Chapter 1

Chapter

One

TRESSYA

"What does the princess desire?" Carlin asked, twirling a long lock of my hair around his finger.

Lying naked atop him, savoring the warm, sticky sweat of our bodies, I gazed out the barn window at a dark cloud churning across the sky. "I need to try harder. I need to be better."

"You're perfect already."

I exhaled. "What?" I glanced down at him, momentarily disoriented, then smiled. Don't lose this moment . "I desire the freedom to marry whom I choose." I trailed my finger down his chest. "I have my eye on a certain carver."

My answer could have been more profound, a litany of words to make him wish he'd never asked, but those were secrets I could never share.

If only I could. Secrecy was one of the six pillars. Secrecy, discretion, loyalty... The foundations of my life sometimes felt like tar. Damn it, no . Not now. Not with Carlin. I always strove to keep these two parts of my life separate.

Carlin quirked an eyebrow. "I challenge that man to a duel." He finally laughed. "The princess asks too much. Why not a grand palace or a priceless jewel stolen from a mighty dragon's lair deep within the mountains?"

Struggling to find my way back to our moment, I pressed my palms to his chest and pushed up to straddle him. "Let me see." I mimed counting on my fingers. "I already have a palace, a box full of jewels, and there's no such thing as dragons."

Carlin caught my wrists as he rose in one swift motion, flipping me onto my back. The straw I now lay on itched my bare skin, but I didn't care. I wasn't sure when Carlin had stopped being fun and became a necessity. He was a dangerous distraction at a time when I could afford none. Would there ever be a right time?

He rolled on top of me, using his lean, muscular body to cage me beneath him. I entwined my legs around his waist as he raised my arms over my head, anchoring each other in place.

Coppery streaks ran through his lush brown hair like a smithy's molten pour. In these stolen moments, I always tangled my fingers in it, as if holding onto a moment soon to fade.

I was never meant to love. In this one thing, I would be selfish.

"The princess must ask for something within my reach if she has any hope of receiving it," he said.

It didn't matter that the sky threatened to unleash fury; Carlin's presence brought light into the stubborn darkness inside me.

"Can I ask for you?" It was both jest and a solemn request from a place in my heart I kept locked away. Like distraction, it was a weakness I couldn't afford.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and matched his gaze, inhaling the scent of sex, sweat, and Carlin: the sweet seed oil he used to protect the delicate wood carvings he lovingly fashioned, pouring a small part of himself into each one.

"Why ask for something you already have?" he replied.

His silvery-gray eyes stared into mine, creating a sting of pain in my heart at the conviction they held. Dismantled by his earnest gaze, I shifted my attention to the laden clouds before I ruined our stolen moment.

I can't have you. A poor stable boy, his bloodline offered nothing. I was a princess and a disciple; there would never be an 'us' beyond the secret moments we stole. He deserved happiness, and I was holding him back. Two years older than my twenty-three, he was of an age to be married. It was cruel to keep him to myself.

Carlin was everything I'd never had until the day I met him. He was gentle, kind, thoughtful beyond measure, compassionate to those less fortunate, and fiercely loyal to those he loved. Carlin knew his heart, and he loved me.

Loyalty and discipline, two more tenets of the six pillars; my purpose, my duty.

Carlin released my arms and stretched himself alongside me. Though he stood at my height, he was a half body's width wider. Lean muscles built from hard work, skin browned from days outdoors, hair sprinkled with sun-kissed love, Carlin was no gentleman wearing fine coats and gloves. Rather, he was born into poverty and raised in the hamlet closest to Aldorr Castle.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his body, following his finger in my mind as it feathered down my throat, between my breasts, and along my stomach to circle my belly button while I listened to the distance flock of frogmouths sing their mournful song as they sought shelter away from the threat of rain.

I heard the rustle of hay, then felt his lips brush across my bare shoulder. "I have but one love."

I smiled without opening my eyes. "Your dog?"

"Hmm... I was thinking of something a little less slobbery."

"Your shoes?"

He trailed his lips across my shoulder to my throat, a languid trail sending warm tingles to my nipples. "Cuddlier."

"Your blanket?"

"Exactly," he whispered onto the skin at my nape.

I playfully smacked his shoulder and pushed him away so I could look into his muscovite eyes. It was my turn to twirl loose strands of hair, the untamed threads covering his brow. His hair was like him, beautiful yet unruly.

But I could never say the words he longed to hear, no matter that they grew within that place locked in my heart.

His face grew solemn, and I wanted to wipe it away and bring back my Carlin, the one who made my heart smile.

"I know things will change," he said.

I trailed my finger across his forehead. "Not my title. Or the expectations."

"We've survived both this last year," he continued.

"For as long as it takes, we'll survive more," I whispered against his lips. We both knew we were doomed. We only had our kisses, bodies, and words—and the silent promises neither of us could keep.

"Your Highness," Radnisa called from outside the stable door.

Carlin pulled away from my desperate kiss. "How does she do it?"

How did she find us every time, regardless of our caution? I wouldn't tell him, and it wasn't a lie because half the time I asked the same question.

My lady-in-waiting disapproved of Carlin, disapproved of all my activities beyond my official duties. Her husband, Baron Ledredon, had the ear of my father, the king, and sat within his council. Even so, I trusted Radnisa would keep this secret because she had far too many secrets of her own.

"Shh," Carlin whispered, pressing a finger to my lips. "You're not here."

I gently pulled his finger away. "I can't escape my father nor the Sistern. Radnisa would not disturb me if it were neither."

With a sigh of surrender, Carlin rolled to the side and slid from between my legs, allowing the cool breeze to replace the warmth of his body. Already, I ached to be with him again; already I counted the days.

Carlin tried to shake the volumes of my dress straight and plucked random strands of straw from between the stays while I slipped into my undergarments.

"Your Highness." Radnisa's voice was more insistent this time.

Carlin screwed up his face, mimicking her call, not bothering to hide his loathing. Though they rarely spoke, it was in the looks they exchanged their mutual disrespect for each other.

I giggled and kissed him to silence, then extracted myself from his greedy, grasping hands and moved toward the ladder. Carlin rushed to head me off, grabbing my waist and spinning me around, then proceeded to gather armfuls of my dress and tuck them into my undergarments, creating a billowing effect at my middle.

"I won't have you trip and break your royal neck." Then he seized my cheeks between his palms and kissed me as if he could force me to stay. And I felt the lure. For one precious moment, I tumbled into the fantasy that I could hide up here with him forever.

The fantasy didn't last. I pulled away from his kiss. "I have to go."

"I know," he whispered back.

I didn't look at him again. The moment was gone.

The ladder was an easy descent, even with my ridiculous skirts. At the bottom, I loosened everything from my undergarments and hastened to the stable door, straightening my clothes and hair as best I could. When I reached the doorway, I was once again Princess Tressya.

Radnisa's back was to me when I stepped outside. She glanced over her shoulder, her lips pinched tight, then slowly her gaze worked its way down from my face to the front of my dress, her lip curling in disdain. She was taller than me, her back straighter, her bearing more dignified, and her eyes sharper. And she was a snake.

"Your dress is not fit to be seen."

I glanced down, stroking the front of my skirt with no hope of smoothing it out.

"There's hay in your hair."

"Oh?" I ran my fingers through my hair, convinced I had rescued every strand, but found some speared through the elaborate braid behind my ear.

She heaved a sigh, seeming to grow even taller with her exhale. "You have no time to make yourself more presentable. The Mother Divine is here."

My hands froze midway through my hair. "What?"

"You have kept her waiting." Radnisa's cat-like eyes of watery green sliced across to me before she turned away, dismissing me with that one move. "She's most displeased."

"I'll head there now." I gathered my skirts, readying for my dash.

"Advisable." She scrutinized my crinkled dress one more time, and already I could see the Mother's displeasure through Radnisa's eyes.

I fled toward Aldorr Castle, leaving Radnisa behind to pick her way with more care across the sodden yards of the stables. The young goats galloped alongside their pens as I hurried past, scattering ducks and clucking chickens in a flurry of feathers. My shoes sunk into the sludge, as did my skirts, roughly gathered in my arms.

The gentle slope upward toward the church hampered my pace as I ran across the lush green lawn. The bone-white marble of Aldorr Castle tinged a sickly light gray against the ominous clouds, threatening to loosen their load.

A guard stumbled out of his post in the brick wall as I fled past and dashed underneath Staffork Bridge in a flurry of mud-stained skirts. I was gasping for breath when I turned right at the cobbled courtyard, the small chapel, tucked close to the servants' quarters, now in sight.

When I finally reached the chapel doors, I took a moment to release my skirts and tidy myself, then covered my nose with my hands and inhaled deeply. The smell of Carlin remained deep within the tiny creases lining the skin on my palms. One inhale for fortitude. And one for me.

Once my breathing leveled, I pushed open the old wooden doors and entered the small, ill-used chapel. King Regnier built the chapel for his long-dead queen, or so everyone thought—I happened to know it was for another woman entirely. Now he had little time or patience for cleansing his soul. Everyone within his household shared his lack of faith with enthusiasm, so the cobwebs hung across the narthex like the massive chandeliers adorning the king's ballroom.

Mother Divine stood at the front, staring up at Goddess Eheia, whose piety and benevolence to the ostracized and poor saw her rejected by her cruel lover, Dadteus, God of hunters, fighters, and all things unjust. I suspected Father only kept Eheia in her place within this chapel to ease his guilty conscience.

The small arched window on the left drew in little light, shrouding the Mother in the chapel's gloom. Few ever bothered to light the candles. Dressed entirely in black, she formed a dark contrast to Eheia's marble white. Her appearance was not the only stark divide between the two women. Without looking away from Eheia, Mother Divine eased herself back into the front pew and awaited my arrival.

I came around to stand in front of the Mother, slipping to my knees at the last and leaning forward to kiss the emerald stone on her ring.

"Mother, I would've come earlier?—"

"You still waste your time with that boy?"

I stayed on my knees, feeling the heat of her gaze as I stared at the worn stone floor. I didn't need to look to see the condescension she wore in her expression. Her eyes were like a hawk's, so dark at first glance they seemed black, and all-seeing.

"I take my tinctures nightly. There'll be no mistakes." Hearing the defense in my voice, I fisted my hands at my sides.

I heard the thunk of the church door closing. Radnisa had already arrived. She must have also rushed here, not wanting to miss a single punitive word the Mother said.

"Make sure of it. Nobody loves a bastard."

The word was like a slap to my face. With a sharp inhale, I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my head to meet her disapproving gaze. Dark-lined eyes, recessed deep under her brow, stared back at me, unblinking. Her elaborate headdress created more shadows across her face, hiding the myriad of creases chiseled from decades of disapproval and the strain of bearing the weight of Mother Divine to the Sistern of Silence.

The king acknowledged me as his daughter out of devotion to his lost love, my mother his mistress, and not out of compassion for me. It mattered little because the Mother rescued me from the disgraced life of a bastard child by accepting me into the Sistern, teaching me their practices and disciplines. An ice heart like the Mother's was needed to become an exemplar of the six pillars and master of soul voice.

I needed the six pillars, just as I needed the Mother's teachings, and the strength and power they gave me to survive the cruelty of my life. In the Sistern, I learned a great many things, but most importantly how to shield my heart.

I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder, knowing Radnisa had positioned herself behind me. Judging from the rustle of her skirt, she had moved close.

"Of course, Mother. I'll never forget."

"Twenty-three years. It's time you fulfill your duty to the Sistern."

"I practice the disciplines every day, Mother. My duty lives in the front of my mind. As always. I'm a disciple before all else." I disappointed the Mother and myself every day I failed to achieve the disciplines to satisfaction.

I should've released Carlin long ago.

"As your mother would have you be." Her eyes narrowed, slitting like a cat. "Remember that." My birth mother was the perfect disciple—unlike me. That was the only piece of information about her the Mother shared.

Her gaze traveled over the top of me, meeting Radnisa's behind. The first prickles of tension coiled their way through my stomach and across my shoulders.

"King Regnier has made his decision. He signs his alliance as I speak. But I'll not have my plans ruined."

I stayed silent, wondering what she was talking about. As disciples, our purpose was to obey, never question or try to understand. I knew the Mother would reveal her reason for traveling to Aldorr Castle at her discretion, disclosing her intentions when she deemed necessary. Most of the time, she let little slip. It must have something to do with the king's eldest daughter, my half-sister, Edilene, because the Mother never interested herself with matters concerning men.

"I give my life to your service," I repeated, not for the first time and never for the last.

"Repeat the six pillars."

"Loyalty, discipline, courage, precision, secrecy, discretion."

"Loyalty."

"To the Mother Divine, then to one's sisters. Finally, to oneself."

"Discipline."

"Steadfast mind and fearless heart through rigorous training."

"Courage."

"Never waver from what must be done."

The chapel's creaking side door shattered the silence that followed. I held my breath, unclenching my palms to feel the clamminess of my sweat. The soft tread of slipped feet across the stone floor flurried an itch up my neck. I longed to look over my shoulder but held the Mother's gaze, as was expected of me.

All my attention remained on the newcomer and Radnisa behind me. Now there were two of them: one so close a single slice was all she needed, the other carrying more hatred in her veins than blood.

"Precision." The pillars were now forced into the recesses of my mind.

I struggled to wrench it forward. "Never miss," I whispered.

The rustling of fabric alerted me to Radnisa's attack. I caught the flurry of movement in my periphery, already raising my arm to defend. I dropped to my knees and swiveled, blocking her strike with my forearm, then knocking her blade sideways.

With her hold firm on the hilt, she countered with a fierce jab forward, but I was already on my feet and dancing to the side.

Her striking arm inhibited by her position next to me, I came in with my elbow, jabbing her hard on the back of her shoulder. Her weight caved forward and her grip loosened on the blade, sending it clattering to the stones.

Defeating Radnisa wasn't easy. She went with her fall, swiping the blade from the ground before I could reach it, and rolled to her feet. But I was already barreling toward her. I kicked her in the stomach, and my skirts flared, momentarily hindering my vision.

Still coming to her feet, the kick destroyed her balance. Radnisa went backward, losing the blade once more. I rushed for it, but another caught the blade mid-air.

Edilene swiped up in a small arc, catching me on the lower arm. I bit back my cry and danced out of her reach. But Edilene was a vicious fighter when it came to me, and she charged forward with a flurry of strikes that I was powerless to avoid. She nicked the back of my jaw, a carefully placed cut that no one would see to teach me a lesson.

I jerked my head away from her next slice, evading another counter stab by arching my body away. Cutting off Edilene's advantage was the only way to defeat her, moving forward instead of backward, marrying the delicate balance between discipline, precision, and courage.

Escaping her jabs, I rushed toward the altar and swiped up the candelabra from its setting, its candles falling to the ground. She smirked at me as she crossed the blade from one hand to the other, her usual taunt.

"Really, sister? That's all you can do. No wonder your mother left you. You're pathetic."

My mother died birthing me. Hardly a choice, but I wouldn't bother to speak it.

I shook her words aside and concentrated on the task at hand. When she believed she'd won, the words flowed, and right now, Edilene smelled her victory. Speaking was a distraction, dividing my focus from my target, so my habit was silence. Instead, I watched her eyes, her shoulders, her chest—the details that signaled her next strike the moment she set the intention—ensuring I moved in opposition before she had even begun.

"I might just chop it into little pieces."

I tore at the hem of my skirts, dismantling the lace and undergarments, anything that hindered my movement. Miraculously, she patiently watched as I freed my legs.

Edilene was bold, overly so, for a good reason. She was good. Better than me. Something she made sure I knew. Repeatedly. But I was determined, maybe more so than she. Too many times I'd proven myself unworthy in the Mother Divine's eyes, too many stings regardless of how shielded I thought my heart to be. I couldn't surrender.

Courage, discipline, precision. Of the six pillars, I held those three to my chest as tightly as I held my name, my title, my life.

"Or better still, I'll chop you into little pieces. How about your ear goes first?"

I matched her step for step as we circled each other. She was a caged lion, roar and jaws, bold and strong. I was a weasel, silent and adaptable, slippery and fast.

"Hmm," she crooned, dropping her sure-footed tread for a swagger. "You'll counter my right jab, move in low with a swift strike. But... if I were to wield two." She slipped a knife down her sleeve from under her cloak. "Then I'll be ready for your counter move."

Edilene was the one person who could sharpen my focus into a blade. By this stage, she had latched her focus onto me, giving me little of the valuable information I needed. Instead, I narrowed my concentration on her shoulders and chest, hoping to find a sign of which way she would strike. If she thought to strike with her left, it would begin with a twitch on the left side of her chest, echoing up into her shoulder before she moved her arm. Once I caught the subtle shift, my peripheral focus would drop to her legs in case she intended to follow through with a kick.

She read me as closely as I read her. The stark difference between us narrowed down to one thing: Edilene believed in her ability and worth far greater than me, to her benefit and detriment. Right now, I saw in her crystal-blue eyes a hatred foreign on such a beautiful face. Her hatred made her a dirty enemy. Though sometimes it made her desperate and foolish.

Today was different. There was something maniacal about her expression, an unsettling darkness behind her glare, twisting the solemnity on her face, the grace in her movements. There was no understanding Edilene's moods, and today she was sniffing my blood. When she stopped taunting, it was time to pay attention.

The first strike caught me off guard. She muffled her clues, but years of fighting against her meant there was little she could throw at me I wasn't ready to face.

I absorbed her strike, allowing her to get close before I swooped low and lashed out with my candelabra. Rather than blocking, I dove forward, aiming for her stomach, one fierce, fast jab before I dropped to the ground, feeling the swift shimmer of air overhead as she struck with the second blade.

Her furious cry and equally furious kick to my back followed as I rolled away. The impact sent me scrambling forward, tripping on the remaining hem of my skirts and tearing the last strips of fabric. Edilene arrived prepared, dressed in pantaloons, easily disguised under volumes of skirts she must have subtly discarded before entering the chapel. In short, Edilene came for this.

The fabric hindered my escape. My feet disappeared in a tangle of expensive lace, so I gave in and dropped into another roll, desperate to free my feet.

Edilene spared no time, striking me on the back of my elbow, one more streak of blood to smatter the pale green of my gown. I hissed through the sharp arrow of pain and came up in a semi-turn, with the candelabra, slamming it into her knee. She doubled back, her left leg buckling.

Already, I was on my feet, rushing forward, sending her blade clattering to the stone with a blow across her right arm. I came in too close, though, and Edilene's boot struck my side, sending a jolt of pain into my chest.

Gasping in shallow breaths through the pain, I struck again, using both hands to support the weight of the candelabra, now feeling like lead. I doubled my attack. As my desperation grew, I lost sight of the single most important pillar during a fight: precision. My strikes were wild, as frenzied as Edilene's had been at the start. She only needed to dodge until I burned myself out in my pain.

Instead, she continued to fight, perhaps sensing my end. In her fierce will to ground me out so thoroughly before the Mother, she became foolish, placing herself too close. I rewarded her mistake with a powerful blow of the candelabra to the back of her head.

Edilene lost her blades and her footing, tumbling forward to her knees. The edge of the candelabra was smeared with her blood, as was her silvery hair, now loosened from its elaborate knot.

I stepped forward, lifting the candelabra for my final strike. Nothing was ever decided until your opponent couldn't rise again; at least not so soon.

" Aetherius ," Edilene shrieked.

The word punched through my heart, encasing my body in a cast of stone. The candelabra remained poised in the air, but I was powerless to finish my strike.

"Your knees," Edilene snarled, clutching the back of her head while staggering to her feet. Her eyes, described by many suitors as jewels worth stealing, along with her heart, now flashed with a deathly fury.

"Get on your knees," she commanded.

Powerless, I succumbed. Though my mind screamed against its cage, my body was a victim to her demand.

Edilene used soul voice against me. In front of the Mother.

The candelabra clanked to the floor as I fell to my knees, already rerunning our fight through my mind, retracing every step I took, trying to determine other moves I could have made that would have silenced her before she uttered my soul word.

Loyalty, one of the greatest pillars, was for the Mother, but also the Sistern. It was forbidden to use another sister's soul word against her. In her rage, Edilene had broken the rule, hoping to reveal my biggest weakness: I had yet to master any defense against my soul word, that one undecipherable word that ruled my soul and rendered me powerless against the wielder of the word.

And while I could still speak, for now, I would not accuse her or look to the Mother for help. Pleading for the Mother's interference was a weakness I would never show.

Unsteady on her feet, she stumbled toward me, trailing blood as she came. On my knees before her, I was powerless to do anything more than accept the blow she gave to my left cheek.

"Enough," barked the Mother. "Bring her forth."

I had forgotten about Radnisa until she appeared beside me. Both she and Edilene clutched me under my arms and hauled me the short distance to the Mother, my feet dragging behind me. They shoved me into the Mother's lap, wrenching my arms out on either side of me at painful angles.

"You are of my making, but you're ill-prepared as you are," the Mother snapped down at me, her voice filled with the bitterness of tasting tart fruit. "Bare her chest."

It was Edilene's rough hands that tugged at my bodice, ripping the front garments right down to my chemise, pushing the fabric aside to expose the skin above my left breast.

I pressed my lips together, holding in my protests. Instead, I looked up into the Mother's dark eyes and refused to shift my gaze when I caught the glint of the blade in her hand.

"Prove to me your mother's sacrifice was not in vain."

And she slashed across the skin above my left breast with the small blade. I would not squeeze my eyes closed in reaction to the pain. Instead, I inhaled deeply. Neither would I look away. I held the Mother's eyes, my breathing growing faster as the flush of panic screamed at me to fight. Edilene tightened her hold on my arm, feeling the tension build in my muscles.

"Turn her face away," the Mother continued.

Edilene seized my chin and yanked my face toward her, forcing my eyes to meet the cold shards of her gaze. She didn't smile at my suffering, not even at the sudden burn, like a branding iron, spearing into my open wound that made me press my lips together hard enough to taste the iron of my blood. Instead, her fawn-like eyes narrowed into daggers, her features becoming the branding iron itself, marking me as her enemy until we were nothing more than aged bones in the ground.

A writhing, oily black mist clutched against my throat, scorching its wriggling filaments along my chin and down my neck, as if fighting against the Mother as she worked it down into my wound.

I inhaled but could no longer find the air to fill my lungs. The mist was suffocating, like hands at my throat.

I tried to steady the wild seizure threatening to blanket my head, but my fear was slowly winning.

Let courage become me.

As the agony splintered my mind, I couldn't control my focus enough to feel the words settle inside of me. The restraint of withholding my cry tore at my throat. Instead, I felt Edilene's fingers press against my skin as she held my head in place, digging her nails into my jaw.

Then, as suddenly as the attack began, it ended. Edilene and Radnisa released me, sending me backward onto my ass at the feet of the Mother, who glared down at me with merciless judgment.

I shuffled backward, glancing down at my bleeding wound with its blackened edges, seeping a watery gray fluid. The throb pounded through my head. I swallowed to settle the wild rage of my heart and peered up at the Mother, then flicked my eyes to Edilene and Radnisa standing on either side of the Mother.

"You think me without heart?"

"Never, Mother."

"Come here."

Head bowed as I kneeled before her, I held my breath at the first touch of her finger under my chin. She tilted my head up. "I have not spared you from the hardships of your life for good reason."

"There is no success without sacrifice and pain."

"As a woman that's especially true. Few woman have any power in this world, but with the six pillars as your shield none can touch you." She leaned down and placed her hand gently over my heart. "Always remember that."

"As a loathed bastard your life has known much suffering, but within the Sistern you're more than an illegitimate daughter."

"Every day I'm grateful for what you've given me."

"Your mother chose this life for you. It was her gift to you. The six pillars are mine."

"I hold it in my heart."

She glanced at my wound. "Now I have raised you above the rest of your sisters."

I faltered before replying. "Thank you, Mother." What had she done to me?

"Repeat the third pillar to me again."

"Courage. Never waver from what must be done."

She nodded. "We all must sacrifice ourselves for the might of the Sistern. Live by the six pillars and you'll succeed. Your duty to the Sistern has just begun. Go."

I burned to know what the Mother had put in me, but neither Edilene nor Radnisa would tell me, if they even knew. The three of us were not of the first order, those within the inner circle, the closest to the Mother Divine, and so the two of them would simply accept the Mother's actions as a necessity to further the Sistern's purpose.

I dragged my feet underneath me, getting caught in more of my tattered hem. The ragged edges of my torn skirts dusted the stone as I retreated down the church aisle.

"The first pillar, Tressya," the Mother called before I made it halfway.

I didn't look around as I replied. "Loyalty."

"The Sistern are you family."

"Always, Mother."

Outside, the gloom of early evening swallowed my disheveled appearance and my fear. I took a moment to stand outside the door and steady myself, the shuddering echo of my soul word still slowing my mind and body as if I was encased in bands of iron. I regretted my choice when Edilene appeared. It was too late, but I would not walk away. Instead, I looked over my shoulder at her.

She stepped in front of me, this time leaning down so I could see the bands of white slicing across the blue in her eyes, giving them the appearance of fractured glass. "You stole from me." She jabbed at her chest. "It was meant to be me. I will make sure you pay for this. That is my solemn vow."

Everything about me, who I was, my lowly status within the palace, including my possessions, was stolen from Edilene, according to her, even though our father held her in greater esteem.

She blocked my path for moments more, ensuring I understood how deep her venom ran before turning away.

I watched her leave, wondering what this destiny was that she wanted so badly. I rubbed around the wound on my chest, feeling it throb still.

Whatever the fate, it was now mine. For the Mother, and for my birth mother, I would fulfill my duty.