Chapter 4 #2
Wren’s eyes darted away from me, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she stood near the door.
Dacre and Kai sauntered over to the small group, their heads leaned toward one another’s as they spoke.
I squared my shoulders and strode toward the line, ignoring the glances and whispers from those around us.
I looked over the faces of the seven people lined up, but I didn’t recognize any of them. They had to be from Marmoris to be lined up here, but the people of my kingdom didn’t know me.
They knew a name, a character that stories were told about.
But I was nothing more than the princess my father kept hidden, the one he refused to concede as his heir.
My gaze met the man who was closest to me, and his eyes widened as he looked upon me. My stomach clenched as I slowly stepped toward him.
I didn’t recognize him, but I could feel the intensity of his stare radiating from him like heat. It made me pause as I tried not to reveal how nervous I was.
“Princess?”
My heart raced as his voice reached me, barely more than a whisper. I slowly turned my head toward him, scarcely daring to believe this was happening; he seemed to understand the raw fear in my expression.
“I’m not who you think I am.”
He locked his eyes on mine, a fierce determination burning within them.
But when Dacre stepped forward, the man’s gaze flicked away from me, revealing a hint of fear that was coursing through me.
Mal moved to Dacre’s side and offered him a parchment, which he scanned quickly before returning his attention back to us.
“Welcome to the rebellion,” Dacre said, his voice commanding the attention of everyone in the room. There was no trace of the welcome in his hard gaze.
The man next to me shifted his feet, but I kept my gaze glued forward.
“Some of you are here by your own free will, but for those of you who aren’t, allow me to enlighten you. The Marmoris Kingdom’s protection ends the moment you step down from that mountain they’re perched on. You’re in Enveilorian land now. You either stand with us or die by our blades.”
Dacre’s voice rumbled like thunder, shaking the air around us. His eyes were cold as steel, his broad shoulders squared in a determined stance.
“We don’t allow King Roan’s snakes to move through our land to the southern coast. You either fight with us against his tyranny or you become a traitor to us all.”
My heart thudded in my chest and sweat prickled on my brow. He couldn’t be serious, could he?
The man beside me spoke, and I tensed. “We will never join you filthy traitors. King Roan is the only true ruler.”
“Yet, you run from his tithe?” Dacre cocked his head, and the move reminded me of a predator.
“I will return to the capital city, but I have no magic to spare for my king.”
The man had barely finished speaking when Dacre flung his arm forward and released a dagger I hadn’t even noticed him grab. It flew through the air with a sharp whistle before embedding itself into the man’s neck.
The sudden noise made me flinch, and something warm and wet hit my cheek. I glanced down at my cloak and saw blood mixing into the still-wet fabric. My fingers trembled as I tried to wipe it away, but it only smeared and spread wider.
A ragged cry came from someone off to my left, followed by muffled sobs as the man’s body slumped to the ground.
My breaths came in shallow, ragged pants as I stared down at the lifeless body. I jerked my gaze away and Dacre’s eyes locked onto mine, and I could see something veiled flickered in their depths.
He clenched his jaw and glared, his eyes like burning embers. “We have no tolerance for supporters of the crown,” he growled. His words seemed to echo in the room as the air grew thick with tension. “You join us or you share his fate.”
My vision blurred as I looked down the line of those who stood with me. Everyone had grown eerily quiet and stood as if frozen in place.
My heart raced, pounding against my rib cage as I looked back to Dacre.
His jaw clenched tight, and his eyebrows furrowed, creating a stoic mask on his face.
Every inch of my body shook with fear and rage as I watched his cold, calculating eyes, witnessing the nonchalance with which he took the life of another.
How many lives had he taken just tonight?
My thoughts drifted to my father and the atrocities he had committed in his pursuit of power. The innocent people he hurt, the lies he spread.
Our world was filled with cruelty, and guilt gnawed at me knowing that it was because of him that brutality and anguish thrived in our kingdom.
He had afflicted our people with such suffering that they were forced to create this rebellion that I now stood before, then punished them for not celebrating his tyranny.
He had turned them into monsters.
“Name?” Dacre nodded to the first person in the line, the one farthest from me.
“Irina.” The woman’s chin trembled as she spoke. “I am the wife of…was the wife of a farmer.”
Dacre kept his composure, but his eyes betrayed him. They darted over her face, taking in every detail with a mixture of sadness and yearning. “And your choice?” He said it so simply as if the woman’s life wasn’t on the line.
“King Roan killed my husband.” She raised her chin, and there wasn’t a trace of that trembling left as anger filled her eyes. “He couldn’t pay the tithe, and he murdered him for it.”
My throat tightened as Dacre clenched his jaw, but he didn’t say a word.
“I want to join.” The determination in Irina’s voice was so clear, it seemed to echo off the walls and draw everyone’s attention. Her mouth was set in a thin line, her hands balled into fists at her sides, and the light in her eyes burned with passion.
“Your magic.” Dacre studied her intently as she raised her brows in confusion. “We need to know what magic you possess so we can know where you will be most useful here.”
My hands formed into fists at my sides.
Irina’s eyes roamed the room for a moment before they settled back on Dacre. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled and murmured almost inaudibly, “I have earth magic.”
“Good,” Dacre replied, his face softening slightly. “We could use more of that.” He looked over his shoulder toward an older man with dark skin and hair as white as freshly fallen snow. “You’ll go with Calix. He’s the head of devising.”
Irina moved toward the man without a trace of hesitation in her steps.
Dacre quickly turned to the next person in line, a boy with sandy hair and large eyes the color of the sea, who looked barely old enough to grow a beard, let alone join a rebellion. “Name and station.”
The boy’s throat bobbed as he nervously swallowed, his eyes wide and frantic as he searched the room. “Cedric Fallon, sir.”
Dacre raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing.
“Where are you from, Cedric?”
Cedric’s wild-eyed gaze swept the room repeatedly as if trying to find something invisible to everyone else. He stood silent and still for a moment, his thoughts obviously elsewhere, before he said softly, “My father. He was taken by the rebellion over a year ago now.”
Dacre’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, and a heavy feeling of dread filled me. “What’s your father’s name?”
“Ammon,” Cedric answered quickly.
Dacre looked over at Kai, and he came to Dacre’s side instantly before they spoke in hushed tones that I couldn’t make out.
“Follow Kai.” Dacre nodded in his direction. “He’ll take you.”
Anger lit in my veins. Was Cedric’s father alive, or had they simply thrown a dagger at that man’s neck because he hadn’t wanted to betray his kingdom?
But Cedric didn’t ask these questions. He moved quickly behind Kai and followed him out the door I just entered through moments before. I watched his every step as he left. Not paying a bit of attention to Dacre or the next person he questioned.
My stomach churned and my skin prickled with dread as I watched the boy disappear from my sight.
Dacre continued down the line, questioning and assigning people where he deemed appropriate.
There were healers, another whose magic relied on the earth, and one who could manipulate the elements.
It was only a matter of time before Dacre reached me, and even as I tried to focus on the words he was saying to them, there was only one thought that kept running through my mind.
I was going to die.
I had no magic to offer their cause. Even if they never found out who I truly was, I served them no purpose.
“And you?” Dacre gingerly stepped around the man’s body that was still lying on the ground beside me and moved directly in front of me, blocking my view.
His dark eyes were cold as he glowered down at me, and his jaw was clenched so tightly I could see the muscles moving beneath his skin. I held my chin high, hoping the resolve on my face matched the disdain in his.
“What about me?” I gritted my teeth as I answered him.
“Name?” His face was a mask of suspicion as he cocked his head to the side and waited for my response.
I could almost taste the syllables of my name on my tongue, but as soon as they came close enough to say, I bit them back until I could taste the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth.
“Nyra.” My voice trembled as I spoke my mother’s name, a name that had been forgotten the moment they called her queen. A name no one seemed to remember when they laid her beneath the cold dirt and stripped her title away to give to another.
It took my father a mere few days to find another woman to have at his side.
A woman to bear him a true heir.
A woman who would never be my queen.
I could still feel the lashings my father had delivered across my back when I had refused to bow before her in the wake of my mother’s death.
“And why did the King’s Guard have you locked in that cell?” Dacre’s eyes were dark and unwavering, his gaze locking on to mine with intensity. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, fighting the urge to turn away as I held his stare.