Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

S ungard

Aria Nightingale

Today was turning out even worse than I had anticipated.

I was so hungry.

I sighed and pressed my hands to my belly. It hurt more today than usual, and I'd been trying to ignore it, but it was more difficult with every passing minute. Though the slums of Sungard were touched by sunlight amidst the shadows, even the most beautiful places were still soured with the cruel pangs of hunger.

My stomach growled and a surge of pain spiraled through me. When was the last time I had eaten? Yesterday? The day before that? I couldn't remember. It didn't much matter.

I leaned against the wall of a crumbling building, its once vibrant murals now faded and chipped. The light here in Sungard was relentless, casting everything in a golden hue that almost made you forget the desperation lurking beneath.

That is, unless you were a part of it.

I watched the market square intently, my eyes scanning the crowd for a suitable mark, someone whose purse strings were just a little too loose, someone who had the funds to feed me tonight, albeit unwillingly. There had to be someone. There always was.

I'd been living on the street for more than a year now, ever since my father died and my mother had been taken for the Sun Court. There was no one to take care of me other than myself, so I did what I had to do to survive.

I stole, mostly from the rich, otherwise I went hungry. And I hadn't stolen anything in days.

I reached up and gently took hold of the amethyst necklace that hung around my neck, the cool stone resting in the palm of my hand. The pendant had been a gift from my mother.

Despite the relentless hunger pangs gnawing at my stomach, the thought of selling it had never crossed my mind. This necklace was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was the last tangible connection I had to her. No amount of gold or food could ever replace that, and I would hold onto it forever.

My gaze slid over the market as I dropped my hand. The square was bustling with activity, merchants shouting their wares, children laughing and playing, and people milling about, all oblivious to the girl lurking in the shadows, plotting her next move just so she could get her next meal.

Sometimes I liked to think of myself as the villain of my own story. It made things that much more fun.

I molded into the shadows, my gaze landing on a portly man in fine robes, a merchant by the looks of him. He was chatting animatedly with a customer, his coin purse hanging temptingly from his belt. Another pang of hunger rippled through me, and I almost took a step forward, but then I stopped myself.

No. Too risky. I watched him more closely, noticing that he was too aware of his surroundings. I needed someone who wouldn't notice a light-fingered girl slipping into their pockets. I didn't want to get caught again.

The guards would remember the girl with golden eyes, just like they did the last time I'd been caught.

A flash of silver caught my eye, and I turned to see a young noble, his face flushed with the excitement of a new purchase, a pointy new sword by the looks of things. He carried a small bag, the weight of it pulling his shoulder down slightly. What was in it? Jewelry, perhaps? His noble attire suggested wealth, but his demeanor screamed naivety. He might do, but I wanted to see if there were better options.

I moved through the crowd, careful to keep to the edges where I could disappear if needed. My stomach growled again, louder this time, urging me to make a decision before the market closed for the evening and the crowds became more dangerous by the hour. I ignored my stomach, focusing instead on a middle-aged man in a worn but sturdy cloak. He looked like a traveler passing through and when I looked closer, there was a heavy purse tied to his belt. He was deep in conversation with a vendor, his attention completely absorbed. I watched him for a few minutes longer. He was distracted and nothing seemed to catch his attention.

Perfect.

I edged closer, weaving through the throng of people, my eyes never leaving the traveler. As I neared, I reminded myself of the small, sharp knife in my boot that I always carried just in case things went south. I didn't want to use it, but the streets of Sungard were dangerous, even in the perpetual daylight, but more so at night when the light of the moon cast shadows over the city.

The traveler laughed at something the vendor said, throwing his head back, and I slinked closer, deciding to take my chance. I moved in quickly, my fingers deftly untying the strings of his coin purse as I bumped into him. The small bundle came free, and I slipped it into my own pocket, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

"Sorry, kind sir. I wasn't looking where I was going," I muttered, dipping my head and keeping my eyes on the ground.

He didn't even dignify me with a response.

Asshole.

I moved away just as swiftly, blending back into the crowd. I didn't dare look back to see if he'd notice that his coin purse was gone. I knew better than to stay too close to my marks. The scars on my back were proof of what happened when I'd strayed too close and got caught. I could still feel every lash as though they'd flayed my back only yesterday.

I shivered, trying to shake off the terrible memories of the early days after my father died.

My father had been a good man, a kind man, who cared more for others than himself. He would often steal from the wealthy merchants of Sungard to feed the poor and hungry, of which there were many. He had always told me that true nobility came from the heart, not from wealth or power. But the Sun King hadn't seen it that way. To him, my father was a criminal, a threat to his perfect, golden city, and he'd taken his head for it.

I remember the day they came for him. The Sun King's guards had stormed into our small home. They dragged my father out into the street, accusing him of theft and treason. The Sun King himself presided over the execution, his cold golden eyes watching without a hint of mercy as my father was beheaded in front of the gathered crowd. His only crime had been trying to help those in need, but in Sungard, that was seemingly enough to seal his fate.

My mother had begged for mercy, but the Sun King was as unyielding as the blazing sun. As punishment, she was taken away to serve as a slave in the noble households, a living reminder of the cost of defiance.

He dealt with me last.

As an example to the people, I was whipped in the middle of market square. He was the reason for the marks on my back.

From that day on, I learned to fend for myself. The streets of Sungard became my home, and survival became my only goal. I learned to pick pockets, to steal food, to blend into the shadows. Trusting no one, I relied on my wits and agility to stay alive. In the end, I survived.

Often, I dreamed of enacting my revenge, of making the Sun King pay for what he'd done to my father and for stealing my mother away, but what could a lone girl like me hope to do against a king?

Lifting my chin, I headed toward the edge of the market, my mind already on the warm, crusty bread I would buy tonight. Maybe I would even have enough to splurge on a piece of meat and maybe even a sticky bun for dessert.

As I made my way through the winding alleys, I allowed myself a small smile. Life in Sungard was harsh, but I had learned to survive. I had to. There was no other choice for someone like me, a girl with nothing but her wits and the clothes on her back.

Tonight, at least, I wouldn't go to bed hungry.

I turned a corner, my mind consumed by thoughts of the warm food I would buy in just a little while. The mere idea of sinking my teeth into something to eat made my stomach growl louder, the hunger pangs almost unbearable. Distracted, I didn't notice the figure looming ahead of me until it was far too late.

I collided with something incredibly solid. Stumbling back, I looked up and found myself staring into the eyes of a man cloaked in a purple so dark that it almost bordered on black. His eyes were an intense, piercing violet that seemed to see straight through me, and I swallowed hard, taken aback by nothing more than his gaze.

For a moment, time stood still. A thunderous boom echoed throughout the realm, a sound that reverberated deep within my bones, shaking the very air around us.

What the fuck was that?

Startled, I took a step back, my heart racing. The man's gaze held mine, and I felt a strange, magical pull that I couldn't explain. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, his grip firm and unyielding.

"Who are you? Tell me your name," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. Panic surged through me, and I glanced around, hoping someone might help me, but the alleyway was empty, the bustling market square now feeling a million miles away.

"Let go of me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He didn't release me. Instead, he leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "You're not just any street urchin, are you?" he murmured, more to himself than to me. I tried to look away, but his gaze was locked with mine like it held a gravity all of its own.

My mind raced. Who was this man? What did he want with me? Why wouldn't he let me go?

"Please," I whispered, trying one last time to free myself.

"Be careful, little thief," he said, his voice still tinged with that unsettling authority. "The world is not always as it seems." With his other hand, he pushed back the hood of his cloak, allowing me my first good look at him.

The dim light of the alley caught his features, revealing a face that was both striking and dangerous. His hair was dark and silky, falling in loose waves around high cheekbones that gave him an almost regal appearance. But it was his eyes that captivated me the most—violet, intense, and filled with a mesmerizing quality that felt both dangerous and mystical and maybe even magical.

For a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't think. I wanted to run, every instinct screaming at me to flee, but something about him drew me in, making it impossible to look away even though all I wanted was my freedom.

"Who are you?" I whispered, more to myself than to him.

His lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile. "Names are powerful things, little thief," he replied, his voice smooth and velvety, with a hint of amusement.

He took a step closer, and I instinctively took a step backwards, my back pressing against the rough stone wall of the alley. The air around him seemed to shimmer, an aura of power and mystery that both terrified and somehow intrigued me.

I swallowed again, my throat dry. "What do you want?"

His smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "To help you, perhaps. Or to use you. Maybe both."

My gaze struck by those amethyst irises once again, I tugged my hand away from him, but his hold was firm, and he pulled me in closer toward him instead. Without meaning to, my hand brushed against the hilt of a dagger. Carefully, I curled my fingers around the jeweled end and pulled. It was loose.

I could take it.

Right here. Right now.

Maybe I could even kill him before he decided to drag me off and rape me, or worse, kill me himself.

"You don't know me, sir. I'm nobody," I blurted out.

"I don't believe that for a second. You're someone," he murmured, his gravelly voice trailing across my skin like silk. A chill ran through me.

Something about this man, the intensity of his gaze, the way he seemed to see right through me, the raw power that seemed to radiate from him, terrified me, but also pulled me in toward him. There was so much tension between us that I could feel it vibrating the very marrow of my bones.

I don't know what came over me then. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was destiny, or maybe it was fate, but I slipped the dagger free from its hilt. With a flourish, I slipped it behind my back and took a step back, yanking my trapped arm hard enough to finally break free. A shiver ran down my spine at the narrowing of his eyes, but he didn't reach for me.

I took a step back. Another, and then another, until there was at least a foot of space between us before I turned around and fled, his dagger digging into my back, the change purse bouncing in my pocket. I looked back to see him watching me for the briefest of moments before he took off after me.

The chase was on.

I darted to the left, through the winding alleys, my heart pounding in my chest. The streets of Sungard were a maze of narrow passages and hidden corners, but I knew them well and he didn't look like he was from around here. I would lose him before he caught up to me. I had to.

I couldn't afford to be captured, not now, not ever. At worst, I'd be killed and at best, I'd be sold off as a slave. I shuddered, thinking about the lashes on my back once again.

I twisted around a corner, narrowly avoiding a merchant carrying a heavy load of vegetables. The market square loomed ahead, filled with people and bustling activity, but that didn't slow me down. I simply ran harder. If I could make it through to another market, maybe I could disappear into the crowd and lose him that way.

The sun overhead bathed the city in a warm, almost surreal glow, but it did nothing to calm my nerves. The slums gave way to more affluent areas as I ran, each step taking me closer to the massive golden palace perched atop the mountain. The castle stood as a beacon of magnificent wealth and unbelievable power. Wealth I would never in my life experience. Wealth only the Sun King was used to.

I'd never know what that was like, but I'd made my peace with that long ago.

I glanced back and saw the man still chasing me, his dark cloak billowing out behind him as he ran after me. Panic surged through me, and I pushed myself harder, weaving through the crowd in another market, bumping into people, and apologizing hurriedly as I went. I risked another glance over my shoulder and saw him closing the distance. I needed to find a place to hide and fast.

An abandoned building on the edge of the market caught my eye. It looked like it had once been a shop, now boarded up and forgotten. I slipped inside, the door creaking as I closed it behind me. The interior was dark and dusty, filled with cobwebs and broken furniture. I crouched behind a large, overturned table, trying to steady my breathing as much as I could.

The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Maybe he hadn't seen me come in here. Maybe I was safe. But then, the door creaked open again, and I heard soft, measured footsteps.

Fuck. He'd found me.

"Little thief," he called, his voice echoing in the empty space. "You can't hide from me."

I held my breath, hoping he would move on, but his footsteps grew closer. I clutched at the dagger I had stolen from him, my fingers trembling. The shadows seemed to close in around me, the darkness pressing in on all sides.

I waited until his footsteps passed by my hiding spot, then bolted from my cover, darting out the back door of the building. The sudden burst of light blinded me for a moment, but I kept running, my feet pounding away against the cobblestones.

The chase led me deeper into the city, through another market where vendors shouted in surprise as I dashed past. I didn't look back this time, but I knew the man was right behind me, his presence like a dark shadow that I couldn't shake. The streets became narrower and more twisted, the grandeur of Sungard fading as I entered an older, abandoned sector of the city.

Here, the buildings were crumbling and overgrown with vines, the streets deserted and eerily silent. I wasn't as familiar with this section of the city and when I reached a dead end, I skidded to a stop, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Dammit! There was nowhere left to run.

He emerged from the shadows, his violet eyes locked onto mine. He moved with a grace that belied his power, each step deliberate and measured, and I backed up into the wall, nervously watching as his intense gaze held mine.

"You can't escape me, little thief," he said, his voice low and intense. "Your fate is tied to mine."

I backed up against the wall, the jeweled dagger still clutched in my hand.

"What do you want from me?" I demanded, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

"You stole from me, and I aim to take back what's mine," he growled. His tone was calm, almost conversational, but the threat was unmistakable. "No one steals from me and survives to tell the tale."

A cold shiver ran down my spine. My heart pounded in my chest, and I tightened my grip on the dagger, my only means of defense aside from the small knife still secured in my boot. I was scared, but I wouldn't go down without a fight. I had survived too much to give up now.

"You can try to take it back," I said, my voice trembling but defiant. "But I won't make it easy for you."

His smile was a cold, calculating thing, and he took another step closer.

"Brave words, little thief. Let's see if you can back them up," he dared, and I snarled in his direction.

I lunged at him, slashing with the dagger. He moved with a fluid grace, easily sidestepping my first swipe. I swung again, putting all my strength into the attack, but he avoided it with a slight shift of his body. Each time I struck, he evaded effortlessly, his movements almost lazy, like this was far too easy for him and that infuriated me.

Frustration and fear fueled my attacks. I tried to feint left and strike right, but he anticipated my every move. His eyes never left mine, calm and unyielding, as if he were merely toying with me.

This wasn't looking good.

I aimed a final desperate thrust at his chest, but he caught my wrist in a viselike grip. Pain shot through my arm as he twisted it, forcing me to drop the dagger. It clattered to the ground, the sound echoing through the deserted streets, and I got my first good look at it.

It was beautiful.

The black handle was sleek, inlaid with intricate patterns of diamonds and amethysts that sparkled like trapped starlight. The hilt was adorned with carvings of ancient runes, pulsating with a faint, otherworldly purple glow, hinting at the powerful magic infused within the blade. This was no ordinary dagger; that much was clear.

He wrenched my wrist back, turning my attention away from the dagger and straight back to him.

I gasped, tears of pain and frustration welling in my eyes.

"Let go of me!" I demanded.

His grip remained firm, his expression unreadable. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But you're out of your depth, little thief."

I struggled against his hold, but it was like trying to move a mountain. He pulled me closer, his gaze intense and unyielding.

"Your destiny is not something you can fight. You will come with me, willingly or not."

Panic surged through me, but beneath it was a spark of something else—determination. And I held onto that like it was a lifeline.

"I don't believe in destiny," I spat, trying to twist free.

His smile was cold. "You don't have a choice, little thief."

Before I could respond, he reached down and picked up the dagger, tucking it into his belt. With a swift, almost gentle motion, he swept me off my feet and threw me over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" I shouted, beating my fists against his back. "I won't go with you!"

He ignored my protests, his grip unyielding.

"You'll go wherever I take you, little thief," he growled.