Chapter Fourteen
E ight days after…everything, Sterling finally caught me. It followed an especially long council meeting.
Each member of the fae council, along with myself and Xavier, attended the weekly meetings. We all sat at a long wooden table that had a map of the entire world carved into it, with Xavier at one head and myself at the other. As the future queen, I had been a part of the council since leaving Academy. Xavier led the group, as each king before him had done. I would lead it one day, no matter what my husband-to-be believed.
Traditions could be broken.
The rest of the room was covered in smaller maps, thorough as they could be, as well as any and all information regarding the Fae Realm. Each member of the council had dedicated desk space lining the four walls to prepare, store, and organize their information. On the double doors was the sigil of the Fae Realm, a shield with the infinite symbol of Eternity on it. Everything was painted gold, just like the rest of the palace.
Many arguments came from the discussions. The Prime of Coin, a Fire named Graham Raymonds, was often at the center of these disagreements, and it was no different this time.
Graham had made a sly comment regarding the newly appointed Prime of Agriculture, Davina Yarrow, who was an Earth. Normally the position went to a Healer, as Isle Healer was where most farmlands were in our realm.
As expected, Davina did not take it well. She was young for a Prime, barely three hundred and fifty years. Graham on the other hand, was well over a millennium, and thought himself superior to all but Xavier, even me. When Davina shot branches as thick as full tree trunks at Graham, who then set them aflame, Xavier looked to me. Unlike Mia, my father figure thought of me as a diplomat, a leader, a strength. Our bond was strong because of it, as he made me feel purpose, though he was still quick to dismantle that confidence with the strike of a hand if I stepped out of line. That was the way of the Fires. They were strong-willed and enjoyed control, a perfect example being Graham.
So, when the fight broke out and the power of everyone at the table began to simmer, giving a heaviness to the air, I stood. “Enough!” I shouted, raising my arms, palms facing the two Elements.
Sit. Silence. Breathe.
The two sat, mouths shut and eyes wide. Ishani Bhatt started visibly shaking on my left, and a silence filled with terror engulfed the space.
“You are not younglings, you are members of the fae council. Everything you do, every word you say, holds weight and merit. You do not have the benefit of making mistakes,” I said, allowing my audible voice to drop to the tenor of my mental one. “Heed this warning, your strength and cunning put you in this seat, but I have no qualms with removing you from it. Each of you possess power and knowledge unlike any other in your respective land, now act like it.”
Slowly, I sat back down, letting my glare rest on each of them, moving over Tish faster than the others. When my eyes met Xavier’s, he was grinning ear to ear.
Still, it was exhausting. On the best day I merely tolerated the idea of becoming queen. Though it gave my life meaning, a reason as to why Eternity put me here, it was also a burden. I would rule a realm of fae who feared, despised, or worshiped me, none of which were preferable. The rest of my life would consist of this same thing, manipulating minds to get what I wanted, and being either loved or hated for it.
Which was why these meetings wore through my joy, and I was on a very low supply of it already.
Ignazio Salvatore, the Royal Tomorrow who was also Nicola’s father, spoke of the prophecy Nicola had dreamt of the night prior. I was not fully listening anymore, a wave of pain sweeping across my eyes and temples. He mentioned something about a great power and said that Nicola was rather disturbed by it.
Many Tomorrows had been upset upon discovering that Nicola was planning to marry Kafele, as she would then cross Reader River and live within the Yesterday Lands, forfeiting her ability to hold any other position of power. Xavier once told me that Nicola was the most powerful Tomorrow he had ever met or heard of, far surpassing her father and my mother. Ignazio was enraged when Kafele proposed, going as far as to beg Xavier to forbid the union.
The king had refused to do so.
Eventually Ignazio accepted Nicola’s choice, and instead had her aiding the fae council by sharing her readings and prophesies. It was a compromise she had been more than happy to make, and Ignazio never failed to bring more information from her to each of these discussions, always giving credit to his daughter.
When we finally left the meeting room, the council quickly dispersing, I saw Sterling leaning against a wall. He stood casually with one leg bent at an angle, his foot pressed flat against the golden wall. I cringed at the sight of him, which made his smile grow. To him, he had the advantage between us. What he did to me made him stronger in his eyes, a dominant figure.
He was wrong.
I would not let him see how broken he made me. The pleasure of knowing I lie awake at night, plagued by memories of his touch, would not be his. Let him think he had the upper hand, let him believe he was above me. I would show him just how wrong he was.
“Hello, beautiful,” Sterling said with a joy that told me he was remorseless.
Holding in any further displays of emotion, I nodded to him and walked on. I knew he would follow, but still I was taken aback as I felt his hand grip my shoulder and turn me around. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
“So sad that such a gorgeous canvas was forever ripped,” he whispered, his pointer finger running across the flat top of my ear.
My eyes darted around the hallways, making sure everyone had scurried off to get to work and avoid angering me again. Then, with a wicked smile, I reached out and traced my thumb across Sterling’s bottom lip. His eyes went wide as I touched his full pink mouth. Then, I slowly slid the tips of my fingers down his jaw, his neck, his torso, until finally I reached his growing erection.
With no hesitation I grabbed it, squeezing not for pleasure, but for pain. Then, I latched onto his mind, scratching and clawing to make him all the more aware I was there. He shrieked in pain, and I felt a wave of nausea wash through him. There was a strange taste to his mind, earthy and distinctly animal.
“Listen here you little wretch,” I seethed, my hot breath puffing into his rounded ear. “I know you think yourself invincible after that little stunt you pulled, but I would like to remind you who I am. I am the heir to the fae throne. I am The Manipulator. I am the holder of minds and the breaker of souls. Feared by even the strongest of fae. I can end you with a mere thought. I am your superior in every way, and one day I will be the queen which you cower before.”
Just to prove my point, or perhaps to simply be cruel, I released my grip on his penis but tightened my hold on his mind.
Bow.
Sterling leaned forward, making a truly pathetic attempt.
I said BOW.
Lower he leaned, practically folding in half. Tears streamed down his face. Five days ago, I would have felt guilty, but as he wept there—that smug smile finally gone—I felt nothing but pure triumph.
Bend the knee, mortal.
Sterling crashed to his knees, so similar to the way I fell that night, the resounding crack giving me déjà vu that was both painful and exhilarating.
“Touch me again, dear fiancé, and I will show you why they tell horror stories of me to children and younglings who misbehave,” I said, my voice still full of that deeper tenor that forced others to do my bidding.
As if this moment could not get any better, a small puddle formed around the golden-haired mortal. I laughed then, an evil, throaty sound that confirmed I was every bit the monster my subjects thought I was.
Today I was okay with that, proud of it.
“Asher!” I heard a furious voice call from behind me. I turned slowly, knowing who it was and dreading the consequences I would face. Mia stood a few paces away, her expression livid. She did a quick jog to close the space, shoving me out of the way and leaning down to Sterling. “Release him,” she ordered me, the threat in her voice deadly.
Immediately, I obeyed. The moment I dropped my hold on Sterling, his upper half hit the golden marble, crumpling as consciousness left him. Mia slowly turned her head towards me, and when our eyes met, I saw something I never had before—hatred. With a snap of her fingers, thorned vines wrapped around my arms and torso, shredding both my golden dress and my flesh. A yelp of pain escaped my lips before I silenced myself.
“How dare you lay your hands on him, Asher, he is to be your husband!” She raged, her hands flying in the air as she spoke. I wanted to hold my ground, to ask her why he went unpunished after he attacked me. Instead, my head tilted towards the floor, eyes averting her gaze.
In my heart I knew that I did not want to disappoint Mia, the female who raised me, guided me, loved me. But how many times had I thrown up into the toilet when my shirt grazed my skin and brought memories of his touch? How many times a night did I wake up screaming for help to find that waking up was the true nightmare? He deserved pain. More than that, Sterling was owed death. My power urged me on, built up from that well in my chest, and simmered.
I held tight to every ounce of control I possessed, trying to leash the fury before I murdered the boy prince and found myself dead too. Mia shouted orders at her handmaidens, who ran to fetch Tish. Guards who heard the commotion finally deemed the issue in need of their presence, looks of disbelief on their face when they saw the blood-soaked vines around me and Sterling on the floor unconscious.
“Take her to her room in the low level,” she ordered one of the guards, who immediately grabbed my entwined hands to guide me away. “I think that Asher needs to be reminded of her place.”
***
The walk to my second room was excruciating. Not only because of the thorns slashing through my skin, but also because I knew that Mia would have Xavier come for me. My low level room was where I was sentenced when I misbehaved enough to warrant this extent of punishment. It was rare, but not unheard of.
We got to the room with the wooden door, and I sighed in relief. The magic used on this space, an ancient kind even I was not privy to the knowledge of, created a sort of barrier. Once I passed the threshold my powers were siphoned from me. Each minute in here was painful, but the thorns were worse. I gladly walked in, every vine falling to the floor and instantly withering. My old, black bed still sat in the corner, familiar in the worst way. Nothing else, save for an assortment of my toys from my youth, resided in the room.
This part of the castle was the sole space left untouched by the gold, still the original gray of the rock in which the palace was built. The only paint that graced these walls was used to sketch ancient runes, most likely that which fueled the magic. They were different than the language of The Old Ones, far more ominous in appearance.
I turned back towards the guards, who stood watching me from the doorway, their fear prominent on their faces. “I apologize, but I cannot recall if either of you are a Fire?”
My teeth clenched, that hollowing feeling of my powers draining sending a steady flow of pain throughout my body. I would not last long in here without succumbing to the fatigue and agony. A small fire from outside of the door could make the situation a little less horrid.
“No, My Princess, we are not,” the taller of the two said, his shaggy brown hair swaying with his head. I let out a long-suffering sigh, my shoulders slumping with the weight of the day, and the week.
“Well that is rather unfortunate seeing as it is colder down here than the soul of the lovely Prince Sterling,” I murmured. One of the guards, the taller fae who had spoken before, attempted to disguise his laugh with a cough. That made me smile, but barely. Then the smaller, younger fae stepped forward. His baby blue eyes and blonde hair gave him a sort of innocence that was different than most of the guards. In fact both of them seemed unfamiliar and out of place.
“Servants talk, Your Highness, and I think it imperative you are made aware that those in the castle know the truth of your attack,” he spoke with conviction. Behind him, the other guard stood straighter. “You are our future Queen, the one whose power will guide us into a new age. You are our protector, and we are yours. The prince will never lay another finger on you so long as we are here,” he declared, one hand falling to the hilt of his sword, the other forming a fist over his heart.
“Your kindness and devotion are both duly noted,” I responded. My smile was worn, exhausted, but it was the best I could call forth. Just then, steps sounded from above, and I knew my time of simple happiness was over. “However, it seems safety is fleeting. I thank you, but I beg of you to never speak those words to me or anyone again.” Quickly, I pushed the guards out of the room, popping my own body out enough to shove into their minds.
The king comes, no matter what you hear from this room, stay still and stay silent.
Both guards’ eyes widened at the sound of my voice in their minds, the taller one shivering. I made a mental note to ask their names when this was over. Right on cue, the tune of Xavier’s boots rang down the long, stone hall. I pulled the heavy wooden door shut on myself and heard the click of the bolt as the two locked it. I peered through the bars on the door and gave a small smile followed by a quick nod.
“Good afternoon, Luca, Cyprus,” Xavier said, his voice stoic and kind. My teeth ground together as I prepared for a vastly different tone when he entered this room. At least I knew their names now. Rushing to the bed, nearly tripping as I attempted to navigate in the dark, I sat in the corner with my eyes facing down. I pulled my knees to my chest and waited.
Chills ran down my spine as the menacing tune of the door creaking open hit my ears. Xavier slammed it shut, shaking the small cot of a bed. Still, I looked down. My breath hitched as he approached, it had been so long since I was brought here that the fear almost felt foreign. When he stopped in front of me, his golden boots glowing in the light of the fae fire he left floating behind the bars, I at last looked up into his eyes, seeing the storm-raged waters.
“What were you thinking, Ash?” he asked. His disappointment was that of a father to his daughter, but I knew that my punishment would go far beyond familial. This would be a king punishing his subject. More than anything, I wanted to explain to Xavier what Sterling did to me, how I was abused at his hand. When I tried with Mia, I thought perhaps she would help me, but I was wrong. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew that Xavier would not either. Which was why defending myself, attempting to make him the pleased father he seemed in that meeting, would be futile.
“I apologize, My King,” I replied. The tears registered before the pain as Xavier’s hand made contact with my cheek. My head snapped to the side, and I wondered how far this would go. Begging and pleading were pointless, that much I knew from experience.
“Apologies will not fix what you have done, you insolent female. Have I not loved you? Have I not given you everything, including my kingdom? Have I not treated you as an equal to that of my most trusted council members? Just today, I watched proudly as you handled strife amongst some of the strongest fae to ever exist. Yet here you sit, apologizing for attacking your betrothed as if the issue is not far greater than a simple accident or misguided decision.” Every word hurled my way stung just as deeply as the slap.
“Sterling is traumatized, he sits in the infirmary shaking as if he were in the middle of a blizzard in the Tomorrow Lands. He has confided that he is prepared to end the engagement. One, need I remind you, that our subjects are relying on to ensure their safety,” he fumed. A small part of me was eager to know that I might yet relieve myself of the abusive boy, but the far greater part of me cowered in dread and despair. If I failed to marry Sterling, then I likely doomed the fae.
Xavier leaned down, his hot breath hitting my face. “Sterling is willing to allow this transgression to go unpunished, but he requests a lofty price.” A price? What could he possibly want? “You will wed tomorrow, no delays or arguments. You will resign your position on the council and forfeit it to him. Moreover, you will wear a blocker.”
As Xavier spoke, he pulled out a thin, brown band. I knew that on the underside would be the same markings that littered the room, because this band held the same magic, but on a condensed and far more potent scale.
I gasped, horrified at the sight of the bracelet. I had the same one as a youngling due to how unpredictable and dangerous I was with my newfound powers.
Occasionally, Xavier would have me tear into the mind of a traitor or a criminal, my job being to recover the truth and prove the scoundrel guilty. More often though, I was ordered to publicly shatter the minds of fae who fraternized, like I had the day after my ball. I was a murderer that claimed to have a conscience, a moral code of sorts. But at least I had the strength to manage only taking life when I was told. As a youngling, I had killed more than I cared to remember before they finally deemed it necessary for me to wear the thick leather band around my wrist. It was meant to be a fail-safe, a last case scenario.
“For how long?” I dared ask, shaking with the memories of how painful it was to wear a blocker day in and day out. The way my body would convulse, the eternal fatigue, the extreme weight loss, the unbreakable fevers. We thought I might die if I did not stop wearing it. Which was why I spent the majority of my first years with powers training relentlessly, obsessively.
“For as long as he wishes you to,” Xavier proclaimed, his casual shrug conveying the words he would not say—his pleasure is worth your pain, Asher. “Now stand, we have to make quick work of this.”
I stood, and as I took the beating, the one I knew in my heart I deserved, I wept for the life I once dreamt of but would never have.