Born To Rule

Chapter Ten

Apeculiar building constructed with symmetrical red bricks blocked out the sun’s glare. The entrance was made of clear glass windows housed within a black metal frame. A woman, carrying armfuls of brown paper bags, pushed a series of buttons on a pad beside the door. There was a snapping sort of sound, then she entered before the door swung shut behind her.

Curious, I decided to follow before a wailing scream cut the thought short—like a hundred howling banshees. My hands clamped over my ears as I whirled, seeking the source. It was an immense red metallic beast, bright lights flashing from every direction as it sped toward me.

As it passed, I noticed two humans sitting inside, guiding it somehow. A horseless carriage of some kind. More magic?

My chest heaved with my rising apprehension as I gathered my wits. Where the fuck am I? Voices from behind snagged my attention. A group of humans stepped onto the stone walking path, passing by without a second glance. They looked no older than me, all strangely dressed in blue pants and bright-colored tunics decorated with bizarre images and writing.

“That’s the last time we let you pick the restaurant, JJ,” a petite woman said.

She faced away from me, but something about her voice had me taking a tentative step closer.

“It’s not my fault our waiter sucked.” The tall, dark-haired guy punched the code into the pad.

The other man, blond, threw his head back and laughed. “It wasn’t just the waiter, bro.”

They seemed harmless—and I needed to know where the hell I was. “Hey!” I called out, rushing over.

With furrowed brows, the men looked my way, but the dark-haired girl did not.

I froze. An odd, insufferable sensation rooted me in place, snaring my breath. I was dreaming. No matter how much I willed myself to move, to speak, my body refused to respond. Gods, I must’ve seemed like a lunatic. A vacant-eyed, slack-jawed stranger. An odd tug yanked on my chest—this desperate longing for the girl to turn around.

A thin girl with curly-red hair came stumbling out of the door they’d opened and tripped, sending an armful of heavy books flying at their feet. Their attention turned from me, trying to help the girl collect her things–

I jolted awake and sat up with a groan. What the hell? I was no stranger to unusual dreams, though never as vivid as this. The stagnant metallic heat of that foreign city hung in my lungs as if I’d really been there. The buildings, carriages, the people—none of them held any familiarity—except for the dark-haired girl. Though she’d been a regular occurrence in my nightly head-trips throughout the years, I had no idea who she was. As dreams often do, the images were already slipping through the cracks of my memory.

I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands, then shoved the blankets aside. When my feet hit the floor, that gnawing ache in my stomach returned full force. The thought of going back on my word after one day of training was shameful and embarrassing. My pride bucked like an agitated horse just thinking about it. But it only proved my point—I didn’t belong here. I was leaving Raven Ridge today, with or without the witch’s help.

I dressed in my old clothes and placed the ones Sidelle bought on the dresser beside those beautiful, godsdamned boots. It pained me to do it, but taking them felt wrong.

My feet dragged as I ventured to the window to say my goodbyes to that impeccable view, burning the scene into my memory so I might someday tell someone about it. But who? My mind wandered to the innkeeper’s son, Rhymes. I don’t know why I never loved him. In my life, love was a foreign concept, absent, both in giving and receiving. Except perhaps my mother. My memories of her were so distant. It was hard to distinguish between what was real and what my young imagination concocted about her.

Once I was done with all this nonsense, tucked away in another kingdom, I might find someone who’d fill my days with laughter and my nights with warmth. I’d tell them all about my years as a bounty hunter, how I was imprisoned by the king because he mistook me for some long-lost magical fucking princess. Gods, would anyone even believe such a story?

A welcomed breeze soothed the heat in my cheeks and I closed my eyes, listening to the waterfall’s distant roar. It’s funny how quickly the sound grew on me. I’d miss this.

After a few more steadying breaths, I worked up enough nerve to leave. I eased the door shut, then descended the spiral staircase. Eurok and Sidelle’s voices floated up the stairs. She was laughing at something he said, and I thought back again to what Eurok told me that first night. It almost seemed cruel to deny herself love for the good of her people. Especially with someone as handsome and devoted to her as Eurok was.

My intention was to tell them my plans to leave right away, but my courage wavered at the sound of their laughter, then disappeared entirely when I rounded the corner to the sitting room. Sidelle separated from Eurok in a hurry, as if I interrupted something intimate. But where she took a few paces, Eurok moved with her, his hand low on her back, unwilling to hide anything.

I flashed a spry grin his way. “You’re here early.”

A wave of color spread across Sidelle’s cheeks.

He leaned against the wall, propping up a foot. The glint consuming his features as he eyed Sidelle was entirely unapologetic. “I slept on the couch.”

I wandered to the breakfast cart filled with fresh fruit and hot oats, picking a bright green apple. “Don’t hold out on my account.” I smirked at the witch, then took a bite. “A horse like that deserves to be ridden.”

Eurok loosed a loud, boisterous laugh, and the sheer shock on her face had me joining in. I couldn’t believe how timid the topic of fucking the druid made her.

When I first met her, I assumed she was more provocative. But thinking about it, I only made that assumption because of the dress she had on. She wore nothing like it since that day. Was that another reason for her bitterness toward the king? Did he make her wear those things? As if she needed any more reasons to hate him.

“Are you two finished?” she asked, shaking off her embarrassment.

She started toward the writing desk in the far corner, the long draping of her elegant coral tunic trailing her steps. The color against her flawless, smoky lavender skin made her look like a living sunset. She settled in the seat where an open ink bottle and half-finished letter rested atop the desk’s surface.

I gave Eurok a once-over. He wore the same clothes from last night, a little disheveled, but nothing of obvious concern. “Are you alright?” I asked, unsure if I even had the right to ask that of someone so powerful in comparison.

He nodded, his smile reassuring. “You?”

I shrugged. “Fine.”

“You did good,” he said. “You–”

“Don’t.”

His face took on a puzzled expression at the sudden shift in my tone. The knot I suppressed in my stomach all morning writhed like a keyed-up snake.

“Don’t patronize me. There’s no reason to.” I hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. I only meant that his reassurance and praise would do no good. No more kindness needed to be wasted on me.

“Mira, I’m not patronizing you. I’m proud of you.”

“Proud of me?”

Sidelle turned in her seat. Her shoulders tensed as she surveyed us, but she didn’t speak. Had he told her what happened? How he asked for my help, then ended up saving my ass instead?

He’d been so calm in the forest while we waited for the adraknid to emerge, confident, like it was nothing more than removing a minor pest problem. But when things went wrong, and he needed my help, I’d been as useless as a dull blade.

“Yes, proud of you.”

He pushed off the wall and started toward me, but I took a step back, conveying my resistance. He paused, noting my apprehension. Anything he had to say would only be a wasted effort to soothe my embarrassment and shame. I didn’t want it—didn’t deserve it.

I stared at the apple, probably the last thing I’d eat for a while. My stomach soured at the thought of taking another bite. I tossed it into the fire and watched it burn, trying to compose myself enough to tell them. The plan had been to deliver the news gently. I owed them that much after how hostile I’d been. Guess I fucked that up, too.

“I want to leave.” The almost whisper that came out of my mouth sounded unsure, but I wasn’t.

Sidelle spoke first. “Why?”

Her gaze fluttered to Eurok as if he might answer her question, but the druid’s face was as pained as mine.

“I’m not the person you think I am.” My apologetic tone felt so unfamiliar. “I know I said I’d try, but I almost got myself and Eurok killed yesterday. I just—can’t.”

The captain shifted. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Fine, I almost got myself killed.” I rolled my eyes. “My point is, I’m just a human. I don’t belong here.”

Sidelle placed the delicate white quill that dangled between her fingers into the inkwell, then stood. She stood and strode over to me. The light sighing in through the window behind her gave her bright silver hair an incandescent glow that made the determined look she wore daunting. She didn’t believe me—or wouldn’t accept it. No surprise there.

She stopped a breath away, close enough that her clove, citrus scent enveloped me. Could she hear the thudding of my heart as easily as I felt it in my chest? Would she interpret it as fear? I hoped not. It wasn’t fear that made my pulse quicken. It was my conviction to stand my ground against whatever ammunition the witch was readying to convince me to stay.

I wouldn’t.

“Being human has nothing to do with whether you belong here.”

The gentle assurance rolling off her was a punch to the gut. My steadfast expression wavered.

“What do you want, Mira?” she asked.

My ears perked at the question, though confusion knotted my tongue.

“I regret not asking earlier, but I truly desire to understand,” she said. “Does even some small part of you wish to be here with us?”

I frowned and shook my head. “What I want is irrelevant. I won’t waste everyone’s time pretending to be someone I’m not.”

That’s all it would be if I stayed. No matter how much my future-self might wonder what would’ve been, I refused to be the reason they failed to accomplish their goals. My mind was made up. Let my life be my burden, not theirs.

“It is not a waste of time.”

“It is,” I shot back.

She set her jaw, and I could have sworn a fine crackle of purple lightning crawled across her exposed skin, her shell of composure breaching ever so slightly before she reined it in.

“Sidelle,” Eurok said, tone pitched low in warning.

I didn’t understand it, but the witch glanced his way, and her tense demeanor eased. Her features were still ablaze with sure determination, but I would not back down. We were locked eye to eye, will to will.

I leveraged every bit of rationale I had, despite feeling like a geyser ready to go off. Forcing cool confidence into my voice, “If you believe for one second that I will miraculously wake up with powers, that I’ll be capable of half the things I’ve seen you two do in the last forty-eight hours—then yeah, it is absolutely a big fucking waste of time.”

Sidelle winced but stood firm.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I turned on the stone-faced warrior between me and the door. His features were set in smooth, emotionless scrutiny, but I saw wheels turning in those topaz eyes. “Eurok, thank you for trying yesterday. And thank you for saving me.” I meant the words, but they tasted like spoiled milk leaving my mouth. I never wanted to feel that helpless again.

Sidelle pursed her lips and raised a brow—another exchange I didn’t fully understand, but I ignored it and walked past him. I said my final apology over my shoulder, then stepped outside.

Halfway down the gravel path, Eurok called after me. I stopped, tipping my dejected glare toward the sky instead of facing him.

He slowed to a stop beside me. “Mira, will you please come back and just talk to us? Please.”

“It won’t do any good.”

“At least let Sidelle feed you before you go, then.”

I crossed my arms. “I can find food for myself.” Why was it always Eurok chasing me down for the witch?

My traitorous stomach growled, and he raised his brows in one last lighthearted plea. He smiled at my exasperated sigh, then wasted no time placing a hand on my shoulder to steer me back.

Inside, Sidelle emerged from a door under the stairs that I wasn’t sure I noticed before, wearing a simple pair of brown riding pants and a forest green vest over a long-sleeved cream tunic. She looked the part of a druid huntress, were it not for the staff she carried in place of a bow.

“I wondered if you might join me outside. If you truly plan on leaving, I have something I’d like to give you first.”

“I don’t need any more gifts.”

“I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer.”

Of course.

Frustrated, I sighed and shook my head, my defeat evident in the gesture. A quiet smile painted her lips, and she motioned for me to follow.

On a lower level, she led me through a back door. My jaw fell slack. Two of the most beautiful horses I’d ever seen waited just outside.

“I had them brought up from my personal stable.”

Unsure what to say, I wandered closer to the gorgeous animals.

Sidelle smiled and gestured to the solid black horse. Braided golden wire and wooden beads decorated its long mane. “This is Eiresh. He hails from the most esteemed Vylandrian stock and has undergone rigorous training with the rider clan druids of Star Hewn Valley.”

Cautiously, I pressed my palm against his sturdy neck. Solid velvet muscle, sleek beneath my touch, shifted as he turned, watching me with stunning ebony eyes.

“Horses trained by the riding clan are special,” Sidelle went on.

“I can see that.” Delight pitched my tone higher. He sniffed at my hand in heavy, warm huffs, then I scratched along the bridge of his nose. “Hello, Eiresh,” I cooed as if the massive beast were a small infant.

He nudged my palm, shaking his enormous head. Sidelle and I giggled.

“Well, beauty and personality aside, Arestellian stallions are fiercely loyal.”

I stroked his muzzle, and my eyes caught Sidelle’s. It was hard not to notice their similarities. Along with their dark, long-lashed irises, they shared the same gentle spirit.

“I’d like for you to have him,” she said, placing a light hand on his flank.

A jolt of astonishment flowed through me. I’d never received anything so generous in my life. But the chill of skepticism reared its ugly head, bitter and venomous as it bled into my thoughts. Could this be a manipulation tactic, a trick to keep me from leaving? Would she truly let me take the stallion with me?

Something stronger told me, yes, she would.

“Thank you,” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “I just have one question, though.”

With a curious tilt of her head, she waited.

“Do I have to keep the name Eiresh?”

Sidelle laughed—not a tight, polite, composed sound, but a real, voluminous laugh that filled the air with its honey-sweet cadence. I joined in, feeling my eyes crinkle and my face ache by the time it ebbed.

“Will you have lunch with me in the plaza? If you are determined to leave, I’d like to give you a proper send-off.”

I considered this a moment, stroking Eiresh’s mane in long sweeps. Finally, I sighed, “Okay.”

Music and the soft chatter of pleasant conversation blossomed into a pleasant din. We settled in at a tall two-person table near the eatery’s edge. A series of peculiar carts carried a wide array of foods and dishes, pushed along on a phantom wind between the open-air tables. Everyone served themselves from the various platters of fruit, meat, and cheeses with no regard to portion or cost.

“There’s no currency for food here,” Sidelle said, noticing what pulled my attention.

No currency for food. My brain could barely perceive it. I spent a significant portion of my life in a constant state of hunger, resorting to theft for sustenance or enduring such long periods without eating that I feared vomiting when I finally did. But here? A family of druids sat at the far end. The mother nursed an infant at her breast while she ate her salad—starving was hardly even a possibility.

“We’re a community,” she said. “We all contribute, so we all eat.”

I surveyed my surroundings. The shops and homes nestled along the river and amidst the trees seamlessly blended with the plaza, becoming an integral part of the surroundings. Most beings within Raven Ridge were druids, but there were others. I spotted a few short stocky dwarves, who I assumed came from the sharp western edge of the country where most of the mining took place. There was also the occasional spindly frame of the lesser fairies, whose delicate wings sent an iridescent spray of dust into the air when they fluttered by.

But no humans.

“Your energy seems very conflicted today,” Sidelle said. Her expression softened as she rested her chin on her fist.

I shifted in my seat. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you mention my energy.”

“I’ve been avoiding yours. It takes a lot out of me. But I think being in such close proximity the last few days has made it a little easier.”

My nose wrinkled. “Why would it be so overwhelming?”

A cart rolled to a stop beside our table, and when I peered at Sidelle, she nodded and reached for her plate. I hastily began filling mine with mounds of fruit and pulled three large rolls off the stack in the middle of the cart. She had a daintier approach to serving herself, though she also took an extra portion of bread.

“To be entirely honest, I’m not sure what makes your energy so difficult. Annorah’s was similar, though. I suspect it has something to do with that.”

I, inwardly, rolled my eyes.

“Unfortunately,” she said, tone light, “if you plan on leaving, I’ll never get the chance to figure it out.”

I caught on to the sly twinkle in her expression. When I didn’t smile, she let the look fall.

After a moment, she folded her hands in her lap and straightened. “Mira, I owe you so many apologies, most of all, for not acknowledging how much you’ve lost in such a short amount of time. My mind was consumed with thoughts of our future, safeguarding our actions from the king, and earning your trust. I should have made the effort to find out your true feelings or if you even wanted to be involved in this. I hope that as time goes by, you will discover your true potential and, one day, you’ll want to help us save our people.”

“Your people,” I said. “You want me to help you save your people. There’s no one here for me.”

“I am here for you.” A flicker of light reflected in her large, dark eyes, punctuating the meaning behind her words. There was no denying the intense desire she had for me to be here.

“And when I can’t use magic—mana? What then?”

I was determined not to deceive them into thinking I was someone else. This province and these people deserved better than that.

“Just hear me out,” I said, cutting off her answer. “You could be searching for some other solution to your problem, maybe even find Annorah’s real reincarnation.”

Sidelle’s eyes fluttered around as if to make sure no one was listening.

“All this time and effort it would take Eurok to train me—it will be for nothing.”

“Don’t you want to train?”

“Of course I do,” I scoffed. “But how does it benefit you, either of you, if I’m not who you think I am?” My lips pressed tight, forcing myself to calm the storm building beneath my skin. I preferred not to disturb anyone nearby, or alert them to something Sidelle didn’t want disclosed. I dropped my voice to a subtle whisper. “Why do you want Eurok training me, anyway? Was Annorah a fighter, too?”

The witch shook her head, her long snowfall-white hair swaying with the motion. “No. Annorah spent little time with warriors,” she said. “Eurok is training you because physical exhaustion can be a great conduit for a pre-blooming Vylandrian. When your body is pushed past its normal capabilities, your mana will instinctively want to take over. He is the only one I trust to push you to that point and help me guide you through your blooming.”

“Guide me?” I asked.

A striking druid gave us a curious, interested, once-over as he passed. I let my eyes follow him, an errant thought dancing through my mind. Sidelle cleared her throat, tracking my gaze. I snapped my attention back, seeing her playful, scolding smile.

After a breath, a serious demeanor settled over her features. “There’s more. That promise I made to the king?”

A nervous edge twisted through my stomach.

She swallowed, as if hating the words. “I swore to have Eurok train you in preparation to become the king’s personal assassin. He gave me two years.”

Well, fuck.

She folded her arms and leaned on the table. “I have every intention of welcoming you into my home, Mira, training you in our casting and wielding arts, and I plan to encourage you to continue your sessions with Eurok. However, if it turns out to be something you don’t want. I would still be honored if you would accept the official position as my assistant and stay here with me.”

My jaw fell slack. “Why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Every rebuttal I planned in my head fizzled out. I wanted to welcome her offer, but that distrustful serpent in the dregs of my mind, driven by experience and pain, coiled around my heart and held firm.

“I need to think about this,” I said, nudging away my unfinished plate.

“Are you gonna eat that?” a familiar voice called from behind.

I turned to see Eurok approaching. When he caught my eye, he flashed a wide smile. He braced his elbows against the iron gate beside us, eyeing Sidelle’s food. With a playful sigh, she pushed her plate closer. His grin brightened as he picked off an olive and popped it in his mouth.

“So, did you ladies get to talk?”

“We did,” Sidelle offered.

“And?” He snatched another olive.

Sidelle shrugged as if to say my decision was unclear.

Still chewing, Eurok laid a hand on my shoulder and gestured with his head for me to join him, his mahogany hair falling to the side. I walked around the table and through the black iron gate. He fell into step beside me, leading me toward the plaza’s arched wooden bridge. The structure consisted of twisted tree roots that spanned over the river that wove through the village.

“Why are you fooling yourself?” he asked outright.

I was so fucking tired of trying to convince them I didn’t want to be here—not if it meant messing things up for them. If I stayed, I still only had two years until the king would expect a full-fledged assassin to be in his employ. While royal wages were a tempting idea, he was a deceitful bastard. I’d never feel right about serving him, especially if he’d have me hunting Vylandrian sympathizers like Greggor.

If I didn’t go now, I’d have to eventually. Why would I do that to myself? Why would I wait until I’ve fallen in love with this place—with these people? All around me were the laughing, blissful faces of the patrons, the whimsical tranquility of the village, and could already feel a piece of that shell I built around my heart cracking. I have to leave now.

“Let’s say I stay and my powers bloom. The king will hear of it and want me dead, and he’ll know exactly where to find me. If I don’t bloom, then he will want me for his own personal gain. I’m not fooling myself. No matter which way you look at it, I’m here on borrowed time.” I expected Eurok to argue, but he didn’t. “I can’t wield magic, and I won’t kill for him. Not again. Not after Greggor–”

“Wait. You killed Greggor?”

I swore I sensed a ripple of his power, though when I looked at him, his features were unreadable, emotionless.

“I thought you knew.”

“No.”

A few quiet moments later, he spoke up again. “Listen, Mira, as hard as it might be for you to admit it, I know you want to be here. I won’t pretend to understand what your life was like. What I can say is that being here is something you should want. Despite whatever you tell yourself, you deserve this place.”

Deserve?

That’s the last thing that I deserve.“Why?” I asked. “You’ve hardly seen me wield a blade.”

“I saw all I needed to,” he said. “You didn’t move when you heard the adraknid, didn’t hesitate. You wanted to help, despite, as you put it, being just a human.”

I chewed my cheek at his use of my earlier words against me.

“You could have run—hidden. It would have been safer, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

I had, but I didn’t say as much.

“You were ready to fight, to protect me.” His gaze broke from mine, returning to the river below. “I’m leaving today. My duties to the druid army cannot fall lax to our mission here, but I’ll return soon. I hope to find you here when I do.”

Then he turned and left, leaving me to stare at my rippling reflection in the water below.