Chapter 36
Aristea felt as if she’d been living in a fog.
The dreams were getting worse. The voice kept cajoling her, begging her to come down to meet her.
At times, Aristea couldn’t tell if she was awake or asleep.
Thoughts of that dark place beneath the palace consumed her.
They hadn’t found Mathias, though they had Midnight Guards and City Watch alike searching for him.
Dinner with Duke Mattison had arrived. He was all smiles and compliments for her mother.
Father and he discussed their hunting dogs and cattle.
He was perfectly polite and charming. And far too much like Heinrich.
Aristea saw her life with him playing out like a twisted play—forced to smile for his court and hers; berated for not being smart enough, pretty enough, demure enough.
Worn down until she was nothing but a small pebble, something he could hold up and say—look at Princess Aristea, how easily she obeys.
“Since Prince Erich is presumed dead, I shall inherit the crown after my brother passes. My brother, the king, has assured me so. And with our marriage, we will bring the might of Sundland into the empire,” he said to her mother.
“And our child will rule over a stronger empire.” Duke Mattison reached across the table to pat her hand like she was a simple child.
She may as well not be there. Or be a piece of furniture. Mother looked at her with a smile of encouragement. It was favorable. Ideal even. No matter that he was so much older and another man cut from Heinrich’s cloth. The empire came before all else. Wasn’t that what she’d taught her?
Aristea sat in place, like a porcelain doll.
This is what they wanted her to do, sit, smile, and be the perfect example of a princess.
Without agency. Without a choice. She wanted to scream and to run out of the room, tearing her clothes off like a madwoman.
But she suspected even if she did, he’d still marry her.
Because he craved power. Heinrich needed her womb.
Duke Mattison didn’t even need that. She’d given her blood, her tears.
And now Mathias was plotting against her; he’d sided with the elves to destroy her and their family. And still she was powerless.
“Unless you come to me,” the voice whispered. It seemed it was in the room with her.
Aristea looked up, and she was hovering just past Mother’s shoulder, her face veiled and her withered hands reaching out to her.
“Take the power. It is your right.”
“No.” Aristea slammed her hands on the table.
Mother, Father, and the duke all looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. She stood and stared at the three of them. These schemers who’d plotted her life. She wouldn’t marry Duke Mattison. She refused. Even if she lost everything, she would not marry this man. She’d find another way.
“I will not marry you. I will rule on my own,” Aristea declared.
Her mother looked at her, mouth agape. “Aristea.”
“Denounce me if you wish. But I refuse to.”
Duke Mattison sputtered, and Father blinked in confusion, and then Mother set her napkin aside. She thought she would scold her or tell her to listen. Mother crossed the room, walked over to Aristea, and placed her hands on her shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
Aristea nodded slowly. “I’m certain.”
“Then it is decided.”
Mother turned to Duke Mattison. “I fear we’ll need to end this dinner early.”
“This is outrageous. You’ve led me to believe…”
“You were promised nothing. But presumed much,” Aristea said coldly, the relief too much to express.
He glared, but with a motion from Mother, the guards moved in, ready to forcibly escort him if he didn’t leave on his own.
He rose indignantly and stormed out of the room.
Aristea felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. She wouldn’t have to marry Duke Mattison.
Mother supported her decisions. But the problem remained.
She wasn’t strong enough to hold on to the throne herself.
Mathias had a growing list of allies, and she had none.
“Excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” Aristea told her parents.
Mother hugged her tightly. And Aristea almost gave in to the comfort of that embrace. More than anything, she wanted to rest. To let go of this iron grip she had on the throne. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t, give up. This was her destiny, her birthright.
“You were born for me. Your sister has the sword. But you could be so much more. I can make you an empress who will truly be feared,” the veiled woman crooned to her. “Come to me, Aristea. Embrace your destiny.”
She exited her parents’ apartments and went straight to her own. In the safety of her room, she dismissed her guards and lady’s maids, so she was left alone in her room. The tapestry hiding the secret entrance to her room twitched, as if blown by the wind. A shiver raced up her spine.
“What power can you give me?” she asked the voice. Instinctively, she knew she could hear her. That she was with her, watching, always.
“Everything. Come.”
The tapestry fluttered, and the door behind it creaked.
Aristea approached slowly, peered into the darkness, and then stepped into it.
She walked down the stairs, into the tunnels below the palace, through the twisting labyrinth of crumbling tunnels, down, down, down into the dark, her hands holding onto the slick moss-covered stones to guide her.
Her heart was hammering in her chest as the voice led her to a room.
It might have been a temple once. There were faded murals on the walls, ones she couldn’t quite decipher the writing on.
And at the center, there was a low-lying pool.
Its water rippled strangely, and stars reflected on the surface, though they were deep underground.
“Come closer,” the woman beckoned.
Aristea stood at the edge, looking over into the water, into what felt like a void of nothingness and starlight.
“Step in and be transformed.”
She hesitated. The same thing had happened to Liane as a child, and she had been sickly ever since.
“Not any longer. The power has awakened. That same power lies dormant in you, Aristea. She will come to help your brother usurp you.” The pool showed Liane riding on horseback, an army at her back, flying the Sundland flag.
Both Mathias and Liane were riding together, against her and her Neolyrian army.
Aristea balled her hands into fists at her sides.
“You’re the true empress, and it’s time everyone feared you.”
Aristea swallowed past the lump in her throat and stepped into the water.
But what she found there wasn’t a goddess’ touch, or even divinity. But a darkness so deep and consuming that she could not escape. It flowed in, choking her with thick black ichor.
Sinister laughter filled her ears as she sank further and further down.
There was no way to get out of the water, and the only way out was to succumb.
She watched from a distance as her body rose out of the water. Not as herself, but a monster wearing her skin.
~ The story continues in Dragon’s Devotion ~
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