Chapter 11
Pandora Hart: Sixteen years old
The body lands with a thud on the floor after Mother pulls the knife out.
I eye the livid look of disgust registering on her face, and then the pale loss of colour on the neighbour’s face.
Before this happened, she was helping Mother with cooking a Sunday roast. One moment, they were laughing.
Next, Tiffany spoke ill of Dad, and Mum snapped.
Sure, I mean, why not stab the fucking neighbour? Talking it out is overrated, right?
“Our yard’s not big enough for another body,” I gripe.
Mother soaks the knife in warm water. “Not with an attitude like that, Pandora. Be a good girl and help me take her to the yard.”
I gaze at the dead woman and find it strange that my heart doesn’t race, nor is there a trace of remorse.
Often, I wonder if it’s due to how my parents raised me.
This isn’t my first time seeing a dead body, and it won’t be my last. Still, I know my reaction is out of place when Typha comes downstairs with her hands covering her mouth and going as pale as a ghost upon seeing the corpse in the kitchen.
Is there something wrong with me?
Sometimes, I dream about what it would be like to be Typha. I’d hang out with friends, listen to music, sneak out to parties, and live a more lively life instead of following Dad to his work and grabbing guns for fun.
“Pandora,” Mother snaps, crouching over the body as she pulls the neighbour by the legs. “Help me.”
I grab the arms, and as I shuffle out the back door, my mind transports me back to the kitchen, where the neighbour called Dad pathetic for not sealing the deal with Typha and the water elemny prince.
The disdain for my dad, expressed in a pitiful comment, set Mother in motion, and the knife was there in her hands, ready to use against the unfortunate ice elemny who thought it wise to speak ill of my dad.
Ice elemny have barbaric tendencies.
I drop her body in the yard, and Mother opens the shack, grabs a shovel, and hands it to me.
“You’re not gonna help me?” I stab the spear's end into the ground and shovel the clump of snow to the side.
“I need to crystallise the body. Otherwise, the rot will attract stray animals in the area,” Mother says.
As I dig a hole, I watch Mother. She claps her hands together, and pink essence slithers from her fingertips. My jaw drops as the ice slips over the neighbour’s skin, encasing her in a solid pink cocoon.
The power Mother possesses surrounds her, and once the woman is enveloped, the pink light crumbles into dust.
Does her body decay, or is it eternal?
“How?” I breathe.
Mother dusts her hands of the snow, turns to me, and says, “When you’re older, your father and I will teach you how to crystallise the ice into Pink Ice.”
“Can we all do that?”
“No. Not everyone can wield such power. Start training young. That’s why your father brings you to work. He’s getting you ready to learn how to manipulate Pink Ice.”
“What else does it do?”
Mother eyes me and then looks away. “It can block memories.”
“Huh…crazy.” I shovel more snow as I say, “Where is Dad again?”
“He’s at the Sleeping Willow in the Willow Gardens. He has business with the Tucker family, but they don’t trust your father enough to let him into the Kingdom of Oria. So, they went to the free city to settle their business.”
I grimace. “Why does everyone hate Dad?”
“Because they fear him,” Mother says, pushing the neighbour’s crystallised body into the hole. “And so, hate is born from the fear he gives off. If it hadn’t been for his connection with King Ragan, someone would’ve assassinated your father by now.”
“Dad can’t die. He’s too strong.”
Mother chuckles. “Remember my words, sweetheart. Every powerful man has a woman handling the dirty work behind closed doors.”
I point to the body and say, “Is this the dirty work?”
“When you marry, you’ll also gain an endless list of enemies to shield your husband from. And you’ll soon discover that men are the face, while we are the dagger in the back.”
I shake my head and scoff. “I don’t want to get married. The boys here are arseholes, and I doubt the rest of Eraminia has much to offer.”
“You will have to marry after your mission.”
“And what mission is that again?”
She shakes her head and says, “It’s too early to discuss it openly. Just know that your father has plans for you to marry soon after, and you’re not to resist. Follow the orders he gives you. If you don’t, you’ll end up dead.”
“Is he an arsehole?” I persist. “And if he is, can I kill him?”
Mother grins as she says, “He’s a mutt, but this mutt has power, and we need to control it.”
I roll my eyes as I stomp on the suspicious lump in the backyard. “Great. While I get a mutt, Typha’s marrying the heir to the throne.”
“This mutt is worth more than Typha marrying King Ragan’s son.”
“Why?” I persist.
“I’ve said too much. Put the shovel away. Let’s eat dinner.”
I drag my hand down my face and groan. Said too much! Ha! She barely said anything.
The idea of getting married makes me feel queasy. I struggle to talk to boys. They objectify me and see me as the meat they want to tenderise.
I hate it. I don’t want to be used as a prop or a puppet. Every step I take feels like my own, but in reality, my parents entice me into situations, and it’s…
Whatever.
Orders are orders, and if Dad wants me to marry after my mission, I’ll do as I’m told.
Like I always seem to do.
July 8th
On that fateful night, the Kingdom of Crystal was reduced to burning cinders. Memories suppressed by the power of Pink Ice shattered and have haunted me ever since the killings, murders, ruthless slaughter, and the selling of their teenage daughter.
My parents organised for me to marry the Prince of fucking Fire. The mutt in the system is filled with deception and games. Does the prince himself know about their dealings?
Likely not.
The deal was between power-hungry parents. He wouldn’t know me.
Pushing Typha off to Prince Walkyer wasn’t enough. They needed their younger daughter to be the assassin in the shadows—the ruthless killing machine who could sway the other brother until we ruled the kingdoms.
But now, even with my freedom, it seems I’ve crossed paths with the one prince I wanted to avoid: the hunter of Eraminia—the cold, calculated, and intelligent fire elemny who thirsts for a kill. A mutt chasing a bone. He won’t stop until he has hunted me down and devoured me whole.
Fuck. I royally screwed up if Nancy thinks he’s hunting me.
As I sift through my memories, I analyse every movement I had made, like peeling dead flesh off a wound to uncover the source of his hunt.
The more I pry, the more faults I find in myself.
Though my fingers dug into my purse, I kept my eyes downcast instead of fawning over him like every other obsessed fan.
Ultimately, I set myself apart from everyone else by trying to seem disinterested.
Was I supposed to get down on my knees and beg to suck him off instead? The fuck?
The distant voices of Xavier, Sara, and Kylie return as I pull myself out of my thoughts.
“…Spare bedroom for you and Kylie to stay in,” Xavier says.
“Panda and I will sleep in my old room.” He smirks at me, a suggestive grin that screams, “We’re having sex tonight”.
If that’s the case, she will send me spiralling into my head again.
My mental state can’t handle anyone touching me at all. Just like the night when…
Deep breaths.
“You told your parents we could stay at yours, yeah?” Sara says. This is the third time she’s brought it up since Xavier invited her, and I can tell it’s her earthly emotions seeping through.
“They’re the ones who suggested I invite all my friends,” he says with a wave. “My parents want my awakening night to be special. They want everyone to come—even my grandparents.”
It’s hard not to stifle a laugh at the “all of my friends” comment. Two friends and a pretend girlfriend. Xavier, that’s a bit…Never mind, it’s not. I have no real fucking friends. What am I on about?
“That sounds like so much fun!” Sara leans forward to look at me. “Are you excited, Panda?”
The nickname has officially bled into her mind from Kylie, and I have no one to blame besides that vagina-hungry guy walking beside me.
I arch my back, perk up, and wrap my arms around Xavier’s arm, saying in an adoring, loving voice, “Of course! It’ll be a magical night!”
I still need an alibi for the four hours before Xavier’s awakening. There’s no doubt I need to keep an eye on it. But if I can get a few hours beforehand to take down King Ragan, everything will go smoothly. I just need to deal with Kylie and Sara first.
“I might go shopping before your awakening,” I say, planting little seeds.
“We can come with you!” Kylie says. “It will be fun to explore!”
“Sure. But I might not explore for long with the two of you,” I say, letting the blush creep in. “I want to buy something for Xavier, but it’s a private…thing.”
Sara and Kylie eye each other. Smirks settle on their mouths.
“Yeah, we’ll leave you to it,” Kylie says. “But don’t go overboard. You might give him a heart attack.”
I bloody hope so.
Xavier leans in closer and whispers, “What do they mean?”
“You’ll find out on the night, won’t you?” I say in a suggestive tone. It seems to have caused a red flush on his face. He pinches between his legs.
“Well, while you do that, I will give Sara and Kylie a list of places they should hit up.”
See. That wasn’t so hard. The seeds have flourished and sprouted at an alarming rate—but not so quickly as to raise suspicion.
Xavier likely told them we had sex, so my suggestive, alluring words would make them believe we are caught up in our love instead of me sneaking into the castle and slaughtering the king who ordered fire elemny to…
Deep breaths.