by Emma Hamm
“No,” he replied with a chuckle. He looked over at her with an amused glint in his gaze. “You’re a feral little thing, you know that?”
Danielle bared her teeth and lifted her hands into claws. “Be frightened of me, Dread. There are terrible creatures in the wood.”
To her great surprise and delight, he mimicked her posture. Claws lifted, fangs bared, he was more terrifying than her. “I’m one of the creatures, remember?”
She tried her hardest to keep the fierce expression on her face, but found it impossible when he was glaring at her with equal intensity. Her fierce expression cracked and Danielle laughed so hard her stomach ached when she was finished.
Wiping a finger under her eyes, she shook her head. “All right then, Dread. You win. What are we training on?”
“Meditation.”
The word fell flat between them. She repeated, “Meditation?”
He situated himself more comfortably on the ground. He rested his clawed hands on his knees, palm up, and then nodded. “Yes, meditation.”
“What’s that going to do? I’ll be able to think them away?”
“A good warrior enters a state of meditation when he fights, princess. No other thoughts can take precedence in your mind. You must be completely and utterly in the battle, or you will lose. The best way to learn how to do that in a short amount of time, is to learn how to clear your mind.”
“I’m not very good at that,” she muttered. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Put those thoughts away through meditation then.” When she didn’t move, he growled. “Princess. Close your eyes.”
She did as she was told, although she still didn’t see the meaning in it.
“Now, take a deep breath in, count to five, hold it, and then exhale on the same count.”
Danielle did as he asked, but her mind rattled with thoughts. How did a creature like the Dread know how to meditate? Of all things, she had never expected a monster to ask her for this. Breathing. Clearing her mind. He should show her how to fight with tooth and claw!
“Your mind is wandering,” he scolded. “You will always have thoughts trying to break through your concentration. Move them to the side and continue to focus on the sound of your breathing.”
In and out.
Inhale. Exhale.
She tried her best to focus but all she could think about was the Dread behind her. Maybe she didn’t have to learn how to fight. He could do the fighting for her. All she had to do was convince him there was a benefit in starting another war.
But Diana had already said there was a war. Which meant the Dread must know he was already fighting against her people. She’d never asked.
Danielle opened her mouth to release the question. A clawed hand pressed against her lips. “What part of meditation is so confusing to you, princess?”
“I had a question!” Her words were muffled against his palm.
“Silence. Keep your eyes closed, your mouth shut, and stop thinking.”
As if it were that easy. She’d tried to stop thinking her entire life, and not a moment had passed where she wasn’t rambling in her mind. Her sisters. Her brother. Her mother. Father. Friends. Kingdom. The monsters in the wood who seemed rather kind, but her sister insisted were horrible creatures.
Danielle let out a huff of breath and then tried to let things go. Every time her mind focused on her sister, she pushed the thought away.
Just breathe, she thought. Inhale. Exhale.
Slowly, she got the hang of it. It wasn’t easy. She couldn’t stop thinking all together, but it became second nature to acknowledge the thoughts and then push them away.
In the space where worry and fear had once reigned, creativity blossomed. Danielle could think more clearly in the sudden room for her to grow and understand what the world wanted from her.
The darkness in her mind was no longer frightening. There was a light there. One which she had to fan into existence, but it was there.
Danielle came out of the meditation feeling more relaxed. She opened her eyes and realized the sun had almost set. She’d been so focused, the entire afternoon had passed without her knowing.
Stretching her arms over her head, she yawned. Her body felt tired but her mind raced. So many thoughts and ideas had come to life in the time she spent thinking about nothing.
“I think I understand now,” she said.
The Dread did not reply.
Danielle twisted around, expecting him to be seated cross-legged beside her. But there was no one in the meadow. Only the sound of birds and the burbling of the river.
“Where did you go?” she asked, but no one remained to answer her question.
Perhaps she’d taken too long. She wouldn’t put it past the creature to tire of her and go back to his caves. Still, she might have liked a little conversation before he left.
Danielle stood. Just as she was about to leave, a small piece of vellum caught her eye. A rock sat upon it, holding it in place so the wind didn’t catch an edge while she was meditating.
Could the creature write as well?
Curiosity burning her chest like a hot stone, she crouched down and picked up the small piece of vellum. A portrait of herself stared back at her.
The strokes of charcoal were impressive and etched by a practiced hand. It was her, small but statuesque, seated by the river. It almost looked as though the picture would move at any second it was so detailed.
He’d taken great care with her hair. Every strand drawn with grace and movement. She could even see where the wind had brushed it away from the serene expression on her face.
The Dread had drawn her peaceful and held together by the surrounding nature.
Tears burned her eyes. She didn’t know why the sudden dam of emotion burst, but she couldn’t breathe knowing he’d drawn her.
She pressed the vellum against her chest and started the long trek home. It would be dark before she got there.
But now, even if her father captured her, she had a small piece of the Dread to give her courage.
Chapter 14
“There you are!”
Hands grabbed the back of Danielle’s shirt and yanked her off her feet. She hung in the air, struggling, but the guard only tightened his grip. He wasn’t about to let her go when the entire palace had been searching for days.
“Where have you been, princess?” He lifted her closer to his face. He wore the armor of Hollow Hill. Silver and blue, like ice and water poured over his body in armor stamped with snowflakes. A palace guard, and not just any guard. He was one of her father’s personal soldiers. His lips curved in a wicked grin, pleased with himself.
And why wouldn’t he be? Her father would reward him handsomely for dragging her to his side.
Even though she should be afraid, and a twinge of fear made her stomach roll, Danielle was mostly disappointed. She hadn’t learned enough from the Dread. Not yet, at least.
Now, she wouldn’t ever see them again. Her father would lock her up so no one would ever find her again.
She hung her head and fell limp in the guard’s arms. “Fine,” she whispered. “Bring me to my father.”
The guard kept a strong hold on her arm as he dragged her through the halls of the palace. Any servant who caught sight of the princess muttered behind their hands. “Look, it’s her!”
She’d been hiding in the damn closets, of course it was her. They were just horrible at finding people.
What would her father do when he finally got his hands on her? She’d defied him for long enough to be an embarrassment. Would he whip her like Diana? Cut out her tongue like Melissa?
She blew out a long, slow breath. Whatever he had planned, at least she knew she had tried. The palace was a fortress and her father knew every tiny detail of it. She had evaded him for a long time, and should be proud.
Her last few days of freedom were filled with adventure. Few people could say that in her family.
The guard stopped her in front
of the door to her father’s study. “He’s not happy with you princess,” the man said.
“When is he ever?” The words escaped before she could stop them.
The guard flinched at her tone, but she could only pray her father hadn’t heard them beyond the door. She’d enjoyed her time with the Dread and not having to watch her tongue. But if she made a mistake like that in front of the king, she would regret it.
The guard lifted his fist and pounded on the door to the study. She couldn’t imagine why it was necessary to be so loud. Her father knew they were standing and waiting. He knew everything.
“Enter.”
The harsh word sent a chill down her spine. Every fiber of her body filled with fear and dread. The real emotions, not the way she felt around the creatures.
Without hesitation, the guard swung the door and shoved her through.
Danielle stumbled into her father’s room. It was as she remembered. Opulent. Silver and blue etched. But she knew this time would differ from the other times her father had called upon her. He didn’t want to teach her how to be a princess.
He sat behind his desk, elbows on the cold marble surface, fingers steepled and pressed against his lips. Ice-blue eyes surveyed the boots on her feet, the clothing unfit for a princess, and the messy bun atop her head.
Any moment now he would scream. He would rage, throw things, break whatever was within reach. She would be expected to stand and take such childish behavior because if she flinched even a bit, he would use that as a sign of weakness.
Except, this time he didn’t rage. He didn’t scream.
Her father continued to stare at her with such hatred in those cold eyes, she wondered why she didn’t freeze in place.
“Danielle,” he growled. “Where have you been?”
Lie, she told herself. Don’t tell him where you were.
“I-I-” she stuttered the words, incapable of lying to her father but not wanting to tell him where she’d been.
He lifted a hand in the air to silence her. “I only want to hear the truth.”
Danielle’s jaw closed with an audible snap. She ground her teeth and met his gaze with as much confidence as she could muster.
If he wanted the truth, then she would say nothing. His reaction to the simple word Dread was enough of a threat. He’d kill her if he found out where she’d been these past few days.
Her father stood from his desk. He breathed in, then tucked his hands behind his back. His slow, sauntering gait was even worse than if he’d run at her. He knew he’d trapped her. She could go nowhere, and no one would help her in this palace of nightmares.
He stopped in front of her and released his hands. His fingers were white from where he’d been clutching them so hard the blood had drained from his fingertips. With so much care it brought tears to her eyes, he cupped her jaw in his hand.
“My daughter,” he whispered. “I love you dearly, don’t you know? Your absence hurts my heart.”
If only she believed a word of what he said. The child in her wanted to think her father loved her. The child wanted to curl up in his arms and whisper, “Papa please make the bad dreams go away.”
But her father didn’t love her. He never had.
When she didn’t respond, he tightened his hand. He squeezed so hard she felt her jaw protest and ache. He pushed her cheek against her teeth, hollowing it out and drawing blood within her mouth.
“I will only ask one more time,” he said. “Where have you been, Danielle?”
No response would make him happy. She needed more time to convince her father she hadn’t been up to any nefarious acts. She needed to decide what would make him happy.
Danielle wasn’t ready for this conversation. She’d been so focused on the Dread, she hadn’t given herself time to plan for her father.
“Still silent?” He asked. His hand tightened even more until he finally squeezed a whimper out of her. “That’s more like it. You’re far too much like your mother.”
He twisted his hand, throwing her to the side and against the door. She hit the wood with a bang. Her shoulder connected first and then the side of her head which made her ears ring.
She couldn’t think. Her father wouldn’t hurt her. She was the crowned princess, no one could see her with bruises on her face. And yet... he had.
Hand shaking, she reached up and touched the side of her aching head. Slick blood coated her fingers. Her forehead had split open, the fine filigree of the door too sharp.
“Father?” she whispered. She lifted her shaking hand and showed him the crimson color on her fingertips.
He stared at her with confusion for a few moments. He took one shaking step back and shook his head. As if he could banish what he had done by denying it.
Of all his children, he’d never once hurt her. Never enough to draw blood, although he had stripped her confidence and mind many times.
“No,” he whispered. “No one can see that.”
“Father, it hurts.”
“Quiet,” he hissed. “No one can know you were ever touched, do you hear me? The healers will see to your head. You are fine.”
She didn’t feel fine. Her eyes couldn’t focus on him anymore. Her head felt as though it would split open, like a rose bud finally blooming. Except there weren’t petals in her head. Just blood and gore.
“You’re fine,” her father repeated. “Guard!”
The guard who had brought her into the room opened the door. It clipped Danielle’s shoulder, and she fell onto her knee. The room spun. The blue carpet seemed above her, except now it was pressed against her cheek. She could feel the softness against her skin and it was such a sharp contrast to her father’s hand on her face. Was he still holding her head?
No, it was the guard. He had bent onto a knee and tried lifting her head up. “Your Majesty?” He said the words like they were a question, but she didn’t know what he was asking.
“Take her to her room,” her father replied. “No one is to see her. Bring a healer we can trust.”
The guard hadn’t been talking to Danielle. That made more sense. Her father wouldn’t want anyone to see her like this.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Hands slipped underneath her knees and beneath her back. The strange sensation of floating made her stomach turn, and she thought for a moment she might vomit. I can walk, she wanted to tell them. I can get to my room on my own, please stop touching me.
But she couldn’t speak through the headache blistering in her skull.
Then, she was in her room and someone else was touching her. Prodding at her head, poking and pounding.
“Stop,” she whispered. Her mouth felt dry. “That hurts.”
No one listened to her complaints. Or perhaps they didn’t care to respond. Whoever it was pressed a cloth against her head, wrapped it too tight, and then forced some kind of tea down her throat. She nearly drowned with an inhale because the healer didn’t let her breathe. He made her drink the foul tonic and then left without a word.
Danielle didn’t know how long she laid in her bed. All she knew was her head ached and she couldn’t focus.
Or could she?
When she could finally think enough through the pain, she remembered meditating. How taking her mind out of the current situation could help her in battle. Perhaps it could help her now.
She focused on her breathing. In and out. Inhale and exhale.
Slowly, the pain eased. She could focus on something other than the heartbeat in her head. It was still there. Nothing could take away that pain, but she could think of something other than what her father had done.
She opened her eyes. The light made her head scream, but she pushed it aside once more. She was back in the palace. Her room had been stripped of comfort. Only her bed and wardrobe remained. Even the mirrors were gone.
If she listened intently, she could hear the subtle creak of leather armor and clink of metal plates. There were guards outside her door. At least two, because
one was speaking while the other coughed.
Her father wasn’t taking any chances this time. Someone would see her leave no matter where she went.
Somehow this punishment was worse than the lash. She was locked away. Trapped in a tower and no one would come get her.
A plan. She needed some kind of plan or she would rot in this cell until her father found someone he deemed worthy to take over his kingdom. Someone old, most likely. Someone who would keep her in this tower as a broodmare and nothing more.
Her throat closed up, and the pressure felt as though someone choked her. Danielle sat up in her bed. She held her head in her hands and drew her knees close to her chest.
“Figure something out,” she whispered. “Danielle, you can’t stay here and die.”
The window in her room rattled. Wind pressing against it as a storm came through. She was glad the elements mimicked her emotions. She was lost and tired and so defeated.
Again, her window rattled. This time, it didn’t sound like wind shaking the glass, but like someone rapped upon the panes.
Swallowing, she lifted her head and stared at the monster peering through her window.
She didn’t recognize the Dread outside. It didn’t look like the others. No nose graced its face and missing ears made its head misshapen. It was far more frightening than any of the other creatures she’d seen, and more out of place.
This was the terrifying beast she’d expected to find in the wood. This was the creature her sister feared more than anything else.
Seeing the Dread in her home somehow made the creature more horrific. It should be underground with its own kind, not here in her opulent world where words were more dangerous than weapons.
Again, the creature tapped its claws on the window. The grin on its face only made her even more frightened. Danielle wanted to hide under the covers. Pull them over her head and pretend there was no monster outside.
The creature rolled its eyes and lifted something in its arms. A blanket covered something, although it looked like a sword.
The sword.