Emerald Rose

by Emma Hamm

  The cracked horn made her shiver, although she didn’t know why. Such a wound must have been painful, perhaps even pained him now. But how had it happened? How could a creature like this have lost something so important?

  He stepped forward again and it sounded like the creaking of trees. Thunderous and terrifying in a storm that rocked through her very soul.

  “Stop,” she croaked, lifting her sword higher. “Take no more steps, beast.”

  His horns glinted in the light, and she saw they had once been tipped in silver. The fully formed horn still had the sharpened edge, like a blade.

  The sword shivered in her grip. Danielle widened her stance, firmed her grasp, and told herself to be brave. She had always wanted to be a warrior, and if it attacked her, then she would fight.

  “I said, no further,” she snarled.

  Again, the beast took a step closer. Its legs were bent at the wrong angle. Or perhaps it had an extra bend humans didn’t have. The beast appeared to walk on tip toes, ankles bent backward and knees bent forward.

  The sight made her stomach seize, threatening to throw up her breakfast of croissant and fresh fruit.

  But then, it looked at her and opened its mouth. Fangs poked up from its lips and she knew those were her death. It was going to tear her throat open with its horrible teeth.

  Except, it didn’t. Instead, the beast spoke. “Or what, little princess?”

  Her muscles locked in place. Her heart stopped beating and her lungs squeezed tight.

  The beast could speak.

  She lost her grip on the sword. The tip tilted toward the ground before she pointed it at his heart once again. All she could think was that she really had gone mad. A beast couldn’t speak. It couldn’t even think.

  And yet, now she heard its voice. Deafening in tone, rumbling with words that should only have come from human lips.

  She took another step back, shoulders dropping in fear. “You can speak?”

  He lifted a hand and pressed it to his chest. “Indeed, I can.”

  “And you know I’m…” She didn’t want to say the word ‘princess’. That would be admitting she was important to the kingdom, and perhaps it was a pet name he’d given her.

  A pet name. She already thought as though he knew what that was. As though he wasn’t an animal or monster that lived deep in the ground.

  Danielle shook her head. “No. This is all in my head. You aren’t real.”

  “I can assure you, I am very much real.” The creature dropped the hand from his chest and reached his hand forward. “Or do you not remember the feel of my claws around your throat?”

  “You attacked me,” she growled. Danielle gripped the sword, strong and sure. She took a step closer to him, deadly point raised. “I should kill you for that.”

  “You couldn’t if you tried, little girl. I am one of the Dread.”

  “The Dread?” The question slipped between her lips before she could catch it.

  He grinned, but it was a hungry expression. “You really are little more than a child.”

  She gritted her teeth. She was to be queen someday. No one could judge her based on age alone. “I’m more than that.”

  “And yet, if I wanted to kill you in the stream, I could have.”

  “You’re larger than me. You took me by surprise.”

  He spread his wings wider as if to make a point. Their great, leathery length made her shiver in fear. “A true warrior is never taken by surprise.”

  If that was how he wanted it, then she would show him what a true warrior could do. Danielle lunged forward with a sharp yell. She’d seen the soldiers attack like this in the training grounds. They were swift and sure in their movements, and she was the same.

  A warrior at heart. She could kill anyone who meant to harm her, and she would prove to this monster that she could.

  But when her sword should have sank into his breast, it fell through open air. The power she’d put behind the swing only knocked her off balance. She fell onto one knee and realized he had sidestepped her at the last second. Because of his larger stride, she now knelt at his feet.

  Supplicant. She bowed before him as no princess of any realm should ever have bowed.

  She sucked in a long breath, then slowly looked up at him. The sword remained at her side, tip buried in the earth. Though it took every bit of her concentration, she released her grip on the blade.

  “Ah,” the Dread muttered. “You look so lovely on your knees.”

  Fire burned in her chest and made her throat feel raw. She glared up at him. “Kill me if you must, beast. But don’t mistake this for anything other than an animal using brute strength to best a woman.”

  The creature knelt. Twin shadows passed over her face cast by his horns, one long, the other short and jagged. He cupped a clawed hand around her jaw, ghosting his thumb over her neck. “Oh but princess, I didn’t have to touch you this time.”

  Danielle couldn’t stand the pitying look, nor the truth vibrating through his words. She didn’t think. She acted.

  Her hand lifted on its own accord and slapped his wrist, shoving him away. In the split second between that moment and the next, she realized her error.

  The smooth expression on his stony face cracked into something dark and angered. His hand came back, whipping through the air before she could stop it. His fingers closed around her throat, squeezed until her breath could not wheeze out, then he dragged her close to him.

  “Careful, princess,” he growled. “I can be kind, or I can be cruel. Which would you prefer?”

  Using the last of her breath, she hissed, “Neither. Begone, beast.”

  She expected him to snap her neck. Instead, he chuckled and released her from his hold.

  Danielle dropped to the ground, rubbing her aching neck where more bruises would kiss her skin. She gulped in lungfuls of air and yet, none of them were enough. She needed far more, as though she could never get enough air again.

  The Dread stood and took a few steps away. “I will teach you how to fight.”

  The words washed over her like a wave crashing atop her head. Teach her to fight? A creature like this could teach her nothing.

  And yet, he had bested her. Multiple times now, and she had thought her practice was going well.

  She looked up at him once more. “Why would you do that?”

  “I grow weary of humans who throw twigs as though they will pierce our flesh.” He spread his arms at his sides. Perhaps it was his way of giving her every advantage to kill him, even though he knew she couldn’t. “If I teach you, then perhaps I shall have one last challenge.”

  “I will kill you as soon as I know how,” she said.

  He tilted his head to the side and nodded. “That’s precisely why I wish to teach you, princess. The princess of Hollow Hill might be capable of striking a single blow.”

  “I will do more than that.”

  His laugh was cruel and hard. “No, princess. You won’t. But I appreciate your enthusiasm for killing me. Many have tried, and few have made me bleed.”

  She pressed her fists into the ground, muscles quaking with the need to attack him. “I will bathe in your blood, someday.”

  He pointed at her with a wicked grin on his face. “You have more animal in you than I.”

  The Dread spread his wings wide and shot up into the air. The gust of wind pushed her onto her behind, flattening her with its power.

  Danielle watched him as he soared overhead and then disappeared beyond the forest canopy. He’d let her live. Again.

  Swallowing hard, she wrapped her hand around the sword hilt. Unsure of what she had done, or if she’d even agreed to such learnings.

  Above all else, Danielle knew she would return to the meadow once more. If he thought he could teach her to fight, then he could train her to kill him.

  Chapter 6

  Danielle made it back to the palace in one piece, although a part of her mind remained in the meadow.

  She was
n’t crazy. Her mother wasn’t mad. There were creatures in the forest. Creatures who would have given anyone nightmares.

  His leathery wings were straight out of storybooks. The holes in the ragged lengths… They were beauty and danger mixed in a delicious wine she’d never tasted before.

  The beast had his hands around her neck twice now. He’d left marks on her body, and yet, he’d let her live both times.

  What logic lay in that?

  Danielle snuck back to her rooms, desperately wanting to travel down the halls to her mother. Perhaps the queen would know more. If only she could let her mother know she believed her. There really were monsters in the forest and they could speak. Did her mother ever communicate with one as Danielle had?

  Although, perhaps that would only make her mother’s condition worse.

  Too many questions burned deep in her mind, and she always ended in the same place. The beast had said he would teach her to fight.

  An unfamiliar emotion bloomed in her chest, but it felt very much like pride. If a beast like him saw something monstrous in her… well. Perhaps she was more than just a pampered princess.

  “Danielle!” Her maid’s voice snapped through the air. “Where have you been? You’re late for dinner!”

  She closed the door and stared at the mess of her room. Her maid had thrown dresses atop the small chair and vanity in the corner. They littered her pale blue bed and draped across the fainting couch at the back of the room. One even hung from the glass pane of her arched window.

  “What happened, Maisie?” she asked.

  “Your father has called a surprise dinner. He said he wanted to spend time with his children.” Maisie wrung her hands. “He said you were all to be presentable.”

  Which meant all his children were to wear their best. Perhaps that was why her mousey maid had destroyed her bedroom.

  Maisie was a simple girl, but sweet even in the worst of times. She wore a simple brown gown and a white apron. A matching white kerchief covered her hair, but long tangles of chocolate curls slipped out from underneath it. Her overly large nose and small eyes had made her a perfect pick for ladies maid and not a bride, but Maisie had never minded.

  All she’d ever wanted in life was to take care of someone else. At least, that’s what she had told Danielle years ago.

  Danielle sighed. “Fine. If Father wishes to see us all again, then by all means. Let’s see how pretty I can get.”

  “You’ll look beautiful.”

  But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Danielle was beautiful. She was delicate and small in all the right places and by all means the perfect princess to become queen. She was everything her mother hadn’t been, and all that her mother was.

  Every detail of her father’s wishes had been born the moment she took a breath. Which was why he controlled her every move.

  Danielle sat at the vanity while Maisie made quick work of her hair. Each twist atop her head was another chain wrapped around her body. Beads of pearls draped across her curled hair and one over her forehead. A crown and yet not.

  Another reminder that although Danielle was her father’s successor, she was not yet queen.

  Maisie had picked an icy pale dress that floated around her body like sea foam. The sleeves were little more than gauzy fabric. Each time she took a deep breath, they lifted into the air and took long moments to settle back in place. The heart-shaped bodice hugged tight to her torso while the delicate skirts shuddered with the slightest movement.

  She was, in essence, a creature who stepped out of a storybook. A princess whom everyone had dreamed of their entire lives.

  Tiny.

  Pretty.

  Perfect.

  She wanted to rip the fabric from her body and toss it all into the fire. The garish garment made her feel less like a person and more like a prisoner.

  Maisie stepped back, a bobby pin in her mouth, and nodded. “You look beautiful. As I thought.”

  “Is it beauty?” Danielle asked. “Or fragility?”

  “They are the same.”

  She couldn’t disagree more. But the Princess of Hollow Hill wasn’t allowed to disagree with anything that ruined her image. So she stayed silent instead.

  Danielle made her way to the Great Hall. The double doors loomed ahead of her, bracketed by two guards in silver armor and one sibling who leaned against the solid wood with his arms crossed.

  “Milo,” she said, pausing in front of her brother. “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for you.” He blew a strand of waist length hair from his face and stared up at her through the locks.

  Milo was handsome for a man, but beautiful was a better term. As the only son, he would have inherited the throne in any other kingdom. Hollow Hill crowned the eldest child, however, regardless of sex. But he’d never held it against her.

  Instead, he’d used the opportunity to express himself. Even now, he wore the breeches of a man, but his shirt was mostly covered by an elaborate navy corset. Gold buttons gleamed in twin rows down the front. Whatever maid had the strength to yank the threads back had given him an impressively tiny waist.

  Danielle lifted a brow and stared at the dip she could have circled with her own hands. “Not intending to eat, I take it?”

  “Father said to dress in our best.” He looked down at his corset, then back at her to grin. “So I did.”

  “He won’t like it.”

  “He likes nothing.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong. Danielle reached out her arm for Milo to take. “Shall the disappointing children arrive together?”

  “It’s like you knew my plan all along.”

  She gave a nod to the guards who swung the doors open for them to stride through. The Great Hall gleamed as though the servants were still waxing the white marble floors.

  A pale blue carpet cushioned their steps. The pale stone table in the center of the room had been carved out of the same stone as the floor and was polished into a mirrored surface. The ceiling stretched higher than ten men and still higher up. Giant marble angels were carved into the walls, one head the same size as a man. Their wings spread wide, surrounding the entire room with feathers touching at the entrance and at the end of the room. Some feathers were marble, others were crystal clear glass.

  Her father sat at the head of the table. His silver crown glinted in the sunlight streaming through the many windows.

  Her other two siblings sat with him. Two sisters. One dressed in shining silver armor. The other, small and ill.

  The King of Hollow Hill couldn’t have had different children if they’d all had different mothers. She wasn’t sure how he was so lucky. Or unlucky.

  “My children,” he called out, his voice booming and echoing over the marble. “You are late.”

  Danielle dropped into a curtsey, tugging her brother down with her. “My apologies, father. We wished to enter together so as not to make you wait any longer.”

  “And that delayed you?”

  She sent a silent prayer for forgiveness, then said, “I had my maid redo my hair. It wasn’t as you wished.”

  Even from this distance, she saw her father’s brow quirk. “And what was my wish, daughter?”

  “For all your children to be presentable. As you see us now.”

  Milo stiffened at her side. He knew the corset was a risk. Some days, her father was in a good mood. These were the days he’d tolerate his son’s eccentricities. Other days, such a bold choice would send her father into a screaming rage.

  They both held their breath, hoping for the former and not the latter.

  A smile spread across their father’s face. “Indeed, you are. Come, sit with us, my children.”

  Danielle released Milo and let him round the table to sit at their youngest sister’s side. Once upon a time, they were twins. Two sides of the same coin.

  She still remembered them tumbling down the halls atop each other. No one could tell them apart, especially since her mother had let Milo keep his hair lo
ng. They’d looked like two boys… two girls? It depended on the day.

  Now, Melissa was a whisper of the thunder she had once been. The coughing sickness had attacked her lungs.

  Danielle sat beside Diana and breathed out a low sigh. “Sister.”

  “You are well?” Diana asked.

  “Pleasant enough.”

  “Good.”

  And that was all they ever said to each other these days. Diana was too busy with learning how to run the armies and Danielle… well, Danielle snuck away.

  She glanced over at Melissa, waiting until their gazes caught. “Melissa.” She tried to warm the icy tones, turning them into something soft and warm.

  Melissa nodded and a thin whine was her reply. Her lips moved, but the sound was wrong.

  Danielle could remember listening to Melissa sing before she’d gotten sick. Her voice had been that of a lark, lifting into the rafters. Every word was more a hymn than any priest could ever hope to sing.

  Until her father had called a red hooded healer for the cough, and the man had cut out Melissa’s tongue.

  She’d never recovered.

  Swallowing hard, Danielle turned toward her father. Every muscle in her body tensed. Was this all a ruse? Was he about to tell them something terrible, something which would ruin their lives?

  Instead, her father lifted a drink and toasted her. “Eldest daughter.”

  “Father.”

  And that was all. The doors opened and servants entered. They filled the polished, mirrored table with fresh greens, a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth, and far more vegetables than she could name. Cheeses and fruit were placed at each of their elbows to eat.

  She served herself and watched her siblings do the same. Diana and her father spoke of the armies and her training, but the rest of them were silent.

  All she could hear was the sound of chewing. Slowly, as each moment proved their father wasn’t using this time to trick them, she fell into a lull of relaxation. Her belly grew full and her mind wandered.

  Once again, the monster overtook her thoughts.

  Did the beast eat feasts like this? If the creature could speak, there must be more like him. Otherwise, what need would he have to converse?