Page 26

There is an enormous protective stone wall, a barrier separating the rich from the poor. Its walls are weathered with imperfections from countless seasons. Towers and battlements speckle the wall, serving as a lookout for attacks from neighboring kingdoms or a herd of Necrums.

Outside the protective embrace of the cold stone wall, the city’s outskirts stretch into the horizon. The homes are smaller still. The houses are run down and weathered, but still not as dilapidated as the houses in the Drifts. The Drifts are so far out on the kingdom’s edge, I can’t even see it from here. But I don’t want to think of my old home and what my life could have been had things not gone awry.

I lie back down, thinking of the day. I have fire magic! Wishing my father was around, I wonder what he would have thought about it. I was always closer to my father than my mother. My father was my everything. I loved my mother, and I know she loved me; however it was not the same connection. When he died, I think a part of me died too. When my mother left me to go off and die by herself. I felt empty and broken. I may have had a husband, but I would have been better off alone. Being with someone and still feeling completely alone is a different type of torture. I wish she would have just let me help her in her last days. But I don’t want to think about that either.

I pull a sheet over me and roll to my side, feeling the wind caress me from the window. I close my eyes, hoping to drift into a deep sleep. Before I can fall into the black abyss of sleep, a pair of green eyes dance around in my mind.

When morning comes, I am not feeling all that rested. I dreamt of shadows and coldness that chilled me to my bones—shadows all around me, watching and lurking in every corner. An uneasy feeling creeps up my spine when I notice that my window is shut. I know I had it open when I fell asleep. The wind… the wind must have somehow pulled it shut.

A sudden knock on the door startles me.

“Enter?” I call, though it comes out more like a question.

“Miss Reign?” a soft-spoken, curly redhead says as she walks into the room.

I immediately sit up. “Ah, yes. How can I help you?”

“I was sent here to help you. My name is Sasha. I will be your servant for the entirety of your stay.”

I look at her golden eyes that remind me so much of Larah’s. She has freckles splattered all over her beautiful face. “I, uh… I don’t need a servant. I can handle what I need.”

“I am sure you can, miss, but why not let me help while you are here?” She smiles kindly at me and walks over. “Are the clothes to your liking? Do they fit you?”

“Yes, they fit.” The dresses are actually a little big, and I hate dresses, but I don’t need to tell her that. Before my time in the Hollows, I only wore dresses. Now I despise them.

“Alright. Well, let’s get you dressed and ready for breakfast. You are eating in the main dining room with everyone today—King’s orders.”

“Oh.” I know my face must show my shock. I was not expecting to eat with everyone. We may be their contestants, but we are technically prisoners. I am suddenly nervous. I hate the royals. They are vile, evil bastards that can’t be trusted. Plus, I have never really been near royals until recently.

“I see. I guess you were not informed. No worries. I will help you get ready.” She goes to the armoire and pulls out a deep navy-blue dress with a cream-color corset. I groan to myself. I miss wearing pants.

“Is something wrong, miss? Do you not like the color?” she asks, picking up on my groan.

I guess I groaned out loud. “The color is just fine, thank you.”

She cocks her head to the side while placing her hands on her hips. She gives me an expression that tells me she can see straight through my lie. “What would you wear if you had other options?”

“A tunic and a pair of pants,” I reply, guiltily, knowing I should be thankful to not be in a prison, gray uniform.

“I will be right back,” Sasha says, disappearing out the door. I use the moment to head into the washroom and brush the knots from my hair. When I return to the room, she’s placing clothes into the armoire.

“Here, I picked this out for you today, and I placed some other tunics and pants in the armoire,” she says, holding out a plum tunic and a dark pair of pants with black boots. “These are fine for the day, but if you are invited to dinners, it would be considered disrespectful for a lady to show up in anything other than a dress.”

I could squeal from excitement. “Thank you, Sasha.” I place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She looks at me, smiling. “You are very welcome, miss.”

“Please, call me Reign.” She nods. “Who sent you, the King?”

She stops loading the clothes in the armoire, and looks at me carefully before answering. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I was just told to serve here.” She smiles, returning to her work. I quickly get dressed, tucking my palm blades into my pants. Sitting me in a chair, she begins to braid my hair. I shift uncomfortably. I am not used to being pampered at all. It is actually making me a bit uneasy.

“Alright, I will take you to the dining room. Is there anything I can get and have sent to your room for later? Do you like to journal or read? Play cards, perhaps?”

“I love to read.” I haven’t read in so long. In the Drifts, I would trade books with some of my neighbors. I miss reading.

“What type of book would you like? I will go to the library and pick one out for you.”

“Surprise me. Anything will be fine.”