Chapter 9 Zara
Chapter nine
Zara
I’ve been run over by a pack of wild goblins.
That’s what my aching bones suggest anyway.
My head throbs, and my limbs are so weak.
I moan as I roll over in my bed. Even in the state I was in last night, sleep didn’t come easy.
I tossed and turned for hours, slipping in and out of dreams of bright green eyes that pierced my soul.
Then the dreams transformed into nightmares.
Black eyes and darkness. Trickery and betrayal. Evil.
What the hell happened last night?
The last thing I remember is participating in some questionable substance use.
Strong arms, intoxicating eyes…full lips.
There was kissing. A lot of kissing. I close my eyes and smile.
Oh yes, the kissing. Alfrie, or—was that his name?
Or was there someone else? My memory is as jumbled as my mind was the night before.
There was definitely someone else. Someone with the same name? It’s like I’m missing a chunk of time.
My head pounds even harder.
Blinding sunlight pours directly into my eyes, sending shockwaves of pain into my skull, and I groan before burying my face in the pillow. I thought I heard footsteps padding around my rooms.
“Wake up.” Alix’s deep voice booms like thunder in my brain.
“Please stop yelling.” I fold the pillow down around my head, covering my ears.
The floor shakes as he stomps over to the other window and draws the curtains back with authority. Then he’s right next to me, leaning close to my ear. “Wake. Up.”
Everything hurts. I hear a thud and my eyes flutter open.
Alix is sitting in the blue velvet armchair next to my bed.
I struggle to sit up onto my elbows and prop a pillow behind my back.
My mouth is as dry as a desert, and I reach for the glass of water that he must have brought to me.
He really is quite thoughtful, but I know his agenda.
I settle my head against the wooden headboard and wait for the endless lecture that he’ll undoubtedly dish out.
He's quiet, his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in his hand. And here we sit. In silence. I wish he would just get on with it already. I can hear him now. ‘Zara, you know better.’ ‘Zara, what were you thinking?’ ‘Zara, you’re bloody engaged for gods sake!’ Blah blah blah.
I raise my eyebrows encouraging him to say something. But he doesn’t, and that’s so much more annoying. I slap the comforter tucked beneath me. “Gods, Alix, what? Are you here to lecture me or not? If you are, get on with it! I have things to do.”
“Do you? From where I’m sitting, the only thing you have to do is grovel at the feet of the king and queen. But please, don’t let my lecturing keep you.” He waves his hand out in front of him, gesturing at the door to my rooms.
I roll my eyes. “Well?”
“Well, what?” Alix crosses his arms over his chest now. A challenge.
“Well…let me have it.”
He seems to be toiling with something and runs a hand through his black hair.
“You know, I actually have nothing to say. You’ve already heard it.
It doesn’t seem to matter what I do or say.
It doesn’t matter to you how much trouble I get into when you do these things.
” He sighs, “I’m tired. And, honestly, you’re going to do whatever the hell you want, so what’s the point?
Who cares if you get attacked by whatever lurks in the Woodlands?
Who cares if your father is worried or embarrassed by your actions.
Who cares if I lose my position and home here because I can’t seem to keep you out of trouble.
” He stands, resigned. “You don’t care. So, I don’t either. ”
He doesn’t give me a chance to argue and is already out the door by the time I register what just happened. I close my eyes, feeling even worse than I did when I woke up.
I throw my arms over my face. I’m such a brat.
I sit up and throw the blankets off of me. I can fix this.
There’s a knock at my door, and I hope it’s Emlyn. I need someone to complain to. She’ll always take my side, no matter how wrong I am. “Come in.”
Elara storms into my rooms like a hurricane, her long raven hair pulled into a taut bun. Stunningly gorgeous to behold, but beneath the facade, she’s cruel, overbearing, and possessive of my father to the point of alienating everyone in the court—especially me.
Her brow angles into a frown and her cold stare has me shivering and wanting to crawl underneath my heaviest blanket.
Her face is a mask of disgust and anger, which I’ve grown used to over the years.
“What in the realm were you thinking running out of the party like that? Without your guard? Gods forbid you end up slaughtered in the woods like the royal family from Gridan,” she shudders.
“Good morning, stepmother.” I purse my lips, rolling my eyes at her false concern for my well-being. “I wasn’t even in the Woodlands, so you can stop bringing up ancient history.” I snap at her irrational comment.
Even so, I shiver. The idea of ending up like the Royals from Gridan Court isn’t too appealing.
Rumor has it that they were powerful shifters who could transform into the rarest forms, like big cats and phoenixes.
They fled their court after the Great War and hid in the Woodlands with the Solitary Fey.
But that didn’t save them. The king, queen, and their two young children, Finn and Cyra, were hunted down and slaughtered just before the village where they sought shelter was burnt to nothingness.
I grab my robe and pad over to the sitting area, my head pounding with each step I take, and I plop down on the sofa. This is going to be a long morning.
“I know you think you can just do whatever it is you want, whenever you want. And maybe you can get away with this behavior with your father, but not me. I know where you went last night. Drugs? Ale? Really, Zara, are you that irresponsible?” She holds her arms up in question.
“I’ve begged you from day one not to ruin this marriage alliance for me.
For your father. I’ve waited too long for…
,” she stops herself and clears her throat, “this wedding is happening, Zara, so get on board. It’s time to grow up. ”
“How do you know about anything I may have done or didn’t do last night? Did Alix tell on me?” Ugh that little jerk. I sigh and examine my nails, avoiding her wicked glare.
“No. He didn’t have to. I have my sources, Zara. Trust me when I say I know where you are and what you are doing at all times.” Her eyes darken. “Someone has to keep you in line. Gods know that your father, weak and foolish as he is, won’t do it.”
She wants a reaction from me. I don’t give her the satisfaction and that must really anger her, because all at once, she’s grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to stand directly in front of her.
She takes my chin in her bony hand. “You listen to me, you little brat. You will get dressed in your finest gown and you will come down to breakfast where you will beg for the attentions from the Prince of Lanray. If you don’t, there will be consequences.
Do you understand?” Her icy gaze freezes my insides, and I wince as her sharp nails dig into my jaw.
Her grip tightens, and I struggle against it to nod.
She rips her hand away from my face. “Good. Now go and get your corset. I’ll lace you up.” She purses her plump lips as she drags her gaze down to my robe, disappointment sharpening her features.
I rub at the lingering pain in my jaw and retreat to my closet for the corset. Elara has always been harsh. But I usually stand my ground. Today, however, there’s an evil determination in her eyes. It’s downright terrifying.
I remember the first time I met my stepmother.
I was only eight years old, and I had grown used to life with just me and my father—hunting in the Woodlands, weekly chess games, horseback riding along the coast—but I longed for a mother.
Mine passed away while giving birth to me, and when Elara stepped out of the carriage that brought her to Masseda, I was enamored.
She was such a beauty. Everything about her exuded elegance and charm, and I wanted nothing more than for her to become the mother I never had.
All of that changed, of course, because the minute that she laid eyes on me, she decided I wasn’t worth her time.
Just some spoiled faeling who would get in the way of her relationship with my father and being named Queen of Masseda.
And I’ve been a thorn in her side since.
I tip-toe back over to her, corset in hand, and keep my eyes downcast to the carpet beneath my bare feet. I drop my robe in a heap on the floor and turn my back to her, spreading my arms out to my sides.
She gets to work wrapping the article of clothing around my waist and bust and takes her time pulling the laces through the silk loops along my spine.
“I honestly don’t know how your father has let you get away with so much over the years.
If you were my daughter—well, there would be a lot of changes.
” She’s muttering to herself and tightening the laces as she rants.
The more she raves on, the tighter the laces squeeze my waist. My ribs ache with every yank and I take in large gasps of air as she continues tying.
“It…is…very tight…” My chest heaves against the bone lining of the corset and the pain of it pierces my sides with every inhale.
She laces me even tighter. “Stop complaining. That’s all you do. Maybe if your corset is tight enough, you won’t be able to run your mouth so much.” With that, she laces the final loop and ties a bow at the bottom.
Bitch. I want to say something, but she’s right. I can barely get in a full breath, let alone call her the slew of nasty names that come to mind. I turn around slowly, my lungs about to implode, and offer a fake semi-smile of thanks.
She returns the gesture. “There now. Go and dress in something suitable for a princess. The prince will want nothing to do with you if you throw on one of your peasant-like tunics, and this marriage alliance is key to strengthen our courts.”
I still haven’t seen or spoken to Emlyn, and it takes two ladies maids to help me into a floor-length blue gown.
I don’t speak to either of them, all my effort going toward taking in gulps of precious air.
My cheeks must be pale because they repeatedly ask me if I’m okay while pinning back my long blonde hair with several tiny butterfly clips.
I nod and peek out into the hall, looking for Alix to escort me to the dining hall.
I half expect him not to show up after his rant this morning.
But there he is in the hallway, leaning against the wall, waiting patiently for me.
His jaw ticks and he eyes me briefly before pushing himself off the wall.
I walk over to him and rest my hand on his forearm.
“Alix. I. am.” I can’t seem to get a full sentence out without taking a breath between each word.
My struggle goes unnoticed, and he gently removes my hand from his arm, not saying anything or looking me in the eye. He bows slightly, one arm outstretched before him, encouraging me to lead the way.
Fine. I suppose he isn’t ready to talk just yet. With my chin held high, I walk down the long hallway, drawing deep yet ragged breaths with each step. I place my hand over my chest as if that will somehow help me to breathe.
I stand a little straighter, and head into the dining hall, one hand holding the train of my dress and I outstretch the other gracefully in front of me as I lower into a curtsy.
As I rise, my head whirls and my vision blurs, and I float along the long table to my seat, with Alix in tow.
The servants bow from their places along the walls and stay low until I near the head of the table awaiting approval from my father to sit.
I pause in front of my seat across the table from my father and Elara and curtsy once again.
The King and Prince of Lanray haven’t arrived yet, and my father nods his head, motioning for me to take my seat.
Alix pulls out my chair for me then silently moves to stand behind the royal table. I wobble slightly as I carefully lower into the chair. The faces surrounding me are fuzzy as my vision tunnels. My stomach churns.
Oh gods, I’m going to faint. I steady my hands on the table and swallow down the rising vomit.
“You look beautiful, Zara. Just like your mother.” King Jeffery leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
Elara’s nostrils flare slightly at the comment.
If there’s one thing that bothers her more than talking about my mother, it’s compliments given to me about how lovely I am.
She leans forward, peering around her husband to size me up.
Her lips curl in distaste. “I see you chose blue. You know that color dulls your skin tone. Though, I suppose it’s best that you don’t outshine me. ”
I glare at her. Or at least I think I do. I can’t really make out her face anymore.
“Zara, are you feeling unwell? You look a little pale.” My father’s voice sounds like it’s so far away. His face is blurry and the room sways around me.
Or perhaps I’m the one who's swaying.
I’m overwhelmed with a dizzying floating sensation, as if I might be lifted from my seat and fly out of the room. “I…I’m fine—” Before I can finish my statement, my world fades to black.