Chapter 14
Fourteen
Rana - 13 years old
“ H appy birthday, beautiful.”
Happy for who ? Not for me, that’s for sure.
Groaning, I swat at my mother, burrowing myself deep into my comforter. “I’d be a lot happier if I could sleep in.”
Elated, actually.
I know what happens after I get out of this bed, and I am without a doubt, not looking forward to it.
“Up with you,” my mother chuckles, yanking away the warmth of my safe haven and letting the cold air bombard my exposed skin. A squeak escapes me, fingers desperately searching for something to cover myself back up with. The fabric slips through my fingers along with the hopes of evading the day—I accept defeat.
“Fine, fine. I’m getting up.”
Reluctantly, I open my eyes, slowly focusing on the presence of my father. He’s standing in the doorway laughing at the whole ordeal—a rare occurrence. Grasped between his large terracotta hands is a golden cup, steam billows from the top carrying the sweet and spicy scent of my favorite drink— spiced coco. A brief moment of excitement overtakes me as I jump from the bed straight to him, snatching the drink from his hands. The pads of my fingers meet the metal, nearly melting away from the heat. Flinching away with a hiss, the cup slips from my grip sending the blistering liquid over the side. Like a strike of lightning, my father reaches out, catching the coco before it can hit the ground.
The softness that greeted me is now gone, and the King’s harsh gaze of judgment has been set in its place. “You wouldn’t have to worry about burning your hands if you would be practicing harder. You’re from the strongest fire bloodline in Incedis! Prove to me that elemental magic truly runs through your veins.”
The scalding drink is shoved back at me, splashing my father’s hand in the process—I take it without a single complaint. Forcing a smile, I take a single sip. Oh, dear gods! My lips beg for me to stop and my throat tries to restrict the liquid from going down, but I grit through.
“I’m sorry Father, I will be better,” I choke out between coughs.
He leers down his straight nose at me, brows furrowed. “I would hope so, Rana. It’s your thirteenth birthday and if these issues aren’t fixed by the end of the ceremony…,” He pauses, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “Frankly, I'm not sure what I’m going to do with you.” With that warning, he gives me his back, striding out the door.
I’ve been dreading this day since my family realized I don’t possess any fire traits—a disgrace to our highborn name. By age five, my brother, Cairo, could walk through a roaring blaze and come out unharmed. By ten he could summon fire with the snap of his fingers. And on the day of his thirteenth birthday, his flaming wings unfurled, larger than his body.
Cairo is everything that I’m not—smart, talented, perfect, and wanted.
“Oh Ra, don’t listen to him. He’s just a grumpy old man who wants the glory of being King but none of the responsibilities. He’s always so worried what everyone else thinks,” my mother coos, running her long ivory fingers over my frizzy curls.
I didn’t even hear her coming.
“He hates me. I’ll never be the perfect Naar.”
Taking me by the shoulders, my mother spins me around, a warm smile gracing her lips. “You already are, Rana.”
Tears line her amber eyes as the tip of her nose reddens. “I wish your grandparents were here to see what a wonderful young lady you have grown to be. I know they would tell you how proud they are to call you a Thorin. Never forget that there are two bloodlines that course through you.”
I was very young when my grandparents died, but I will always remember the love they emanated. Every time they walked into a room, they brought a calmness that could never be replicated. The night they died was the first and last time I have been to Zephyr. Even with the heavy sorrow that filled the air, it felt less dense than home.
Wrapping my arms around my mother’s thin frame, her wings drop, resting on my hands. With a pointed ear pressed to her chest I can hear her heart race. “I miss them too.”
“Promise me something, Ra,” she says through a shuttered breath.
“Anything.”
“When the day comes that I leave this earthly plane, know that I never stopped believing in you. Promise me that you will always be true to who you are and know that blood is not what rules you.”
Pulling my head away, I stare at her wide eyed. Why would she be saying something like this? What is she not telling me? Let’s be honest, there’s not much anyone tells me.
“Even if I never get my wings? Even if I’m burned by the fire? Even if I never get my magic?”
Kissing the tip on my pointed nose she nods. “Yes, my sweet baby, because you don’t need any of those things to be amazing.”
I force a smile to make her happy, but the reality is my father would rather watch me burn than have a failure for a daughter.
After bathing and dressing, I make my way to the great hall. Gold and rubies adorn the whole room, making it glisten in the morning sunlight. The table is covered in breads and fruits, pitchers of wine, and different meats. A grotesque amount of food for four beings.
Against the wall there are flamboyantly wrapped gifts piled almost as high as the vaulted ceilings—offerings from the town’s beings. Such a waste of precious resources if you ask me. These beings live nothing like we do on top of this mountain. Father looks down at them in disgust, while mother sneaks off to help them.
“Princess Rana, there you are!” Amir, our head of staff, walks toward me with a wide smile and gift in hand. “Happy birthday, darling. It’s not much but I couldn’t pass it up.”
“Thank you, Amir. You didn’t have to get me anything,” I say gratefully, taking the box from him.
“I’m well aware of that, Princess, but you only turn thirteen once,” he replies with a grin. “Go ahead, open it.”
Pulling the tail of the red bow, the ribbon falls over the sides of my hand leaving a simple brown box. I know whatever is under this lid will be special, because while Amir may not have money, he has talent. A craftsman at heart.
“Rana, we've been waiting over an hour for you! And you know how much I hate waiting.” My father’s voice rings throughout the vast room.
“I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll open it after breakfast.” I give Amir a small smile before handing back the gift. Dipping my head I scurry to my seat, which is promptly pulled out by one of the servants. “I’m sorry, Father.”
He huffs at me before taking a bite from a rueberry.
From across the table, Ciaro glares daggers at me. “Thank the gods the princess is here. I’m fucking starving.”
“Language!” My mother scolds him, smacking his hand away from the pile of meat. “It’s your sister’s birthday. She should choose first.”
Quickly grabbing a few pieces of fruit and bread, I nod toward my brother. “Take whatever you want. I’m fine with this.”
“Good choice little sister, your dresses look like they’ve been straining to keep you in,” he snickers, grabbing handfuls of food like a wild beast.
Instantly my dark cheeks flush with embarrassment. Clutching my little belly, I dig my fingernails in through the fabric. I wish I could just rip it off my body. I wish it was perfectly flat like the other girls in the palace. Being as short as I am, every pound shows. Princesses should be the image of beauty and grace, not a barrel of lard.
My mother’s face twists up in disgust. “Cairo Lucian Naar! Apologize to your sister right now! There is nothing wrong with her weig?—.”
Father quickly cuts her off. “He’s not wrong, Erika. Rana could lose a few pounds. I’m not sure she’ll even fit into her ceremonial gown,” he adds lazily, shrugging his shoulders.
My chair scrapes across the floor as I push myself away from the table, no longer hungry. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be in this prison of a castle.
I can’t wait for tonight to be over. Maybe then I won’t be the butt of the joke.