Page 13 of A Broken Promise (the Freckled Fate #1)

13

Y ellow tassels at the top of the large curtains lazily swayed from the touch of the night breeze creeping in from a slightly opened window. Occasional owls’ hoots and crickets’ melody came from the miles of dark forests below. The night seemed so peaceful.

I laid still in my bed, pretending to be asleep. Orest was long gone, replaced by Broderick and another soldier. Brita didn’t visit either and neither did the General. Unfinished, now cold, left-over dinner in a silver tray was still on the large coffee table by the couch. The day went by too quickly and now under the cover of the darkness, my thoughts raced faster than ever. This time I didn’t fight them. I didn’t try to calm them down. I let the fury rise.

The words of the Destroyer General were branded in my mind.

Tomorrow.

We will leave tomorrow.

For better or for worse, my circumstances were going to change tomorrow.

As if my own torture, Dimitrii’s agonizing death played nonstop in my mind. His face twisted in pain, his convulsing body and ashes as if just small specks of dust scattered in the wind.

He deserved his death. I should feel relieved that there was one less prick in the world, but where I hoped relief and satisfaction would come, now gushed more uncertainty and anguish.

That could’ve been me. Should have been me. And yet I was fine. Alive, and now wrapped underneath my heavy covers. My wounds quickly healing, scars and burns itching as new layers of skin formed.

Maybe it was Fate or maybe it was just pure luck, it didn’t matter to me. I hated the anticipation, the lack of control over my existence.

Kill me now or let me be free.

And maybe it was the exquisite food or the day full of rest and sleep, but I was tired of waiting. I was done bargaining with Fate.

Whether gods wanted it or not, tomorrow, things were going to change, and I would make sure of it.