A Spark So Bright (The Kingdom Below #3)

Chapter 1

One

Rose

PAST

"The king has called for you!"

The shout came from outside her door, but Rose had known it was coming. She’d only been training to be a priestess for a few months, but she had noticed the smile on the king's face every time he'd seen her.

King James was in love with her—or at the very least, in love with what she could do for him. All because Rose was the prettiest girl here. She was the most charming acolyte, capable of convincing anyone to fall under her spell. Well, that was what she liked to think.

Her sister didn't agree with her. But Astrid always liked to remind her of her own failings.

Rose was too small. Her magic hadn't made itself known yet.

She was still learning how to be a priestess, and she should keep her eyes down when the king walked into the room.

She was inviting problems to their sanctuary if she didn't learn her place.

Wasn't this proof that Astrid was wrong? In just a few months, Rose had already caught the attention of the king himself. She was more than ready, while her sister wanted to hold her back.

Rushing to the door, she threw it open to see the wide-eyed stare on her best friend's features. Cassandra was a tall, lithe woman with dark hair and a thirst for adventure. They had bonded when they’d lied for each other in the kitchen at midnight.

No priestess was supposed to be out of her room at night.

All the girls were meant to be locked away, safely tucked into bed while the rest of the guards roamed.

Not Cassandra or Rose, though. They both had snuck out of their beds in the middle of the night, catching each other as they’d gone on a hunt for sweets.

Now, they were the best of friends. After all, lying to their High Priestess meant they both shared a secret.

Cassandra wore the usual white gown of the acolytes. It was shapeless, boxy, and did nothing for their figures. But they were surrounded by other women at all times, so why did it matter?

Rose gestured for her friend to come into the room, looking around the hallway for anyone else before closing the door. "The king?"

"I overheard the high priestesses talking. They want you to come with them to meet him!"

Rose glanced around her dull room, every sense vibrating with anticipation of her future. The king himself wanted to see her, and here she was, living in a dungeon like this.

All the acolyte rooms were the same. The wooden walls and wooden floors always seemed to leech the light, turning everything just slightly yellow.

Her cot was nothing special, and covered with a pale white blanket that had seen better days.

The closet in the corner was full of the same kinds of dresses that Cassandra was wearing, and there was nothing Rose could do to make them more interesting.

She had come here with nothing, after all.

Only one dirty dress that she had tried to keep clean, even though Astrid always reminded her that the more she scrubbed, the faster holes would be worn through it.

"What am I going to wear?" she asked, looking at Cassandra as though her friend might be able to help her. "The white dresses... None of them are worthy of the king.”

It wasn’t like they gave acolytes the gowns the priestesses wore, though she wished they would.

The fully trained priestesses, the ones who would soon serve the noble lords of this kingdom, were always so beautiful. Their dresses were made of silk and pearls, so luxurious they would have fed an entire village if a single one of those dresses was sold.

The priestesses were stunning and beautiful, and they were everything that Rose wanted to be. Everything she would be. No matter how long it took her, she was going to be just as stunning as them. She was going to be a priestess, and if she played her cards right, she would serve the king himself.

"We can't steal you a dress this late, so come here." Cassandra shoved her toward the cot and then started finger-combing her hair. "At the very least, you can't show up to see the king with hair full of tangles. We're going to get all these pretty gold locks looking perfect for him."

Rose always got complimented on her hair.

Even though she and her sister had been orphans on the street just a few months ago, Rose had grown her hair out for years.

It was nearly to her waist now, long and shimmering in the light.

She knew it was her best feature. So she let Cassandra comb it all the way down her back.

Cassandra whispered because there were already footsteps coming down the hall toward them. "What do you think it was that made him want you?" she whispered. "You're younger than all of us."

Maybe that was the reason. Rose had only just turned eighteen last week.

Some men liked the younger women, and she honestly didn't care if that was the reasoning.

Working for the king would put her in a position higher than anyone else.

She'd finally be important. Finally someone who mattered, not just the street urchin begging for food.

The door to her room opened, and the High Priestess walked in.

She was a stern woman with sharp features and raven-black hair that was pulled back into a high ponytail.

Like all the other women of her station, she wore a gown that was stunning to behold.

Although hers was not as revealing, it was still hand-stitched with roses that stretched up from the floor over maroon fabric that looked like blood.

Tucked at her waist, it made her look like a warrior heading into battle.

"Cassandra," the High Priestess snapped. "Should you not be in your own bedroom?"

Her friend worked through one last tangle before scampering away. "As you wish!"

But as Cassandra slipped out the door, she leaned back into the room and shot Rose a wink. A good luck wish. Together, good things had always happened to them. It was part of who Rose was.

She had good luck, Astrid always said. Rose always knew how to get out of trouble.

"The king wishes to see you." The High Priestess looked annoyed by the fact. Her face was scrunched, her nose wrinkled, and her brows drawn down. Clearly she did not like the idea of someone like Rose getting a private audience with the king.

Jealousy? Perhaps it was.

"Oh," Rose replied with a flippant wave of her hand. "Then I should go see him."

"Rose. This is very serious. You will not speak of your magic or what you can or cannot do.

The king has no place in this building, nor does he have as much power here as he likes to think.

Speak nothing of your abilities." The High Priestess pinched her nose.

"Why he seems to think he can speak to you without me present, I will never understand. "

It was absolutely jealousy. Rose straightened her back, stiffening her shoulders and looking at the High Priestess with a cool, although arrogant, expression of her own. "We'd best not keep him waiting, don't you agree?"

There was a small moment where she swore the High Priestess looked at her with pity. But that couldn't be right. This was the greatest honor an acolyte could get; even a priestess dreamt of meeting with the king and having him look at her with interest.

Yes, jealousy was all this could be.

Turning her chin up, she headed out the door as though she were leading the High Priestess.

Maybe she would be in charge soon enough.

The king would see how strong she was, how capable, and he would give her all that she had ever dreamt of.

He'd take one look at her and know without a doubt that she was worthy of all the power he could give her.

Walking through the plain halls of her new home, she ignored all the other acolytes whispering together as she walked past them.

They knew where she was going. Cassandra was quick.

So all the doors to the bedrooms were open as the girls buzzed that she was going to meet the king, the man who had prepared them all for a life of servitude and luxury.

It wasn't hard to give up their lives when they were promised so much.

The only face she didn't see was her sister's.

Astrid was barely an acolyte anymore, though.

She was so busy learning how to be a perfect priestess that Rose was certain she was studying even now.

Midnight was the only time Astrid was actually available, and by then, Rose was face down snoring in her bed.

Rose didn't want her advice in this anyway. She knew what she was doing.

She'd captured the attention of the king all on her own.

Finally, the High Priestess moved ahead of her and pointed to a doorway. That was where the king waited. That was where her life was going to change forever.

Straightening her shoulders, she plastered a pretty grin on her face. Maybe even the grin that had made the king want to speak with her.

But the High Priestess blocked her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Listen to me, little girl. There is something you should know.

The king can do what he wants with us. He can do what he wants with anyone in this kingdom.

Whatever happens to you in that room, I cannot stop from happening. But I will be here when you come out."

Rose looked into her face and noted the concern there. Wrinkles stretched out from the sides of her eyes, worry furrowing deep grooves between her brows. She really shouldn’t worry so much. It was marring her features that might have once been beautiful.

"I'll be fine," Rose replied. "You don't have to wait for me."

And then she walked into the room that was so much more opulent than her own.

A fire burned in a hearth that appeared to be made entirely out of white marble.

It was carved with the scene of a hunt, with rabbits, boar, and deer fleeing into the flames while the hunters victoriously fired arrows toward them from the top.

She might have stared at it for hours if her eyes hadn't found the king himself.

He rested on one of the many couches in the room. It was crimson red, so plush he seemed to sink into it. A goblet of wine dangled from his hand, and drops of it had spilled over the edge to drip onto the pristine white sheepskin at his feet.

He looked proud. Of her. The way his gaze moved over her body made her feel like she was special.

Like she was more than just an acolyte, and he saw the value in her.

He was so handsome. With his dark hair and square features, he was more than just a man.

He exuded every inch of power that a king should exude.

No one in the entire kingdom would ever deny that he was the right person for. .. everything.

But then her gaze flicked over to the other couch, and she realized there was another man here with the king. At her attention, the stranger stood.

He was older. Far older than she would have thought a man of his stature should be.

Though he still stood tall, with square shoulders and a strength in his spine that suggested he hadn’t only sat at a desk, he was still somehow old.

His white hair was thinning, and his features had sagged with time.

"This is her?" the man asked as he approached her.

"That's the one. I thought she might interest you."

Wait, no, that wasn't right. She had interested the king. That was why he had called her here. She wasn't here for this man she didn't recognize, and who stared at her like she was a piece of meat he was about to buy. This man looked at her as if he were ravenous, and that terrified her.

Swallowing hard, she glanced over at the king. He would reassure her that this was all some misunderstanding. All she had to do was focus on him, and he could guide her through this. He wouldn't put her in any uncomfortable situation.

But the king met her gaze with a cold, apathetic look. "I have my suspicions about her magic. Why don't you touch her, Jonathan? We'll see if I'm right."

Touch her? No, no, that wasn't what priestesses did. They didn't get touched by strange men, and they didn't have to put up with disgusting old men. She would fight. She'd bite anyone who tried.

But the man was so much bigger than she was.

When he grabbed her, there was nothing she could do to fight against him.

In a second, he had her wrapped up in his arms with his hands on her breasts.

No one had ever touched her like this, and the sheer terror was unlike anything she'd experienced before.

Something in her snapped. One moment she was in the room with them, and the next she wasn't. She was in a meadow. Flowers of every color swayed around her hips. The soft, velvety petals tickled her fingers, and she could smell sweet pollen in the air.

The sky above her head was bright blue. So vibrant it almost hurt to look at, with fluffy clouds dancing through the air. Birdsong twirled around her, wrapping around her shoulders like a shawl someone had placed there.

Safe. Comfortable.

Where was she?

Rose wandered through the endless landscape, trying to find a door or portal she must have fallen through. But there wasn’t anything here at all. Just her, the meadow, and the quiet. She was so surprised, so confused, that all the fear melted out of her.

Until she blinked, and suddenly she was staring into the king's eyes. His warm gaze looked even more pleased with her. She might have even basked in that look if her body wasn't so sore.

Why did her chest hurt? And her throat? She remembered nothing happening that would have made both ache.

The king touched a hand to her head. "What is the last thing you remember, Rose?"

Her voice was oddly raspy when she replied, "I remember you telling him to touch me."

"And nothing after that?"

"A meadow," she whispered. "All I remember is a meadow."

The pleasure and pride in his gaze seemed to grow even stronger. "Your magic is just as I hoped it would be, Rose. You and I? We're going to work together quite a bit. And don't you worry. You won't remember a thing."

She suddenly had the realization that the High Priestess hadn't been jealous at all.

Her pinched expression really had been worry.

True, honest worry. Not for herself or her position, but because she must have known that Rose walking into this room with these two men meant she might not come back out.

As the king gestured for her to follow them, to leave out a door that led her away from the safety of the priestesses, Rose realized that her life was about to change.

And not for the better, as she had thought.