Page 12 of A Broken Promise (the Freckled Fate #1)

12

H eavy curtains were pushed to the side, exposing the bright day sun, letting the little rays dance with specks of dust in the air. I rubbed my eyes harshly, waking up from what had felt like my most restful night in years.

My mind was clear, thoughts well organized. A refreshing change given the last few days. Though I was acutely aware of my current circumstances, my despair was somehow replaced with fortitude.

New soldiers in their dark silver armor were stationed by my door, their emotionless figures cold, missing the comforting warmth of Orest. I pulled off one of the smaller blankets and wrapped it around myself. There was no need to flash more soldiers with my sheer nightgown. With a dress in one hand and a makeshift blanket robe in the other, I slowly made it to the bathroom.

The dress was simple yet elegant; soft, lilac satin with small shoulder straps and a square neckline. The skirts went all the way down to the floor with a knee-high slit on both sides. I ran my hand against the lovely fabric.

Somehow, I always imagined my first nice dress would be a wedding one.

It seemed an eternity ago when Oliver…when my Ollie and I would talk about our upcoming marriage, cuddled up against a mossy tree. We spent so many late summer nights daydreaming about our future together. Even Tuluma, who hated all humans, secretly saved coin for our wedding.

We are meant to be , Ollie once said to me, and I wholeheartedly believed him. Yet in one day, I lost them both. My family, my past, and my future all turned to ash, leaving only small glimpses of memories left behind.

Now, covered in the richest silks and satins, with tulle and laces, I was a slave, not a bride. So far off from the life the seventeen-year-old me yearned for.

The small rainbows from the stained-glass window covered my skin in a wave-like pattern. I should’ve been ecstatic that I spent the night securely asleep and not brutally tortured by the General. I should’ve been glad. Fate granted me a gift.

But I fully knew that to Fate, this was all a game, and I was just a simple pawn.

T he manor was welcoming in the morning light. Escorted by the soldiers, I walked towards the large garden. Trees and flower beds with metal benches around them created a large sitting area. Enormous marble vases full of blooming flowers were lining the stone path from the garden to the tables, covered with ivory tablecloths. Ice sculptures of dragons breathing fire and water nymphs served as decorations between the never-ending rows of fine dishes and eatery. Neatly dressed servants carried massive trays with all manner of drinks. A string quartet was deep into another classical melody.

Gathered in small groups, all kinds of ladies and gentlemen conversed, only occasionally passing glances toward me. They were all clearly Royals. Familial connections or friends, they were here to pay their respect and dues to the Mad Queen and her well known vicious General.

It didn’t take long for me to find him in the crowd. In the sea of colors and outrageous dresses and outfits, he chose to wear a well-fitted black suit with a black silk shirt underneath. He stood tall, surrounded by Royal ladies of all ages grinning up at him, shamelessly flashing their half bare busts covered in a myriad of precious metals and stones. My simple satin dress looked more like a nightgown compared to their gowns.

Yet the embarrassment didn’t come from not being dressed to code. No, the source of my embarrassment was a loud cry coming from an elderly woman not too far from me. Her eyes were locked on my back, finger pointing. My jaw clenched involuntarily as I took a long breath, realizing where her finger was pointing—my scars. My fucking scars were exposed, thanks to the low cut back of the dress. My now-chopped hair did nothing to hide them.

I took a second longer to open my eyes from a blink. The entirety of the crowd was now looking at me. I wasn’t sure if they were more shocked or scared. Granted, I didn’t care either way. I doubted any of them ever saw a survivor from the Rock Quarries before, or even ever thought about the possibility of one surviving. Or maybe if they did, they never thought I would stand in their presence, participating in their social hour.

However, that embarrassment didn’t last long as it was replaced by the growing anticipation of why .

He wanted me here. Given the dress, and the scars… the timing.

Loud bells chimed in my mind, sounding the alert.

Why bring me here now?

I had no doubt the General had a plan for everything.

Yesterday, I served as a tool to degrade Lord Inadios. And today…

I quickly raked in all the possibilities. There weren’t that many, but all lay on a scale from magic shows to public execution. I swallowed hard, trying to weather the brewing storm in my mind.

There were a lot more Destroyer soldiers stationed all over the garden and around the manor. The Royal guards stationed in small groups seemed so harmless in their burgundy leather uniforms against the dark armor of the Destroyers.

My eyes paused when I saw Dimitrii walking a step behind Lord Inadios. He didn’t have a limp anymore, though smaller bandages were still on his face. Even long after I am gone, that scar would forever serve as a reminder to him of the slave girl who fought back.

Shock in the crowd was quickly replaced by intrigue. As if a shadow, the Destroyer General silently approached me from behind. Small whispers and not so subtle glances towards us rolled in a wave. My body tensed in his presence, breaths becoming so shallow, I almost panted. I closed my eyes only to remember Viyak’s tall figure from my dream.

Meek and obedient.

I willed myself as I turned to face him .

“My Master High Lord General Commander.” I bent my body in half, bowing so low it hurt. I wasn’t sure if the nausea came back from the sharp pain in my abdomen or the fact that I was bowing to a child murderer.

My blood boiled at that thought.

This was low, even for me. I might have been a slave, bound and naked; I might have been homeless and lost, but I always fought for what was right, stood up to the oppressors. Yet at some point, surviving broke me, because here I was now, bowing to the monster.

Were righteous morals a worthy cause to die and break promises already made?

“Rise,” he ordered. A little shiver went through me. His voice was so unsettling, like smoke slithering through my skin, deep in my soul to haunt me. I rose but didn’t dare meet his eyes. Instead, I eyed a small red mark on his neck.

A bite mark.

My bite mark.

He was almost flaunting it with the unbuttoned collar of his crisp shirt. I would've been embarrassed if I were him. Yet he was not bothered by it at all.

Such a great General bit by a rabid slave?

I pushed the concerning confusion out of the way and let myself dwell on the fact that there were not one but two male pricks in this gathering with fresh scars thanks to my defiance. A small detail, though still a win.

“Walk with me,” he commanded. The two soldiers that escorted me quickly found new positions to take.

Cocky of him to let the soldiers go so easily, when the wounds from my attack were still fresh on his skin. But without any objection, I walked alongside him until we reached tables full of food.

“Get some food.” Another command.

It seemed that nausea was now a constant part of my life, so it wasn’t hard to ignore it as I shoved small bites of food on my plate. With an overfilled plate, I followed him to a small metal bench. Another command, and I sat while he stood ahead of me, observing the crowd in front, occasionally nodding in acknowledgement to the patrons passing by.

A few bites of sugared pastries and I dared to look up. The General was exchanging a few words with another Lord, his calloused hands gripping together behind his back, as if taunting me, reminding me that at one motion of his fingertips, Cleansing Fire would be blazing through me.

I squeezed the small dessert fork in my hand. If I was fast enough, I could stab him in the heart, perhaps? The silver fork probably wasn’t long enough to go through layers of his thick muscles, but I could jam it hard enough for him to have another scar from me.

I raised my brow, considering it. A plan, though not a very good one.

Commotion spread through the gathering when I finally saw Orest and Broderick and to my concern, a smug Dimitrii marching towards us. The two Destroyer soldiers walked casually, expressionless. Dimitrii seemed arrogant—though a bit annoyed as he saw me.

I anxiously watched them make their way through the crowd to us. To me…

My muscles tensed and I held on to my fork.

A familiar tingling feeling inside of me awoke and begged to run, yelled to get away now. But I couldn’t. I wished I could listen to its warning plea for once .

“You have all gathered here to pay heeds to my armies and my soldiers, to give gratitude to the Order, and to plead your allegiance to the Queen. Royals have long been reaping the benefits of our Great Rule.” The General’s voice was quite blatant; the crowd went incredibly silent, even my uneven breathing seemed to be too loud.

He paused, observing the crowd. “Yet yesterday, I was attacked in this house.” Loud gasps and murmurs now sounded through the crowd.

The edges of the fork cut hard into my hand. Public execution it is, then.

I should stab him right now . Stab him before he says another word. But frozen as a sheep at the slaughter, I sat motionless.

Pathetic.

“By Destroyer laws, I have the right to incinerate this entire house, for such an assault that happened on your lands, under your rule.” His eyes went to Inadios as the crowd surrounding him took a few steps away from him, leaving him stranded.

I could smell fear on him, his face turning bright red, fidgeting with his sausage-like fingers as he opened his mouth, but the General continued.

“But I hope today serves as a reminder to all of you that Destroyers are always just and kind, and value loyalty of those who obey. That our patience and restraint are never ending.”

Dimitrii huffed, earning a sharp, irritated look from Orest.

“The punishment by death will be placed on the one responsible for the attack,” the General carried on.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. My life didn’t flash before me, I hadn’t lived long enough for that. My soul didn’t tremble from fear, but from the broken truth of longing for the end. Longing for those who I love, who have long crossed this line, though drops of regret, as if dye in the water, tinted my soul. Regret, that I had never lived up to the promise I made so many summers ago amidst the burning trees.

To live a better life.

Shame.

It was shame masked as sorrow as I took my last breath .

Loud screams abruptly interrupted my tangled thoughts. I opened my eyes to see the crowd panicking and screaming. Some were frozen in terror. Some were hastily attempting to jump out of the garden area because it was now surrounded by a ring of white flames.

Surrounded, Destroyer soldiers stood guard without letting anyone out, as if herding prey.

My mouth dropped open in complete shock when I saw Dimitrii. His skin was untouched, yet silver flames came out from his mouth, his eyes, his ears. His face twisted with pure agony as Cleansing Fire burned him from the inside out, turning his blood to liquid fire. Orest and Broderick held him up as the Destroyer General nonchalantly crossed the distance between them. Unable to make a sound, Dimitrii's body was frantically convulsing in pain.

“This is what happens when you touch what’s mine,” the General said, cold hatred radiating from him. He watched Dimitrii burn for another minute, then with a single flick of his fingers, the entirety of Dimitrii’s body immediately turned to nothingness—small specks of white ash, withered in the summer breeze, never to be seen again.

I gasped for oxygen, but as if those ashes poisoned the air, painfully, I suffocated. My lungs burned as my heart raced at impossible speeds. The bright flames of Dimitrii’s eyes flashed behind my eyes with each blink, adrenaline making my brain cloudy and my vision blackening.

Orest’s fluorescent gray eyes seized mine. Breathe, he silently willed. My lungs, as if on command, slowly opened. Breathe in and out . My chest expanded unevenly, letting the cool air in, heart beating intensely.

Breathe in and out.

“She is having another panic attack,” Orest muttered to the General. “Probably going to pass out again.”

The General rubbed his temples and then yawned. They were completely unphased by what had just happened, their voices calm and calculating. He turned to watch the rapidly fleeing crowd, no longer surrounded by the soldiers or the ring of fire.

“I still have a few more things to take care of but we will leave tomorrow. For now, take her back in and keep watch.” Orest quickly nodded and approached me.

“Come with me.” He extended his hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes lingered on the towering figure of the General departing away from us. The remaining Royalty all bowed as he walked past them. He sat down amidst a group of few Lords that, unlike the crowd, were calm though clearly intrigued. So casually he picked up the conversation, as if nothing had happened, as if he didn’t turn a man—a whole man and his soul—into ash.

“Can you walk?” Orest must have asked me this twice because before I could answer, he already had me picked up and put me over his shoulder. Refocusing, I quickly blurted out.

“I’ll walk…Yes, I can walk.”

Surprisingly, he hastily set me back on the ground.

“Sorry, you didn’t look like you could at the moment,” he said. I adjusted my twisted skirts. “Just don’t pass out on me this time. Deal?” Orest smiled and offered his arm for support, but I refused.

We walked as fast as my body allowed. However, broken bones and burns were of little concern to me now. My mind was stuck in perpetual hell, I realized. As if an animal in a cage—aware, yet unable to do anything about it.

But Orest’s welcoming earthy scent of oak and lavender calmed me, almost putting me to sleep by the time we made it to the room.

I laid on the couch. Orest stood by the door only a few steps away from it. Heavy silence filled the room as I lost myself to the deep pit of never-ending thoughts.

“Why do you work for him ?” I finally mumbled.

I couldn’t stop myself from wondering about that. Orest was unlike any other Destroyer I had met, yet still somehow one of them.

His shoulders stiffened and he awkwardly scratched the back of his head, rustling the burgundy curls. His dark armor shimmered against the afternoon rays peeking through the slightly curtained windows.

“Because it is my privilege and honor as a Destroyer to be a soldier and to follow the greatest general and leader there is,” he replied.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but his reply stung a bit. The greatest General and leader. The greatest murderer. The greatest monster. The greatest torturer. A part of me wanted to debate him, to argue and fight, but I was so utterly exhausted—completely drained—that I just let out a long sigh. Orest’s lips curved up. “Not the answer you were hoping for?”

“No,” I said, taking another look at him. He rested his hands on the tilt of the sheathed sword at his side. “Do you ever get tired of just standing there?”

He raised his eyebrows in question, amused.

“What? I am guessing that armor isn’t light,” I said, tugging on the ends of my bandages.

Orest chuckled.

“No. But you do get used to it. Though at times, my back does get stiff, guarding duties are usually not a thing that I do.”

This time I chuckled at this little truth between us.

“Will I die?” I asked calmly. My voice didn’t tremble, and my brain didn’t run panicking as the realization of the question settled in.

“I wouldn’t put it past you, considering you bit the General yesterday,” he softly teased. I turned to face him, letting him see the little embers of coal still flickering in my eyes with craving for life.

He added, “We all die, Finn. Some are just meant to pave the way.”

I didn’t ask any questions after.