Chapter 4 #2
My hand drifted instinctively to my sore arm, as if the bruises themselves might impart the secrets behind this perplexing exchange.
One moment I was sneaking into a high security palace for the thrill of a challenging adventure, the next I found myself entangled in something far beyond even my vast experience.
“I wasn’t aware I was being tested.” I barely managed to keep my voice steady. “Would Your Majesty be so kind as to enlighten this unsuspecting examinee as to what test I’ve apparently been subjected to?”
He frowned. “You truly don’t know?” At my silence he nodded to himself. “I must commend my men who followed my directive to the letter. Without the necessary foreknowledge, you couldn’t have possibly manipulated the results.”
For a heartbeat, the room was silent—still enough I could hear the faint crackle of the braziers and the whisper of my own breath—broken at last by the advisor’s snort of disgust.
“Her supposed ignorance is undoubtedly a guise. I highly doubt it’s mere coincidence that the first thief to ever breach the palace just so happened to do so on the very night such an important test was taking place.”
The king stroked his beard, brow furrowed with what appeared to be his first hint of interest, a sharp contrast to his earlier disgust.
“Unless…” he murmured. “It was the workings of fate. We must not forget that this was no ordinary test, but one crafted to identify those of the bloodline of the first kings. Only a true descendant born to rule can feel the enchantment woven into the relic, a magic older than the crown itself.”
“Seems a rather arbitrary way to choose something as important as a future ruler,” I said dryly.
The king smirked. “On the contrary. It offers a safeguard immune to bias or the corruption of politics. Bloodlines can be forged, names falsified, loyalties bought. But this test recognizes something deeper, awakening only for one deemed worthy.”
His gaze flickered over me once more, lingering this time as though trying to see past the mask of thief to what lay within.
“A prophecy has been passed down through our family. It states that, should the kingdom ever be left without an heir, a true princess would be hidden in the least expected. In all my study, I never imagined it would mean the most unexpected of all: that of a common thief.”
I blinked at him, too stunned to think of a retort even if I dared to speak it.
“For generations, it has been used to identify those destined to restore balance to the crown,” the queen continued. “We thought the spell had gone dormant after our son—” Her voice caught and she pressed a gloved hand to her heart. “Until last night, when it finally awoke.”
The king nodded. “When the guards informed us of someone touching the relic, despite our doubts that a mere criminal could be the one we’ve long awaited, we couldn’t risk ignoring it. Not if you truly are the prophesied royal.”
A wild, incredulous laugh nearly escaped me, but it stuck in my throat. “You think this—” I gestured vaguely to my bruises, “—means I’m some sort of…chosen heir?” The idea was beyond ridiculous; I traded in secrets, not titles.
The king frowned. “Do not be so quick to condemn. The old magic does not awaken without purpose. Now tell us your name and lineage, thief.”
I hesitated to shed the anonymity that was a thief’s protection, but the warning in His Majesty’s eyes reminded me this was one order I couldn’t disobey. “My name is Mirelle,” I said flatly. “My lineage is nothing worth reciting; you won’t find it in any noble registry.”
The silence that followed carried the weight of what I hadn’t said—the missing title, the lack of bloodline to trace and verify…the most suspicious detail of all.
The advisor stepped forward, his mouth tight with displeasure, eyes sharp as if searching for the lie I hadn’t yet told.
“Impossible. Prophecy or not, surely the relic wouldn’t have chosen someone without any nobility to speak of.
It would be reckless to accept her based solely on the word of a few guards—who could have easily misjudged what they witnessed in the dark—without direct confirmation that she truly possesses the ability to touch an object reserved for royal blood. ”
I bristled. “You think I bruised myself half to death just to get your attention?”
“Perhaps not,” he replied in a voice smooth as poisoned silk.
“But you were caught in the missing prince’s chambers, trying to steal one of this kingdom’s greatest treasures.
Perhaps it responded to you because you’ve tampered with such magics before.
One test will reveal the truth: you are nothing more than a common thief, stumbling into power you do not deserve. ”
The advisor appeared to have more complaints, but before he could voice them, the queen lifted one gloved hand and he fell silent.
“Do not question your monarchs due to your own lack of faith, Sir Varen. A crown is not given so easily; there are still many tests remaining for her to pass, starting with the one that marked the beginning of this unique turn of events.” She motioned to the guards. “Bring it forward.”
The order passed silently between the ranks.
Moments later, one reappeared—carrying a glass case held with the utmost care.
Within it, resting atop a velvet cushion, sat a delicate silver circlet encrusted in gems—the very object I’d attempted to steal the night before.
Even encased, I could almost feel the vision it’d revealed the last time I’d touched it, hear whispers of its promised secrets still awaiting me.
The king stood. “This is the Relic of Sovereigns, forged in the days before the crown existed, passed only to those chosen by the magic that created our kingdom. It will not stir for impostors.” He withdrew a key from beneath his collar and unlocked the case, using much more pomp and effort than I’d employed the night before. “Touch it,” he commanded.
My pulse quickened. I’d only glimpsed a single shard taken from this crown last night before everything had gone wrong—but now, in the full glow of torchlight, it seemed almost alive. Not regal. Not beautiful. But dangerous.
I hesitated, my pulse quickening. Not from fear, but anticipation to heed the enchantment’s call that made my skin hum.
Fingers trembling, I slowly reached out and placed my hand against the relic.
The moment my skin brushed the metal, the relic flared with light beneath my palm, warmth flooding through me with memory—the kind I’d always been able to sense in objects I touched…
only stronger, more ancient. I’d felt strong emotions through objects before, but nothing like what overwhelmed me this time.
Visions cascaded through me: kings crowned in shadowed halls, queens whispering vows by firelight, a child held aloft as cheers echoed in a forgotten tongue. There were battles, coronations, oaths, betrayals. The rise and fall of dynasties.
And then, one image lingered—the same man I had captured glimpses of the first time the relic spoke to me, bearing a sense of familiarity I’d felt in the strange dreams that had trapped me while I slept.
I tore my hand away, heart pounding, stumbling slightly as I fought to regain my balance.
The relic pulsed once more, then fell still.
The silence in the throne room returned, but it was different now—heavier and uncertain. “That should not have happened,” the advisor whispered, his face pale.
The queen’s expression was unreadable. “Only a true heir could have awakened it.”
I swallowed hard, forcing my breathing to slow. My strange ability had always been a quiet trick, a whisper of stories objects wanted to tell. But what I’d just witnessed had been a storm that went beyond what my powers had ever shown me.
The king nodded slowly, but his eyes were far from satisfied. “The test was only the beginning. There are more to come.”
He stood, his presence filling the room. “You may have awakened the relic, but whether you are truly the one meant to be chosen remains to be seen. Until then, you will be watched.”
A single statement was all it took for me to no longer be merely a thief awaiting judgment, but something far more dangerous: a question that needed answering.
A strange weight pressed on my chest, unfamiliar and suffocating. My mind whirled too quickly to keep up, details converging yet leaving me without answers. I’d spent my life slipping into locked rooms, reading clues, uncovering secrets others hid.
Every puzzle had a solution, every riddle a pattern, and I was excellent at deciphering these.
But for the first time in my life, I was faced with a mystery I couldn’t untangle.
No thread to pull, no lock to pick. Just bruises that spoke in riddles and royals who looked at me as if I were both curse and key.
The queen studied me, her expression caught between sorrow and hope. “Whoever you are, the enchantment has chosen you. Perhaps fate is not finished with our family after all.”
Though I wanted to scoff—to toss back some biting remark to reclaim control—I had none left to stand on, entirely unmoored.
I cast a panicked glance towards the door flanked by guards, but knew instinctively that escape had become even more impossible as I was no longer a common criminal but someone the royal family was pinning their hopes on.
A thief, cornered not by guards or locks, but by a destiny I couldn’t steal my way out of.
For the first time in my life, I had found a riddle I couldn’t solve.