Born To Rule

Chapter Five

In an instant, I jolted upright and reached for the knife by my side, only to find it missing. Fuck.

I hugged my arms around my knees and buried my face, trying to recall what happened. The blinding throb in my head was gone, as were the stone giants” chanting voices. I tried to hide my pain from the witch, but in the end, it surged like an active volcano. The last thing I remembered were those cool, airy hands lifting me from the ground.

Birdsong and the distant roar of water drifted through an open window, but I couldn’t bring myself to look around yet. I wasn’t ready to take in the unfamiliar setting.

A gentle whisper caressed the side of my arm, and I lifted my head. An airy gossamer curtain floated, caught on the morning breeze. The soft scent of hyacinth and freesia beckoned me toward the window, and I uncurled myself. As I followed their lure, I tripped on something. A sharp ache radiated through my toes, and a hiss cut through my teeth. I hopped on one foot, seeing my boots set neatly beside the bed. She removed my shoes?

At the round, wooden-framed window, I took my first look at Raven Ridge. From the top floor of this home, meticulously hewn into a massive sandalwood tree, the view stretched out like a scene from a storybook.

Far below, flowers poured from carved planters along the sprawling cobblestone streets. Little homes and shops bore beautiful ash-wood trimming littered with intricate designs that gave the structures an elegant but whimsical touch. The town itself was charming, but the backdrop had me captivated enough to still my breath.

The village was nestled within a natural fortress of immense waterfalls. Their thunderous roar echoed across the expanse, while a sturdy wooden wall safeguarded the exposed side, its gate displaying the same elegant carvings. Misty spray billowed from each cascade—it should’ve been enough to drench everything nearby, but I felt none. The air was dry, comfortable. I took a deep breath, savoring the freshness of it.

An aurora of pink, yellow, and green rippled above, quick as lightning, drawing my attention to what must’ve been the spell that blocked the mist. It was the only explanation. Raven Ridge was quaint, but in the most incredible way.

I pushed off the sill, then appraised the bed I slept in. The white sheets were mussed and dirtied from my outfit—filthy from my time in the dungeons. On the chest of drawers sat a neat pile of freshly folded clothes, a pair of boots, and a note. My fingers traced the black-on-black paisley embroidered along the length of the knee-high boots. They were finely made and absolutely perfect. I picked up the delicate stationery, my cheeks pulling tight, and read Sidelle’s note.

Mira,

I hope you find the room to your liking. Down the hall to your right is your private bathing chamber. Once you feel up to it, I’d love for us to have a talk. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.

Genuinely,

Sidelle

I grabbed the clothes and laid them out on the bed. A lacy tunic paired with a silk vest and fitted pants. All black, and the correct sizes. She went shopping for me too?

I fingered the tunic’s sleeve while two vastly conflicting instincts warred in my mind. One of wary caution, and the other, a foreign instinct that told me the witch’s kindness was genuine. The clothes, this room—not to mention she saved me from the king’s ill-placed rage. I hadn’t expected any of it, and yet Sidelle extended these generosities. No one had ever made such an effort for me before. And why would they—why would she?

After I canvassed the space for anything suspicious, I searched outside my window for an escape route should I need one. Apart from scaling this enormous tree, though, there was no way down. The reflex to keep my guard up coiled itself in my thoughts like a defensive cobra, reminding me to remain vigilant until I found out exactly why I was here. I spun to face the bed where I laid out the new outfit. I’m still going to wear those boots, though.

The clothes hugged my body perfectly, and as I passed the washroom’s mirror, I stopped to peer at myself properly for the first time in a long while.

Nothing would have prepared me for the image that stared back. I’d always known I was attractive. It’d been a leg up on my competition as a bounty hunter. Men’s egos were often their greatest weakness, making them rarely suspicious of a beautiful woman who showed them interest. But regardless of how many times I used my looks to gain an advantage on a hunt, I never saw myself look so healthy.

It must have been the tangerine-scented oil I found and added to my bath. Perhaps it contained some magical ingredient? My skin had lost its sallowness, and the dark circles under my eyes brightened into a plump, vibrant appearance. My hair, though wet, cascaded down my back in a sleek sheet. And my scars—my scars were gone. Something between astonishment and elation swelled in my chest.

After towel-drying my hair, I secured it in a high ponytail with a clasp I found in the drawer. Then, with one more appreciative glance at my reflection, I ventured out to meet Sidelle.

A spiral staircase at the end of the hall led to the first floor. Hushed voices, sizzling bacon, and rich breakfast scents drifted from below. My palm slid against the wooden banister as I descended the steep curves, its raw texture grainy beneath my fingers.

The home was less elaborate than I assumed, judging by the room and bathing chamber, but it had a cozy ambiance. Natural light poured in from the many arched windows, all overlooking the landscape from different points of view. A reader’s dream. Though I was neither a reader nor a dreamer.

The voices came from a room just out of sight. Sidelle’s soft, honey-like tone was easily distinguishable, but the other was deep. A man. Male.

I paused, trying to listen, but couldn’t make anything out, so I rounded the corner to cross the threshold.

The familiar hiss of metal cutting through the air snared my attention. In a blink, I dropped into a crouch, out of the impact zone. The dagger sank into the wall, embedded deep, right where my head had been.

Chest tight and senses heightened, I snapped my eyes up and locked onto the male, an intrigued sneer gracing his lips. A single glance was enough to realize this was a being honed for war. His every muscle, sculpted to perfection, exuded his capability to take down enemies. And though I had no way of knowing how old he was, something told me that a presence like that could only be shaped by centuries of experience.

Against all self-preservation, I returned his smirk with a red-hot glare. On the defensive, I studied the blade protruding from the wall. It still vibrated from the impact as I grabbed hold of the jeweled handle.

“That’s mine!” I hissed through my gritted teeth, yanking it free, then squared myself on my enemy.

Sidelle pinned him with a scowl. “Eurok, what the hell are you doing?”

“What?” He shrugged. “You said her skills were impressive. Wanted to see for myself.”

“You could have killed her.” Her fists clenched tight at her sides.

“If she couldn’t dodge that, then she’d never survive my training.” He took a carefree swig from his glass.

My temper was venomous. I angled my knife at him, though directed my glare at Sidelle. “What training? And why did he have my fucking blade?”

“She’s a feisty one too? This should be fun.” He turned away, then winked at me over his shoulder.

My rage ignited like grease on a fire. I slung the dagger, and it whizzed toward the exact point on the druid’s back at which I aimed.

I was prepared to hear the slick sound of metal penetrating flesh—when he sidestepped out of its path. He caught the blade in mid-air, so fast my mind barely grasped what happened. My jaw dropped with my sharp gasp.

The witch walked toward me, shooting a look at Eurok like it served him right, but the druid only gave a bored half-shrug and plopped in a chair near the hearth.

“What was he doing with my blade?”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Sidelle said. “I meant to return them to you once we had the chance to talk, though I wasn’t expecting Eurok,” she shot him another incredulous leer, “to pick one up and start hurling them at you.”

Eurok only winked again, then sipped his drink. His arrogance wasn’t helping anyone’s irritable state.

“If he winks at me one more time, I’m going to make it permanent.” I’d pluck out one of those pretty eyeballs and wear it as a necklace.

Sidelle pursed her lips. “He won’t. He means no harm.”

With a huff of disbelief, I crossed my arms and kicked out my hip. “Really?”

After a moment spent exchanging a silent look with Sidelle, he pushed to his feet, then offered his hand. “Eurok Dramagan, Captain of the Druid Army.”

I refused the gesture, letting my disdain show.

Sidelle spoke again, “Mira, Eurok is here because I requested his help.”

“With what?”

“Would you like to sit with us?” she asked. “There’s a lot to discuss, and I think it’s time we were all on the same page.”

I nodded and let the witch lead me into the sitting room. I surveyed the spacious area and glanced at the table beside the druid captain. Next to his empty glass were the rest of my daggers and my holster. I walked over and kept a challenging eye on him. He held my stare with an air of indifference.

Confident? Arrogant? I couldn’t decide.

“Captain, huh?” I asked, securing my holster around my hips. “Guess that explains it.”

“Explains what?” he drawled, tone bored and flat.

I smirked, allowing my taunting appraisal to linger over the warrior sitting on the floral-stuffed chair. I slid my blades into place and glanced at Sidelle. A humorous, knowing smile wavered on her lips.

“All—of this.” I made a show of waggling my fingers down the length of the druid’s armor-clad physique.

Sidelle’s composure slipped in a small snort of laughter.

The druid cast a look of annoyance between the two of us, shaking his head, then stepped around me to refill his glass.

After securing each familiar blade in their respective holsters, I found the seat directly across from his. To my surprise, he returned with a drink for me as well.

“Here, you’ll need this.”

I accepted the offer and swirled the amber liquid. I hadn’t tasted bourbon in ages, and the intoxicating aroma of this particular one was a pleasant bonus. After a sip, savoring the smooth burn, I set the drink on the table beside me.

Eurok sat with his ankle crossed over his knee. He intrigued me. It was obvious he was highly skilled. I never witnessed anyone move so fast as when he caught my dagger. From what I gathered, he’d been playing with me when he threw it—testing me, as he said.

I found myself wondering how I’d fare against the warrior in a real one-on-one. Something told me not very well.

I studied his hand wrapped around his glass, the same one he caught my knife with. My brows pulled together with my shock—it was completely unharmed.

“Your hand!”

Eurok set his drink aside, giving the appendage an unconcerned once-over.

“There’s no way that blade didn’t slice you.”

“Oh, it did.” He removed a dagger from his baldric and, without so much as a thought, split his palm.

Sidelle loosed a sharp hiss from across the room. “Eurok, is that necessary?”

Crimson spurted and welled in a pool around the knife. But almost as soon as he pulled it away, the gash sewed itself together, leaving no trace of there ever being a mark.

“Healing mana,” he said.

My head swiveled between the two. “Can you all do that?”

“Not all, but it’s one of the more common gifts among our kind,” Sidelle answered.

“Makes us pretty hard to kill.” He slid his blade back into place and winked again.

Now I know he’s doing it to fuck with me.

I narrowed my eyes, but sensing this antagonistic behavior might just come naturally to the haughty bastard, I ignored it. “Gifts?”

“Gifts. Talents,” Sidelle said. “There are four common ones—healing, shifting, earthing, and decanting. But there will be plenty of time to talk about all of that, I promise. Instead, Mira, I want to discuss where we go from here. How are you feeling, by the way?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Fine. Though, it would’ve been nice if you warned me the magic would affect me like that.”

“So you did sense mana in the stone forest. You recognized it?” The witch’s eyes lit up like moonlight on a dark pond.

A mixture of caution and irritation slowed my response. “Yeah.”

“Have you possessed mana before?” Sidelle stirred her tea in gentle strokes as if she hadn’t just asked such an absurd question.

I scoffed. “Of course not, I’m human.”

She paused a heartbeat before saying, “I think it would be beneficial if we started experimenting together. I’d like to see if you can learn to wield mana to some degree.” She eyed me over the edge of her teacup as she sipped, seeming to be thoughtfully choosing her words.

“To what end?” A heavy dose of skepticism laced my tone. I didn’t take the idea of being anyone’s guinea pig lightly. What good would come of teaching me about magic? I was just an ordinary human, and not once in my entire miserable life had there been any indication of anything different.

I reined in my frustration and reminded myself that I decided to treat the witch with kindness. Aside from sensing her cautious choice of words, I didn’t feel as if there were any ill intentions behind her strange suggestion. So I sat, like a marble statue, and waited for her to elaborate. Eurok, brooding over his bourbon, said nothing.

“That’s another matter we need to discuss.” She leaned forward, set her tea aside, and met my intentional stare.

Foreboding crept in and clamored up my spine, but I was determined to hide my vulnerability. Though we all knew I irrevocably was. I had no lent, no bounty, and a mad king at my back who would sooner see me dead than let me roam free. My choices were whatever the witch offered, or—death.

So I waited for these two powerful beings to reveal what was to come of my life. Just say it already.

“I suppose the simplest way to explain this is to start from the beginning,” she said, “I believe it’s import–”

“No.”

Her jaw snapped shut at my interruption, and she cocked her head. “No, what?”

“No, beginnings.” My tone was adamant, and it was clear both druids noticed the shift. I hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh, but I was through with waiting. “No more stories. I want answers. Why are you doing all of this?” I waved a hand around me, then down my length, gesturing at the new attire. “Why am I here?”

“And why is that?” Sidelle asked. “Why is it you prefer only answers and not have any of the details? This is such an unfamiliar situation. I would think you’d want to gain as much insight as you can.”

“That’s assuming I care.” I was through schooling my tone.

“On the contrary,” she said. “It seems to me that you’re trying to avoid caring.”

I raised an unimpressed brow.

“Is it possible,” she continued, “that you are not inclined to learn anything that might cause your heart to impede your decision-making?”

“My heart has never had much pull in my decision-making.” How dare the witch pretend to know me? She only just met me. She knew nothing of what I was capable of and knew nothing of my heart. “My patience wears thin, witch.”

Eurok’s eyes narrowed, and his lip curled in warning. I ignored him. Arrogant.

Sidelle crossed her legs, smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her lap, then leaned to one side of her chair, perching an elbow on the armrest. She was a picture of cool patience—and it was getting on my nerves.

“How about a deal?” she finally asked. “I’ll give you three yes-or-no questions of your choosing, and in turn, you agree to listen to what I wish to share with you.”

I relaxed my shoulders a bit and weighed the offer.

Three yes-or-no questions. She was smart for making that stipulation. The more people talk, the more they give away. It was a tactic I used while hunting for my targets. But conversing with drunken men in a bar was quite different from being limited to three questions to ask an ancient witch. I’d have to be smart and only ask what I believed to be most important, rather than what snared my curiosity.

“Any three questions?”

Sidelle nodded.

“And you’ll answer them truthfully?”

She nodded again.

I gritted my teeth, contemplating. “Deal.”

She gestured with an open hand. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I did my best to keep my expression neutral, thinking over the past few days and what the witch had said to me. She assured she had no intention of fulfilling her promise to the king, and claimed to hold no loyalty to him. Asking what that promise entailed didn’t seem like a priority if she wasn’t going to fulfill it.

If that were true, though, then why answer his every beck and call? Was it simply because he was the king—a requirement of her job? Or was there more to it than that? What did she stand to gain in all of this? Or was she just a prisoner with a very long leash?

“Do you plan to use me to end this,” I wasn’t sure what to call it, “arrangement you have with the king?”

Sidelle’s face fell ever so slightly. Apparently, she hadn’t expected that to be my first question. But a soft smile slowly spread across her features—almost as if she was proud of me.

“Yes.” Her answer was unapologetic.

Surprised at the witch’s reaction, I had to rally my rationale to find my next question. My initial assumption was that she was using me for her own benefit. But I sat with it for a moment, dissecting her response. It was her expression that left me conflicted. A spark ignited in her eyes like she was happy that I was putting the pieces together.

When I formed my second question, I asked it with a wrenching ache in my gut. “Does anyone else stand to benefit from my participation in whatever this is?”

“Yes.” Her response was immediate. “Many, in fact.”

The king throwing me in a dungeon meant for wielders, the recognition on Sidelle’s face the first time we met, and that stroll through the mana-drenched stone forest. And now she wants to train me in magic? They think I’m her.

The room leaned, and I gripped the arms of my chair tight ‘til my fingers ached. They suspected I was some godsdamned mag princess. How the fuck will I get out of this?

Finally getting answers, I tried to compartmentalize the information from the emotions that threatened to spew from me like a geyser. All I really wanted to do was run. But run where?

Between Eurok’s bated breath and Sidelle’s expectant eyes, I felt like a candle threatening to go out. Whatever the witch had planned for me was clearly important enough for her to go through all this trouble. What did she want me to do that many would benefit from? Kill the king.

It didn’t matter. None of it. Because I was not who they thought I was. I was just an insignificant human, nothing compared to them. I wanted to believe so badly that some good would come of this that I let my better judgment slip, and now I careened face-first down a slippery slope. They have the wrong person.

With my mind made up, the final question was more or less a waste, but I decided to ask the only other thing I needed to know. “If I decline to help you, am I free to leave?”

For the second time, this didn’t seem to be what she expected. Her brows furrowed, and her lips pulled into a tight frown. “Yes.”

Eurok opened his mouth as if he wanted to challenge her words, but he didn’t speak.

Sidelle went on, “If you feel like that is the best decision by the time I’ve finished saying what I have to say, then yes. You are not a prisoner, Mira, as I’ve said. But leaving poses substantial risk.”

The hint of disappointment in her voice nicked at my heart, but I nodded. Screw the risk.As long as I didn’t have anyone but myself to worry about. A princess, I inwardly scoffed. She’d be better off asking Captain Gold Eyes here to be her princess.

I’d let the witch tell her story, but as soon as she was done, I’d thank her for her kindness and be on my way. Eager to put this behind me, I started making silent plans. I’d acquire a horse and some food later, find a way to make enough money to get my ass on a ship, then disappear for good.

Sidelle suggested we move to the rooftop balcony for the next part of our conversation, and once again, it had taken me a moment to recover from the view. She had a magnificent spread of foods brought up from the village. I filled two plates, planning to work through them as I listened. I might as well fill up while I can.

We sat around a circular table that looked as though it were a rippling pool of water. I ran my fingers along its solid surface. An illusion.

Sidelle spooned fresh fruit onto her plate, then offered some for me. When I nodded, she served me, then spoke. “I do not take you for a fool, Mira. I suspect you’ve figured out why I am asking you to stay.” Her cool words told me she was gauging how I was handling everything thus far.

“I’m not sure what I know,” I said flatly.

Eurok slammed his cup down, rattling the table and its contents. After a feigned apologetic shrug, he shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth, chewing a bit more aggressive than necessary. He’d been acting strange ever since I asked about my freedom to leave. Something told me he liked the idea of forcing me to stay a hell of a lot better.

Sidelle looked as though she wanted to roll her eyes at him, but faced me instead. “It’s not my intention to hide anything from you. I only wish not to overwhelm you.”

I finished chewing with an unhurried demeanor, then wiped my mouth on my napkin. “Not to overwhelm? Or is it to keep control?”

Another slam sent tremors across the tabletop. Sidelle jumped, and our glasses shuddered in response. Eurok’s hand lingered on the cup, and those amber eyes hardened on me.

I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head. “Is something the matter?”

“Tell me, Mira, did you feel disrespected when you proposed your questions?” he asked, each word clipped.

I set my jaw and lifted my chin. “No.”

My pride writhed, feeling like a chastised child, but I saw the point he was trying to make.

“Well, then maybe you wouldn’t mind showing her the same respect.”

There was a rumble beneath the table, and I glanced at my water to see it rippling. I nodded once, and the rumbling stopped. Confident.