
She turned the book onto its side, measuring the thickness which was almost the same length as her thumb. It was impossible to read in the few days before she saw him again. He was giving her a task he thought would be punishing.
Unfortunately for him, she had already read this book. And every other one in the library.
Shrugging, Danielle tried to look nonchalant. “I look forward to our conversation, tutor.”
If possible, his nostrils flared even wider. Letting out a huffing, angry breath, he stalked toward the door. As a parting shot, he threw his last words over his shoulder. “Don’t let your father see you slumping like some country bumpkin. Straighten your shoulders, princess.”
The door slammed shut behind him. She snarled at the solid wood.
One of these days, she would be done with tutors and she wouldn’t have to listen to their ridiculous pandering. She knew her own kingdom’s history. They were her family, for gods’ sakes! Danielle still lived with them, and she hadn’t been sent away for school as so many princesses had.
And to throw her father in her face? No, he wouldn’t like to see her slouching, but he didn’t like to see her at all. So why would she waste any time worrying about him?
Making sure there were no guards left in the library, she tipped her chair back onto two legs and crossed her arms over her chest. Danielle had never been the princess who wanted to float through a crowd of people and have them ooo and aww. She wanted to be the one who they knew would protect them in their hour of need. The one who rode into battles without a second thought.
Her father thought such a dream was foolish. The kingdom didn’t need a warrior queen. They needed one like her mother, the one with the pen and the pretty words.
She didn’t have pretty words. She had a stolen sword.
As the thought passed through her mind, a cold chill moved through her body. She let the chair fall with an echoing thump.
The sword.
She had brought a sword into the meadow, one she had stolen from the barracks. The barracks who counted their weapons on a weekly basis to make sure no one was stealing from the castle.
If she didn’t bring the weapon back, someone would realize it was missing. And though she liked to think her family wouldn’t blame her, she had a feeling they might.
The king wasn’t a fool. He knew she was sneaking out of the castle into the forests, that was why he had sent guards to find her. He would put two and two together, and then she would be locked in her room until she rotted. Or until he found her a husband who didn’t mind a petulant wife.
“Damn it,” she muttered.
How was she going to get out of the castle? Guards followed her every move when she was here, not to mention she wasn’t dressed for such a feat. The thick skirts around her waist would impede any movements. And the corset would make riding a horse difficult unless she wanted to casually walk out of the palace.
Danielle focused on the door again, calling out to her personal guard who she knew was lingering beyond, listening for when he needed to come in. “Harris?”
The door creaked open and the guard in question stuck his head through the doorway. “Yes, Your Highness?”
At least he knew how to address her. She held up the book her tutor had given her. “He wants me to read this entire thing in two days.”
The guard shrugged. “And?”
“And I’m complaining!” She tossed the book back onto the desk and whined. “I will be in here all day if I have to read this. Can’t you just… read it for me?”
“Princess, you are here to learn. If I have one of the men read it for you, then they’re the ones learning.”
“You could always just tell me what happened. I need only a few talking points before the tutor believes I read it.”
Although predictable, Harris was the most honorable man she had ever met. His brows drew down tighter with every word slipping from her tongue. All she needed was to seal the deal, and he would lock her in the palace until supper time.
Danielle watched him struggle to find words.
He cleared his throat. “You should learn on your own.”
“But I don’t want to, and I’m the princess. Can I not order you or your men to do this for me?”
“You can, but I will deliver the news to your father.”
She tsked. “My father? He doesn’t care what I do. Read the book for me, Harris. And I will go out to the stables. I believe there is a new stallion I can ride.”
There it was. The threat of hurting herself.
A muscle in his jaw jumped and Harris closed his fist so tightly on the door she thought he might bend the wood. “You will read the book, and if you order any of my men to let you out of this room, then I will know it, Princess. Y
our father will hear if you try to do anything you are not supposed to do.”
He slammed the door shut behind him. She heard the solid sound of a lock clicking into place.
“Perfect,” she whispered.
Danielle counted to ten underneath her breath, giving Harris enough time to get away from the door and start complaining to his soldiers. They wouldn’t hear her when she opened the creaking window.
She strode over to the wall of glass panes in the library. Only one of them opened. A previous tutor liked to sit with the wind on his face, although he had warned her to tell no one else the window opened. The king didn’t want her to know.
Her father knew she would use any opportunity to escape.
Danielle reached down and ripped the first layer off her skirts. The thick brocade would be a perfect base for a rope. It wouldn’t rip, unlike the last layers of chiffon she’d have to double up.
As she twisted the skirts together, she stared down the three stories to the ground. A contingent of guards circled the castle in intervals. She would have to choose the right moment to slip out the window, down to the ground, and then somehow hide the skirts.
She finished tying the last knot and tangled it on a metal shelf below the window. Watching the guards round the corner of the castle, Danielle took her chance. She swung a leg over the window, prayed her knots held, and started her descent.
Surprisingly, the skirts didn’t even creak. In fact, it only took a few heartbeats before the soles of her shoes hit the ground with a satisfying crunch.
She glanced around to make sure no one saw, then looked back up at the window. The yellow skirts blew in the wind. Far too easy for anyone to notice.
With a swift jerk, she whipped the skirts in a rippling wave. The movement should have jostled the skirts from their hook. It took four times and heart racing panic until they finally slithered down the side of the palace.
Danielle caught them in her arms, then ducked behind the hedges. She waited for the guards to make their rounds once again, counting to twenty in her head before she heard them complaining.
“Did you hear?” The one in front asked, his helmet slightly too big for his head. “The princess has been sneaking out again.”
One of the other six chuckled. His armor didn’t fit well either, but only because his muscles were so large. “Not surprised. She doesn’t like to be caught inside too long.”
“Neither do I.”
“Maybe you should talk to her then! I heard she liked to kiss guards in the stables, once upon a time.” The beefy guard made kissing sounds as they rounded the other side of the palace.
Danielle ground her teeth in frustration. As if she would ever kiss one of those idiotic meatheads. She wasn’t interested in a guard unless he had a brain between his eyes. Clearly, neither of those two did.
She reached behind her and tore the corset open. Clasps snapped at her swift jerk, and eyelets hit the side of the palace with soft pings. Left in nothing more than her petticoats and a single skirt, she raced across the palace grounds toward the stables.
Everyone should be in the training yards, only the better behaved horses would be left in the stables. And she knew the perfect trail leading behind the palace, the one all the servants used on their way home.
Before she chose her horse, she stole a cloak from the hooks where all the stable boys hung them.
It was time to get that sword back. No matter what waited for her in the meadow.
Chapter 5
She much preferred walking to the meadow than she did riding a horse. The beast kept skittering to the side, eyes wide and staring into the forest as though something were following them. Danielle peered through the murky shadows, but could see nothing past the lines of trees.
Golden light speared through the forest and tiny dust motes floated in the air. They looked like orbs of fairy lights dancing in the distance. Birdsong drifted upon the wind, and if they were still singing, then nothing bad lurked beyond them.
She loved it here. Every inch of the forest fed her soul. The wildness of the unknown. The freedom of animals skittering through their homes, preparing for the upcoming summer where they would find their mates and begin new families.
When she was a child, she used to run through the mossy undergrowth and tell her mother she was one of them. A beastie girl. One born to have sticks in her hair, moss growing atop her shoulders, and butterflies at her fingertips.
It was a shame her father had put a stop to all that.
Finally, her horse made it to the meadow. Danielle swung her leg up and over the beast’s back, then landed in the kneehigh grass.
A breeze made the long stalks dance and become an undulating sea of verdant green, lovely and ever moving. The trees in the distance were finally unfurling their leaves from the red buds of spring. Her shoulders grew warm as the sun danced upon them, trickling down her arms and kissing her skin with heat.
For a moment, Danielle tilted her head back and let herself relax for the first time since returning to the palace. Closed windows made her feel trapped. Candle smoke made her lungs hurt.
If she could have chosen any life, it would have been out in the wilds. She would have joined the beasts in the forests and run free.
No throne.
No crown.
Just Danielle.
Sighing, she opened her eyes and strode toward the brook. The sword must be hidden in the grass, which no longer showed her footprints.
She found the place where the beast had tackled her first. The long blades were still tamped down where her weight had flattened them. They’d left a perfect outline of her body with monstrous holes on either side where the creature’s knees had been.
So the beast was real. She hadn’t imagined it. Or she hadn’t imagined being attacked.
Bending down, Danielle touched her fingers to the deep furrows where he’d knelt. She slid her fingers and gaze to the right where she could touch another furrow, this one long and thin.
The furrow where his wings had indented the soil.
Goosebumps raised on her arms and her heart skipped a beat. She knew madness ran in her blood. The same madness which had taken her mother away from her and perhaps had given them the same vision of beasts.
A man had attacked her. Perhaps he was a neighboring soldier, or just a disgruntled peasant. Not some winged demon who had crawled out of the ground.
She stood abruptly. Dirt smeared her fingers and when she scrubbed her face, she could smell the earthy scent. She couldn’t have imagined the beast. He had hurt her. She still had the marks around her neck.
No, she told herself. She was stronger than this. Madness would not take her.
With a deep breath, she turned in a slow circle, trying to remember where she had dropped her sword. It had to be around this area, although she hadn’t been thinking when she had walked toward the river.
Two paces forward? How many steps had she taken to get a drink?
Danielle tried to walk in her own footsteps when she saw the glint of metal. The sword wasn’t even close to where she had been practicing that day.
She stared at the weapon propped on the backside of a boulder, almost hidden from view. She could only see the plain hilt gleaming in the sunlight. Leather wrapped around the handle made it easier to hold for long amounts of time, but even that looked… cleaner. Oiled.
Swallowing hard with unease, she took a few steps toward the sword. Every step felt as though she were walking toward something important. Something that would change her life forever.
When she was two steps away, all birdsong stopped. Even the wind silenced. The meadow held its breath with her as she approached the sword which was so easily placed for her to find.
She leaned over the stone. Danielle reached her hand for the hilt, but a whisper made her pause. It almost sounded like the scraping of claws on dirt.
There was nothing but squirrels and a few wolves in the forest. She knew better than to allow foolish fear to
make her heart thud in her chest.
But she looked over the stone and down, because she knew where the sound had come from.
Beyond the boulder, a deep hole tunneled into the ground. So deep it was nothing more than an abyss of blackness.
Within that gloom, two eyes glowed. They reflected green as the sunlight hit them. Inhuman eyes stared back at her; the eyes of a monster.
Gasping, she gripped the hilt of her sword and pulled. She held the sword aloft, although she didn’t know what good it would do her. She had fought the same beast before.
And lost.
Danielle stumbled back into the meadow as the scrabbling sound continued. This time, it mixed with the slithering rasp of leathery wings scraping against tunnel walls.
Ragged breaths sawed through her lungs. Her palms slicked with sweat because she knew she was about to see the demon again. The one who had tried to kill her and returned to finish the deed.
No one knew she was in the meadow. The guards still thought she was in her library being a good little princess. They wouldn’t even think to search for her yet.
By the time anyone in Hollow Hill realized their errant princess had escaped, she would be long dead. Pieces tossed in every corner of the meadow.
She let out a soft cry as the creature dragged itself out of the ground. Pale and grey, it looked like a monster from legends. The kind of beast who had destroyed armies before.
She had not made up a single detail of her memory, it seemed. He was larger than life. Taller than her by at least three heads, with wings wider than her horse was long. Wind whistled in the holes of his wings, a terrible song. A dirge of her own funeral as he stepped forward into the light.
A tattoo stretched over his face. Markings from long ago that had faded but were still slightly visible. Lines from his forehead, drawing to his nose like war paint. Cracks split through his skin around the horns, but they didn’t look like wounds. They were fissures in the stone of his body.