“Crazy!?” she bellowed. “They called me crazy when I tried to save Isalla too! My kingdom was doomed to fall into the hands of a bratty teenager, but when I tried to get rid of her, the entire kingdom turned against me.” She stepped forward, wielding the glinting weapon in a backward grip as she pressed me closer toward my bedroom. “But now I have a second chance...With your crown and Milo’s influence, I can do it all again! Sybettal may be a trash heap now, but in time, it will be even stronger than Isalla! Then I can take my revenge... They’ll see how wrong they were to banish me. I am a queen. I will always rise to the power I was meant for.”
“Please, you don’t have to do this,” I pleaded, keeping my eyes trained on her chaotic flicks of the blade.
“Quiet!” She hushed me, holding the tip of the blade just between my eyes. “Remember, the more you behave, the longer your mother gets to live. This is for the good of the kingdom, so don’t start being selfish like my other daughter and try to make a mess of things. You’re smarter than that, Nixi—oops! I mean, Estelle.” She let out a throaty chuckle, then forced me back another step until I was standing alone in my bedroom. “Now be a good little princess and get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.”
I stretched out my hand in a fruitless effort to stop her as she slammed the door shut in front of me. Every part of me was on fire with frustration and adrenaline, but in a single moment it all went cold as the clean click of a second lock echoed through my door.
chapter eighteen
I wonder what’s taking Nixie so long...
I sat stiff as a board on my pallet, staring numbly into the woods for any sign of the bouncing red head.She should have been here by now. For the last few weeks Nixie had visited every morning before sunrise. I dug my nails into the wooden frame of my pallet as I watched the golden orange glow dance through the morning mist.
Fear toiled inside me as various images of Nixie in danger spilled through my mind. She had seemed so confident that her hostess would never do her harm, but I was all too familiar with the story of the banished queen... Father had instructed Miron to weed out any unfit Isallan rulers a few years ago, and during his task, he learned that Queen Minerva was almost as villainous as, well... us.
The queen had nearly succeeded in poisoning her daughter, and was banished as punishment. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Nixie was staying with a banished Isallan of the same name.If only she had listened to me...
Nixie had begged me not to get involved and let her do some questioning first, but this wasn’t what I agreed to. I continued to watch the sun for another minute before finally letting my pent-up energy take over. My shoulder still ached with each movement, causing me to groan uncomfortably as I rose to my feet.
The pain was far better than it had been a few weeks ago, so I was content to self-proclaim that a little action would help keep the muscle well-stretched. Nixie would likely throw a fit if she saw me moving around, but she wasn’t here to nag me now. She could only blame herself for my activity.
I gave the aching muscle a tiny stretch and instantly winced from the strain. The wiser half of me knew I was in no condition to put up a fight, but I didn’t really have any other options. Nixie was in the care of a perfect villain, and I wasn’t going to sit around and let her get poisoned, too.
I bent down shakily, picking up the familiar dagger from the forest floor. “Just hold on, Nixie. Your handsome prince is on the way.”
I must have spent the entire night picking at the mortar that sealed the tiny window into my bedroom wall. It had crossed my mind that I could shatter the glass with the wooden stool, but I wasn’t certain I could get it to break on the first attempt. If Minerva heard me banging furniture against the window, it would only be a matter of moments before she arrived with her poison-dipped dagger.
I sighed heavily, continuing to flake away the chunks of mortar with my nails. The window always shook when the wind picked up, so I assumed it hadn’t been properly sealed. I was likely correct, but it didn’t seem possible to loosen the frame’s hold with only my hands in a single night. Morning sunlight blinded me through the glass, and the realization dawned on me that Killian would likely notice my absence.
However, my excitement was short-lived as I recalled his injured state. He would be lucky to make it to the cottage without having to stop and rest. There was no way he could help me break out in his condition. I smacked the glass in frustration, testing its durability with my tiny fist. To my dismay, the glass held firm and I was only left with a sore set of knuckles.
I was beginning to reconsider the plan with the stool when the sound of a clicking lock alerted my ears. I raced back across the tiny space and dove under the covers in an attempt to not get caught tampering with the window. When the door swung open, Minerva stood tall in the door frame, adorning a glamorous silver dress.
“Get up, dear. It’s time to start getting ready,” she commanded stiffly. Both the chunky iron key and the slim dagger dangled from her right hand.
I kept an eye on both as I slowly slid out of the covers. My sleepless night definitely had taken a toll on me, because the action proved more difficult than I’d intended. “Why do I need to get ready?” I yawned rudely. “It’s not as if my betrothed will be able to see me, or are we holding the ceremony in his cold lifeless dungeon... I mean, home.”
Minerva threw a dress at me, hitting me square in the chest with the folded bundle. “Watch your tongue,” she hissed. “Don’t forget that your mother’s life depends on your cooperation. And to answer your question, yes, the ceremony will be held in Milo’s home, but as soon as it’s complete, we will make our way to the capital to announce your union and take claim of the kingdom.”
I lifted the folded dress and gave it a quick inspection. To my surprise, it wasn’t a white wedding gown, but instead, it was the same emerald green that my current dress was. I unfolded the gown and noticed that it was a very Isallan style. Minerva caught sight of my judgmental stare and cleared her throat.
“As I said, that color brings out your eyes,” she explained indignantly. “Starting today, you are a princess, so it’s about time you dress like one.” Without another word, she stepped out of the room and closed the door, this time forgoing the lock.
I rolled my eyes as I undid the laces on the dress. Throwing a gown on a thief didn’t make her a princess. The dress fell awkwardly on me since I was far too short for a proper fit. The emerald-green silk trailed onto the floor, surrounding me in a puddle of material. The sleeves were likely meant to be quarter-length on a normal model, but hit me perfectly at the wrists. It wasn’t a terrible fit, but I definitely felt more like a child playing dress-up than a true princess.
I stepped out of the room once I was dressed and was instantly forced into a chair so Minerva could twist my hair into a painful up-do. Once she was satisfied with torturing me, she slipped her dagger into the belt of her gown and approached the bolted door.
“We’re going to Milo’s home now,” she said in a cold voice. “You will stay by my side, with your arm wrapped around mine. If you make any attempt to run, I will not hesitate to prick you.” She gestured at the weapon on her hip and gave me a deathly glare.
“Perhaps you should just stab me now.” I shot her a challenging look. “I’ve always found wedding ceremonies to be boring anyway, but I’m quite fond of naps.”
She gritted her teeth and pulled the blade from her waist. “Let me make one thing clear,” she said smoothly, aiming the point at my neck. “If I have to go through the inconvenience of dragging your lifeless body across the kingdom, then your poor mother will have to go through the same. Although, she won’t be merely sleeping during her trip.”
She flashed me a fiendish grin, and I silently balled my hands into fists before silently approaching her and slipping my arm through hers. “After you,Mother...” My voice dropped into a low growl as I glared daggers at the atrocious woman.
She gave me a victorious smile that made my skin crawl, then unlocked the door with a heavy click. “That’s a good girl. Now come along, we mustn’t keep your king waiting.” She strode casually through the doorway, dragging me with her long strides.
The sky had seemed to clear up, allowing a warm ray of sunshine to brush over my skin. The extra fabric trailing from my dress did an excellent job of tripping me every other step. Minerva gave me a sour look as I fumbled for the third time in a row but didn’t say anything as I attempted to regain my composure. The air may have been clear, but the ground was still soft. The elegant emerald silk quickly grew sullied with mud and clumps of grass. A small part of me found humor in the hideous destruction of the gown—it suited me better that way.