Chapter 7

M y eyes burned against the warm sun as it beamed in from the window. One by one, I slowly opened my eyes as I lifted my heavy head from my half-asleep arm. My arm shot out, shielding my eyes from the sun's glaring rays. Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, a soft, fulfilling yawn slipped past my mouth as I stretched out the stiff muscles in my back and neck.

“Did you enjoy your sleep, Kaydian?” My father asked. His deep baritone voice sent me leaping from my seat, sending the gold chair tumbling over with a bang.

He continued to speak, “You know it’s a little after noon, and your mother came into her office to get work done…only to see you drooling over your family book.”

What could I say but look at my father. His brown eyes gave nothing away, but I knew he grew tired of my antics. Heck! I was tired of my antics. And all I wanted was to make my life less grim. But I guess that would never be in the cards for me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I sighed heavily as I slumped back down into the chair after I picked it up. The pathetic apology sounded weak to my ears.

My father was in his informal attire today. The soft black dress shirt he normally wore was pristine as it bunched up against his upper arms as he folded them. His pants and black leather shoes matched the black shirt. My father’s morning beard was shaved off, leaving him looking younger than he appeared.

“Ms. Kincaid woke up on the floor with a bad back. She was supposed to be going to Tou-sin today with your mother. But I had to send her to the infirmary,” my father said as he shook his head. His frown marred his face as it pierced my heart.

“I will apologize to Ms. Kincaid. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You wanted to put her to sleep. But for what?”

My shoulders caved in, and my wrist was on fire as I attempted to ignore it. There was no escaping my punishment. One can only hope my father would show me some mercy. I couldn’t lean on my mother since she wasn’t here. My only guess was she was unaware of my run-in with Ms. Kincaid, or they already spoke about my punishment.

“Your mother and I are deeply disappointed in you, Kaydian. Time after time, we’ve given you a chance to quit acting like a petulant human, but it seems we’re too lenient with you. Your mother always begged me to give you more free time when you were younger, hoping you would finally come into your role. I told your mother too much freedom would hurt you in the long run, and I guess I was right.”

The lump in my throat grew painful. With my face to the cold desk, my father raised from the older brown chair opposite mine. His brown eyes held a sadness in them I never experienced before. Shame was something I was used to, sadly. I had an aptitude for being in trouble. But disappointment from my parents burned much longer after they were gone.

“Maybe it will make Ms. Kincaid happy to see you interested in her etiquette classes and some more lessons with Sir Reid. Maybe between the two, you won’t find time to mess around with Ms. Pourciau,” he suggested with his mouth pursed with disgust.

My father’s hand was on the doorknob when he turned to me and said, “It seems like every chance you get, you disappoint. We give you an inch of freedom, and you run too far with it. Betrayal and distrust aren’t amusing. It’s the reason covens get destroyed.”

With his last words, I folded my arms and bit back the sob that threatened to break out of me. Not because I’m mad at getting caught, but because I’ve dug a hole so deep that I can’t seem to get out of it. Everything is my fault. I’ll admit to my silly mistakes. What I would give to have a simple life like Del. What I would give to not have the weight of my duties weighing me down. Or not to have to worry about running from a fate I wasn’t strong enough to complete.

Running my hand through my dry, limp curls that dried out from the blistering sun. I banged my head on the back of the chair.

What a fucking mess!

Unfortunately, Sir Reid had dragged me out of my warm bed to the oversized sandy brown concrete coliseum the very next day. The plain stadium was beloved and maintained better than any building in Tou-sin. Not even a single crack was found on the dusty, hard, sandy-colored floor. The three rows of seating wrapped around the building was just enough for every single member of our coven to be in attendance. During our coven meetings and funerals, the mini stages would be in place to seat either my mother on the emerald throne or the Royal Coven table. Underneath the concrete ground, they were stored until there was a need for them and the Royal burial spot for our family. It was the coven’s pride and joy. Rightfully so, as my great-grandfather built it for my great-grandmother as a gift of love since she, like my foremother, loved fighting as much as she loved Youna. Must be nice .

“Oof,” flew out of my mouth as Sir Reid made my tender ass kiss the floor.

Bastard!

For every dumb decision that I’d partaken in within the past couple of weeks was the amount of times Sir Reid dropped me on my aching ass.

And honestly, I’m sick to death of this. My back ached from the abuse I had been enduring for the past three days now. This was the fourth time Sir Reid effortlessly sent me flying to the ground in the past hour. But I had given up, and I’ve refused to play this tortuous game anymore. My arms were tender to the touch as I folded them against my sweaty chest and stared up at the gloomy sky. The packed dark clouds billowed and seemed to be at a standstill as if they were watching me getting my ass whooped. It was midday, and the sky was ready to shed its tears on us.

Did it matter? No.

Because I was already saturated in my own tears and salty sweat. My straight hair, a mistake on my part, was now frizzy and kinky at the edges. My high ponytail was gone. The makeup I had put on because I thought today was an off day, since I was on my best behavior, had all but made a home on my silver middy shirt. The white cotton bloomers stuck to my generous thighs like a second skin. Not to mention, I smelled like the gardeners’ shed when they changed out of their clothing and left their jumpers in the shed for the day.

Seraphina and Lucifer were perched on the steel-enforced ledge of the coliseum as they watched their mother get battered. Several times, Sera attempted to help me by baring her sharp teeth at him, but Sir Reid turned to Sera and pinned her with his black eyes as he pointed his finger at her, willing her to make a move on him.

The man had balls of steel. I’ll give him that.

My knees ached from Sir Reid’s blade, that swiped across the soft tissue repeatedly as they healed multiple times just to be reopened again. My arms pulsed and cramped each time I lifted the damned heavy sword. I’m beyond pissed at Sir Reid, my parents, myself, and the stupid coliseum.

The hard clink of Sir Reid’s boots ricocheted off the mono colored structure. In the very far background, I could hear the bustling noise from Tou-sin Square.

“So, are you just going to lie down there like a whiny dead fish?” Sir Reid scowled.

I’m not in the mood for his bullshit right now. Clicking my tongue, I refused to acknowledge him treating me like one of those brutish men he trains. Maybe if I just squeezed my eyes shut that maybe this nightmare would be over.

“You have five seconds to get up, or I’ll make you.” He warned.

I couldn’t help but laugh as it bubbled up my throat and leaped out of my mouth. If I had any more tears to shed, I would have, but I settled on gasping for air. My face turned to the angry giant. Sir Reid’s opaque serrated scar that ran from his temple across his face down to the cliff of his chin twisted even more harshly as he glowered down at me. He was all dressed up in his armor from the steel half-body plated armor suit cuirass I was built like my grandmother, or so my mother always said. She was thick and had curves I inherited, which bypassed my mother, whose muscular, lean body seemed dwarfed next to mine. But none of that mattered, as Sir Reid planted me on my sore feet.

When he let go, my body wobbled before his hand held me while I got accumulated. The damn man got on my last nerve. Luc’s tortured cries vibrated throughout the coliseum as if he could feel my pain. Sir Reid let go of me as his narrowed eyes locked onto my family's sword a few feet away from where I had given up on my life. The sword looked miniature in his pale hand. Walking over to me, Sir Reid grabbed my hand and shoved the dark green hilt into my bruised hand. The sword was one of my family’s prized possessions. From the grip to the pommel, it was decorated in a dark green leather found in the old country before my family escaped the witch hunters. The blade was made from steel and was dipped into the blood of my ancestor, Youna, and every one of her female descendants, including me, on their eighteenth birthday. I still remember the look of shock as my mother and everyone in town watched my blood sizzle on the silver steel blade. Gasps and shocks echoed throughout the coliseum as we watched the rain guard of the old sword receive my blood, and the emerald in the pommel turned multicolored, then back to the emerald color that stained the gem. While I stood there and beamed, the other royal families exchanged silent glances. Even then, I knew the Royals had the sordid fairytale embedded into their memory.

He will be the death of me! I thought as the old memory faded.

“Surely, I can have a break now, Sir Reid. You have all but sliced and diced me from my arms to my knees!” I exclaimed with a heaviness in my voice.

“But yet, in three days, you have only managed to slice me a handful of times. I taught you better than that. Failure isn’t an option, little princess,” he said. His deep voice was thick with his English accent today. Sir Reid’s accent only became prevalent when he was angered or disappointed.

“Another round!” he announced sternly.

The booming sound of his voice hit me square in the chest. I’m too weak to fight back or to tell him off. Even with the sword point resting on the floor, the muscles in my arm pulsed and throbbed at the thought of having to pick the sword up.

Youna!

Hadn’t I been through enough punishment for seven years? Y ou should just kill him and be done with it! The voice in my head screamed. Shutting my eyes closed as I muttered a quick prayer. The voice, an impending sign of my demise, was back. It had been several months since the voice appeared, and I decided it was just my mind playing a trick on me. I took a deep breath, and when I opened them back up. I screamed and ducked.

“Are you mad?” I screamed. My voice was hoarse from my itchy throat.

“Less talk, more fighting.”

Sir Reid, the bastard, hadn’t given me any warning when he swung the magic-forced steel sword toward me for the second time. Lifting my family sword, I met him in the middle, just inches from my face being carved up like a turkey. My upper arm begged for clemency as I pushed his sword toward him until he broke the struggle standoff. Ha! We continued to dance with our swords—well, just Sir Reid. I was just trying to stay alive. Not that I thought he would kill me, but seeing the glint in his black pupils, I thought I should reconsider that notion.

The sound of metal rang out as I dodged his attempts. Both of us are not giving up on the one-sided fight. My several attempts to hit him were useless. I almost gave up. Nothing was working as I grunted and puffed out my exhaustion. When I sidestepped, he glided. He jumped, and I staggered back, almost busting my ass again. The sweat beads that had soaked the coliseum floor ran down my back and dripped down the back of my legs, making the damp white bloomers turn see-through. The muscles I had long forgotten were there, throbbed with my heart. Spotting an entrance, I hit him on his right, and he countered me with a sidestep. My body was shutting down as the seconds flew by. My hand wasn’t sweaty; it was inundated with my sweat with nowhere to wipe it away. I struggled. I swung my sword halfway into our battle, finding a sweet spot to nick his thunderous thighs. But, of course, Sir Reid beat me to it. As he grabbed the blade’s edge, the steel bit into his scarred palm as his blood coated it. He ripped the sword out of my hand, throwing it down beside me as if it were nothing more than a pest.

“Good, but not great,” he stated.

“I would be greater if you allowed me to use Sera and Luc,” I muttered.

“You have to know how to defend yourself without Sera and Luc. What if your enemy had dragons, and they were occupied? What would you do? Wait for them so you can fight?”

“I would use my magic.”

“Of course, you would…but what if you used your magic up, and the enemy had the upper hand? I keep drilling into your thick skull that?—”

“You have great powers, but it’s not limitless powers.” We said in unison.

Sir Reid’s frown deepened on his pale, grim face. He humphed, and I rolled my eyes. Our usual tango whenever this topic comes up.

“And if someone found out that emeralds were your weakness. Only Youna will be able to save you.”

As a royal, I could bend my magic to my will, and just like my progenitor, I could bring back the dead. A special magic that only the Thibodeaux line could wield. Of course, magic isn’t limitless for the witches on earth, along with my family’s emerald gem, that will strip me of my powers. If I use my magic frequently, it will give out. And I will be dead to the world until my magic has been to restore.

“You’re done for the day. I may be hard on you, but I won’t always be by your side. We need to know you can at least survive to escape. Go on, young princess. I will speak with your father,” he said, as he almost spat the last words out.

Sir Reid disliked my father…with a passion. His usual frown deepened whenever he was around as he spat out his name like it was acid on his tongue. I turned back to feed Sera and Luc the lamb that Sir Reid killed and brought back for them, but he had beaten me to it.

Sera all but was nuzzling the traitor as she thanked him for the food. Poor Luc laid on the floor waiting for his lamb. One thing I could tell you was that my children were like me, fed me, and I will be content.

Dragging my feet to them, my calves burned a little less with each step as my magic worked on the battered muscles. Using my magic to hoist the extra lamb from the crate over to Luc. My hand ran down his blue scales as he made quick work of the lamb.

“You’re not gone yet?” Sir Reid asked.

“No, I wanted to make sure they ate before I left.”

“They’re good dragons, your Highness,” Sir Reid said with a little softness to his voice.

I would have teased him if I wasn’t mad. Not that it mattered, since Sir Reid would say, “ I don’t need you to like me. I need you to trust me. ” You know, the boring stuff.

“You know I’m only hard on you because I believe in you. I know you’ll be a great queen when your mother gives you the throne,” he said as he continued to stroke Sera, who had now joined Luc as she allowed him to stroke her scales. “My job is to see you through your life and your heir's life as well. When that time comes.”

“If it ever happens. What if I’m destined to be alone…” I said, my eyes clamped shut as I realized my mistake. I could hit myself for allowing my intrusive thoughts to spill out.

“I—” Sir Reid said as I watched him fight to find the words to say.

But I didn’t stay to hear them, so I turned and walked away to avoid the awkwardness.

I didn’t want him to see the foolish tears that gathered in my treacherous eyes. Luckily, the castle was far enough to spill some of the blistering tears and gather my wits. But I couldn’t help but hear that little voice in the back of my head. The one that sounded nothing like my voice as it screamed, “mateless psycho.” A chill raked through my body, causing me to shiver, folding my arms across my heavy chest. My silver shirt, which was damp from my sweat, was now wet with my tears.

It seems like all I did anymore was cry and curse nowadays. Quite pathetic when you think of it. What Queen will I be if all I do is cause disappointment everywhere I go?

The fifteen-minute walk to the castle was quiet. Most of the coven ran inside when they saw Sera and Luc fly over the village back to their home in the woods. I welcomed the silence from the past two days of training, but now it seems stifling as it mixed in with my feverish sobs. The closer I got to the castle, the more dread seeped into my body. I wondered what my mother and father said behind closed doors about me. If they two called me a failure, psycho, or someone not capable of being loved.

What I would do to switch places with Del, but she already said she would never want to be in my shoes. She prefers to be on her farm with her little brother and parents as they tend to the hogs. I don’t blame her one bit as I thought about the weight on my shoulder to fit into my mother’s shoes.

As I reached the kitchen side door, I opened it. The cooler air made me grateful for the castle more than ever. My stomach grumbled at me as we got closer to the kitchen with the smell of freshly baked bread that fragrant the air. Maybe I could steal a piece from Chef Dubois before he noticed. I mean, for all of my hard work and all.

Approaching the double doors to the kitchen, I carefully took my time slipping through them. The two older assistant cooks had their backs towards the door. They both were in black skirts and white chef’s coats. The older assistant, Mary, plump arms worked feverishly as she washed the dishes in the sink. While the newer assistant, Ruth, dried them and placed them in the cupboard.

“Yes, I used to sneak over to the edge of the perimeter and purchase plants from the trader Fae for my mother’s tea. I think he was part of the Edgehaven Faes,” Ruth replied. Her loud voice sounded hushed, muffled over the clattering of the plates.

Edgehaven Fae’s. What are they doing near our territory? My father had long since dwindled their coven. Only leaving a handful of them alive. In my father’s words, “ Even the weakest supernaturals are needed for something .”

“Oh, yes, I forgot he used to sell frequently to us. What a shame. I always got the best tassel berries from him.” Mary took the washrag and wiped her wrinkled hand. As I slipped out the door, with the warm bread caressing my hand in doughy love, taking care to prevent the swinging door from creaking when I caught the tail end of the conversation, “Well, supposedly, King Thibodeaux wasn’t in South America but right here in Texas running them away. Rumor is…”

“Now why are you always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” Del’s mother’s voice rang in my ears.

My heart thumped erratically against my chest. The warm slice of bread I worked so hard for dropped on the floor as my stomach cried at its loss. Mrs. Pourciau stood before me. Her hand was on her narrow hips. Her red hair was pinned up in a high bun. She had on blue jumpers covered in specks of dirt. Mrs. Pourciau’s pink lips were twisted in a frown that resembled my mother’s. Mary and Ruth peeped their heads out from the door. Their brown eyes were wide like saucers when they saw Mrs. Pourciau and me standing right outside the door.

“You’re Highness, are you okay?” Mary asked. Her weather face told her story of her age. Mary was over three hundred years old and pledged herself to our family fifty years after Chef Dubois.

“Yes, she is,” Mrs. Pourciau said as she handed the crate with the meat to Ruth. “Do you ladies mind taking this crate? I don’t want the meat to go bad.”

Mary opened the door for Ruth, and they walked back into the kitchen.

Mrs. Pourciau had one hand on her waist as her red-painted fingernails tapped against her hip. She looked like Del. Her pale skin glowed as she shook her head at me.

“I’m always finding you or Del or both of you girls doing something you ain’t supposed to be doing.” She shook her head.

“Well, in all fairness, Mrs. Pourciau, I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but they mentioned my dad and him possibly not visiting the South American Coven, which is ridiculous since they're not a threat to us anymore. I mean, everyone knows all the Fae do is…well…”

“Fuck,” she said, with one eyebrow arched. “I have a mate and two children, your highness. No need to act innocent around me.”

Well, that made one of us, I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth closed.

“Yeah,” I itched the inside of my wrist. “They were about to say something…interesting. Do you know any rumors about my dad’s trip?”

Mrs. Pourciau looked ghastly. Her hand raked through her hair as her feet tapped the floor. Her hazel eyes were blank as she stared back at me.

“I should get going. Del and I are going to Tou-sin to shop.”

She hadn’t stayed long after I said goodbye. Her slender frame almost ran out of the servant’s hall without a glance back.

Secrets among secrets are what I believe were in store for me. That’s if I make it to the throne.

After I walked out of the hallway, I knew I had to face the cold hard facts. My dad was hiding something. My parents’ whispered tone sounded louder the farther I got from the kitchen door. Stopping in front of the powder blue sitting room, I watched as my father and my mother sat down for their afternoon tea. My mother threw back her head as she laughed at something my father whispered in her ear. She looked so content and happy at that moment with him. The toothy smile she gave him made me envious. My father took my mother’s dainty hand and kissed it as she told him to stop while playfully slapping him. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop wondering about that old saying my mother used to say.

For every rumor, there is an inkling of truth to the matter.