Chapter 1 #4
Still clasping her wrist, the demon bowed his head. She flinched. She felt his warm breath on her neck, as he whispered in her ear, “There is always another choice, Lady Elizabeth.”
Her back stiffened. He stepped back, and suddenly he was several feet away, the cool night air wrapping around her freed wrist. How had he moved so fast?
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth demanded. “There is no other choice.” Her shoulders drooped with the admission.
She looked down at her slippers.
When she looked up again, the demon was gone.
She shuddered and hoped that meeting a demon was not a bad sign. Still, his words imprinted on her mind, what if there was another choice?
Elizabeth paced in front of the stone bench, fidgeting with her necklace.
She could tell her parents that she refused to marry the duke, or well, she could consider running away. The options terrified her, but they were options nonetheless. This strange demon had opened her eyes to the fact that she did have choices, limited as they were.
Elizabeth went back inside, skirting the partygoers and making for the ballroom doors. Someone called out to her and she pretended not to hear, walking hurriedly through the doors.
She wandered the palace alone, avoiding the ball.
She soon found herself in the palace gallery, in the hall of statues.
She drifted past the sculptures: the Sun God, the Sea God, the Moon Goddess, the Goddess of the Harvest, along with many other gods and goddesses. The gods watched over the realm of Asteria, and were to whom they paid homage to on the high holidays.
The statues of the Sun God and Sea God were twice the size of all the other statues—the patron gods of the Rhodean kingdom.
The Sun God had a long, curly beard and was sculpted in robes that revealed a broad chest. His crown branched out like the rays of the sun.
The Sea God was more slender and lithe, with a trident in one hand, and a small ship in the other.
Waves of the sea, crafted in stone, lapped at his sandalled feet.
She curtsied to pay her respects to Rhodea’s two patron gods, as she always did upon entering the hall of statues, but continued on, searching for a different set of statues today.
She walked to the far end of the hall, where there were two sculptures standing beside each other, one crafted with white marble and the other made of black stone.
An angel and a demon. The first sculptures of good and evil, an embodiment of the forces warring in all hearts.
The children of the gods, if the legends were to be believed.
While the angel was magnificent, with white marble wings swept up like a bird about to fly, the black demon statue was an ugly hunched thing, sculpted with bat-like wings, horns, and a permanent snarl etched on its features.
Angels were supposed to be the guardians of this realm, steering them towards the righteous path and always watching from afar. She had never met one, but legends said they embodied goodness and kindness, and that if anyone saw an angel, they owed them their devotion and allegiance.
Demons, on the other hand, were evil, tempting man to sin and stray from the gods’ will. Elizabeth had heard tales of demons, creatures crafted from nightmares that preyed on the flesh of wrongdoers. Creatures that made deals with mortals and often said one thing, only to mean another.
The sculpture of the demon looked like a monster; it did not look like the man from the garden. The eye sockets of the sculpture had been left empty, devoid of soul or feeling.
She wondered if anyone knew how far from the truth the image was. Or had the man lied to her? Was he not a demon after all?
“Lizzy!” Charlotte called out, breaking Elizabeth from her wandering thoughts. “Where in the Seven Hells have you been? We have to go.”
Charlotte looked unnerved and was accompanied by a palace guard. She gestured quickly for Elizabeth to follow her.
“Charlotte, slow down.” Elizabeth hurried, struggling to keep up with her brisk pace. “What happened?”
“There’s been an attack. An attack on the queen. We must return at once.”
“You’re kidding. Is everyone...?”
“Yes. There might be more attackers hiding in the castle. We must get back to the guards and our parents. Hurry!”
Elizabeth picked up her skirts and hurried back to the ballroom where the queen stood regal and terrifying in front of the throne.
The queen’s guards pointed the tips of their swords at two serving girls, kneeling on the dais. There were pearls scattered across the floor.
The queen’s shoulders were bare, as if her pearl shawl had come apart and fallen all over the floor. A dribble of blood on her shoulder was the only evidence that she had been attacked; the blood was dark in the low lighting of the hall.
The air was tense, but the onlookers looked on with impassive expressions. Their postures appeared relaxed, as if they were watching a dramatic play unfold, and not an attempt at treason.
Elizabeth followed Charlotte, weaving through the crowd until they found their parents. Her mother’s eyes were locked on the dais with pursed lips, the only tell that her mother was alarmed. Lady Harrison and her father wore carefully blank expressions.
Scanning the hall, she found it unsettling that everyone seemed so calm. Charlotte, too, had taken her mother’s lead and stood stock still, eyes riveted on the queen.
Biting her lip, she glanced around, and joined Charlotte in directing her attention to the queen.
“Don’t be shy,” Queen Rowena said, her tone mocking. “Tell us where your little friends are hiding.”
The two girls knelt on the hard marble floor, staring forward.
“Rebels, I take it?”
“Yes, mum,” said one of them.
“Don’t you dare tell them anything!” spat the other.
A guard knelt before the queen and bowed his head. “Majesty, the perimeter is secure. From our initial investigation, they came alone.”
“You are from Faina, I presume?” the queen said, strolling back and forth in front of the throne.
Her tone was dismissive, bored, as if there had not just been an attempt on her life.
“You thought you’d work in my palace for a while, silent as the grave, and then throw a knife at me amidst a ball with over a hundred guards? Foolish. So very foolish.”
The queen looked at each girl. “Any last words?”
“I grew up in Ceres—”
“Take them away,” the queen snarled.
Guards grabbed the two girls and dragged them towards the door.
“My grandmother was a farmer,” the serving girl roared beneath the guards’ restraints, talking fast as she was led away, determined to make every breath count.
“Her only magic lay in growing things. You put her in chains, dragged her off to this godsforsaken capital, and I never saw her again! I had a friend named Tilly! She was to become a Healer—”
The girl’s mad tirade was cut short as the guard covered her mouth with a gauntlet.
The girl’s angry shouts were muffled, growing faint as the guard dragged her away.
The second girl was wise and kept her mouth shut, staring at the crowd of onlookers with wide eyes until she, too, was pulled out of sight.