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I sighed sinking completely beneath the water, almost wishing that I would never have to emerge. I couldn't help but dwell on what my life would have been if my mother had been faithful to her husband. If I were born a real son of house Savita. Ca.s.sidy had been sent to Morea to be with the princess, perhaps I could have been as well. I might have danced with her at b.a.l.l.s or taken her for walks through the gardens. Maybe I could have been her knight in truth and protected her and Ca.s.sidy from my king. We might have fallen in love and started a family...
I shot out of the water gasping for air as I ran my fingers through my hair. What did it matter? What could have been was not what had been. My mother had been unfaithful to her husband, spending nights with my father knowing that she had a husband and children waiting for her at home. Her month of pleasure had caused me a lifetime of hardship. She had to have known that I would never be welcome in her husband's house. That my father would only take me out of obligation and the fact that his own wife lacked the ability to give him an heir. She had to be aware that I would spend my life being called b.a.s.t.a.r.d and that I would never be taken seriously. She knew. And she didn't care. She was even thoughtless enough to dump me on my father and return home as if I didn't exist and had it not been for her mother-in-law taking pity on me, I would have never known my siblings or any thing of a life in Tanberun.
I climbed out of the water wrapping a towel around myself as I stood looking out the window. It truly was a beautiful city, with marble and brick buildings, ma.s.sive temples, and elegant architecture. Though now the streets were empty. Gone were the laughing citizens I had encountered the one other time I had been to Morea. Then the streets were filled with laughter and conversation while the people drifted from shop to shop as if there was no problems in the world. "I'd like to see it again..." I mumbled.
I dried my hair, shrugged into my clothes, and walked out returning to the princess' apartment. When I entered she was wearing a garish black lace dress that wasn't appropriate for any event let alone a funeral. The lace was thin, and only had lining beneath around her breast. The skin of her waist could be seen beneath it, and the slit in skirt went to mid thin. It disgusted me to see her dressed like a wh.o.r.e but I knew there was nothing I could do for her even as she fought to hide her tears. The maids finished painting her face and then a black crown that matched the horror of a dress in her hair which was braided at the sides but hanging free down her back. Her violet eyes met mine for a second through the mirror before she looked away, clearly ashamed. I wanted nothing more than to comfort her but the eyes of her maids stopped me so I sat down and polished my armor.
An hour later, when the room was cleared I turned to face her. She stood there looking like a lost child. I opened my arms to her and she sprinted into my embrace. I did the only thing I could, allowed her to sink into my embrace as I stroked my hand up and down her nearly bare back. "Be honest, Sir Ramneal, do I look like a wh.o.r.e?"
I bit my lip to contain my laughter. No matter how long I spent with my princess I would never get accustomed to her foul mouth. In a way it was charming, how she spoke her mind without reserve, because it reminded me that at the end of the day she was still just a woman.
"I won't lie to you, Your Highness."
She sighed sinking further into my arms. "How am I to face my people like this?"
"Bravely." I whispered against her hair before I pressed my lips to her forehead. "As you always have before."
As the sun reached it's peak in the sky, six armed knights let themselves into the princess's room under the guise of being a protective escort. But I knew better, they were there to be sure that she went and to kill anyone who might try to help her along the way. What good was a p.a.w.n that wasn't on the board? None at all, and I knew that as well as my king. I was just worried that the princess would blame herself for the deaths of the people who did try to help her. In fact, I knew her well enough to that she would.
From the minute we left the palace gates countless eyes were focused on us. I couldn't help but notice the tension in her shoulders but still the princess walked with her head high. From the looks of pity of the faces of those we pa.s.sed it was clear that she was viewed as a prisoner, even if one without shackles. It was a twenty minute walk to the town square and it was twenty minutes of h.e.l.l. The looks of l.u.s.t on the faces of some of the men as we pa.s.sed made my magic tingle in my palms. I had never been one to prefer fire but I could understand why others did. It was so easy to feed my anger, all I had to do was look at the way my love had been forced to dress, to look at the faces of men who stared far to long at her bared skin, and look to the smirk on the face of my king. He too looked at her like she was a prey animal and it took all I had to contain myself. But my rage dissipated as I watched sorrow steal the strength from the princess's eyes.
She stood, with her eyes locked on to the body of her father, laid on the pyre, something so dishonorable that it had never been done to a Morean king before. A single tear slid down her face, but other than that she looked as if she was carved from stone. She said nothing as my king came to stand at her side and nothing still when he grabbed hold of her hand. "You take my breath away, Your Highness. Who knew that there was a woman beneath all those layers and hoops."
I wanted to growl that I did. I saw her beauty even when she was covered in blood but of course I kept my mouth shut. As did she. Normally she would glare at my king and reply with a rude remark but today she kept her eyes glued to the Morean king. I wanted so badly to take her into my arms but still I stood like the coward I was and watched as the woman I loved was tormented.
"Well, Princess, it's time to light the pyre."
Her head snapped in his direction as if she was hoping she had misunderstood, but we both knew what he'd meant. "Excuse me?"
"You are a fire mage, are you not?" He said smiling down at her like she was a ant about to be crushed beneath his boots.
"You can't be expecting me to dishonor my father." She said softly yet firmly.
"And who else should?"
"I will not burn my father. It is blasphemy!"
My king stepped forward and grabbed her jaw in a punishing grip and my hand instinctively went to the hilt of my blade, "I don't give a d.a.m.n about Morea or her G.o.ds. But I do care that you are being disobedient." Already the bruises formed beneath his fingers but she refused to yield, her eyes boring into his alight with a stubbornness that I had come to love. He pulled away from her and looked into the coward that had been force gathered and corralled in the streets by armed soldiers. He pointed at a girl not much younger than the princess and she was brought before the pair. "What's your name, girl?"
"Kairis." The young girl said her words trembling out of her like leaves in a storm.
My king smiled, that smile that had a way of ruining my day, "Well, Kairis, your future queen isn't behaving as a ruler should. And I believe she needs some motivation..." he then turned from the girl to his brother, the sickest b.a.s.t.a.r.d in all the kingdoms. "Dear brother, put the girl on the pyre."
"What?!" Arabella bellowed, a combination of rage and sorrow staining her cheeks.
"You are not so beautiful that I will let you defy me. And had you any sisters I would have ended you by now." He said with a smile so filled with fake charm that it made my teeth hurt. "Now, for every ten or so seconds that go by without you lighting the fire, I will put another peasant on top." He nodded to his brother who grabbed the screaming young girl by her hair and began to drag her over to the pyre.
Arabella fell to her knees, hard enough that the one that freed itself through the slit in her skirt bloodied. "Please," She said weakly bowing her head for the first time I'd ever seen. "don't. Please... I'll, I'll do anything. Do not make me kill her."
"Take it off." He said with a that sick smile back on his lips.
"What?" She asked through her tears as gasps broke through the crowd.
"Take the dress off. Bare yourself of all your ent.i.tlement." He was now standing over her, looking down at her as if she were a sideshow and not a queen. "Take it off, now!" he screamed.
She stood and I blanched. "My king..." I said firmly.
"Not now, Sir Ramneal."
I knew better but I spoke anyways. "Your Majesty... this is no way to treat a woman, let alone your queen."
The burn of his magic in my veins. .h.i.t me before I knew what was happening and it took all that I had to stay on my feet. My king was a water mage, and he had learned the ability to do sick things to a person's body through his control over the element. A grunt of pain tore from my lips but still I remained on my feet. I would not back down and if need be I would die standing.
"Please!" Arabella said as she reached for the zipper at her side. "He is only doing the job you gave him."
My king threw back his head and laughed. "Right you are, my queen. Drake was always such a stubborn b.a.s.t.a.r.d, one of my favorite things about him." The pain stopped but my breaths continued in pants, the quickness worsening after she unzipped her horrendous gown and moved to slide it down. But to my surprise my king held up his hand. "Enough, if I want any of these people to know what my woman looks like bare, I'll invite them to the bedding. Let the girl go."
As the young girl ran back to her crying mother, relief slammed through me so hard that my knees almost buckled. My love zipped her dress and went to stand before her father, once again bowing her head." "I beseech you, G.o.ds who were born and those who were made, take him, your chosen king. Father, may Kinry, the Wise, G.o.ddess of friendship watch over those you leave to mourn. May Junbar, the Tutor, G.o.d of mystics, record your knowledge so that it may never be lost. May Calic, the Martyr, G.o.d of hope, should be ever return to his throne, give you your children a brighter day. May Cedrick, the Unforgiving, G.o.d of war, avenge all the wrongs that were forced upon you. May Cesily, the Spirited, G.o.ddess of protection guide you though the hall. And may Alexor, the Father, G.o.d from darkness grant you a seat at his table." Tears ran down her face as she turned to me, "Sir Ramneal, your dagger, please."
My king groaned with his impatiences but I just stepped past him. "Grant her this, my king, it is their death prayer."
I handed her my dagger and she drew it across her finger tips letting her crimson blood pour undeterred. "I, as his daughter, blood of his blood, pay for this favor." she then swiped her fingers over his lips, down the sweep of his nose, and then let a few drops land on each of his eyelids. "Bless the Seven and their children of light."
She stepped back a few steps as her fire ignited across her still bleeding fingers. "Forgive me, father." With a flick of her wrist the kindling lit with the most beautiful blue flames. They danced along the base of the pyre, chasing each other until the color was all that could be seen.
With the first crackling pop of the wood, a heartbreaking sob tore from the princess' lips and she dropped her her hands and knees. I felt myself break as the strong, confident woman I loved morphed into a sobbing, scared, guilt wrecked girl. It was so easy to forget, that she was only sixteen. That, until we came, she had leaved a peaceful happy life with her father, brother, and her friends... one of those friends being my own niece. As I watched her vomit onto the cobble stones because the smell of charred flesh premeditated the air, I remembered that this was partly my fault. That I had helped take everything from her... and then I had the nerve to hope she might love me. And that might have made me sicker than my king.
Everything was so still, so quite. The only sounds where the crackling fire and the princess' sobs. Until, that was, my king apparently had lost interest watching the fire and decided to torment his captive queen once more. The sounds of his boots on the street echoed as he walked over to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair forcing her eyes back to the nearly vanished pyre. "You will watch until every last ember has been snuffed out. And you will remember that you are nothing. A queen of nothing, lucky enough to sit beside a man who will have everything."
She mumbled something that I could make out but I knew it wasn't very queenly because he yanked her head back and his free palm struck her face. He then held her in place grinning until, like he said, the last spike of color vanished form what remained of the Morean king. Then just to be cruel, just because he could, he drove her tear soaked face into the pile of ashes and held firm even as she choked and flailed helplessly.
I couldn't stop myself, I bolted to him and ripped his hand from her head, consequences be d.a.m.ned. "You'll kill her!" I growled.
My king looked at me rather wide eyed for second but then burst into laughter. "Pathetic." he said with a sneer as he walked away all of his men following him.
I reached down and pulled the choking girl into my arms patting her firmly on the back. Seconds later, she yanked to the side and retched again, expelling stomach fluid and ash as her tears left trails down her face which was completely covered in what remained of her father.
"I'm sorry..." was all I could manage as I pulled my cape from my shoulders and wrapped it around her before I scooped her into my arms walking back towards the palace.
She looked at me, with the fierceness of an apex predator, gone all the sorrow that was just on display. "By the seven, and whatever other G.o.ds might be out there, I will kill him."
I pressed my lips into her hair, the smell of ash nearly overwhelming, "After today, I will help."