Page 35 of A Broken Promise (the Freckled Fate #1)

35

“ I n here,” Priya yelled again. I took a few more quick steps to her quarters. Priya’s office door was wide open. The room was spacious, just like every other room in the house. The large, wooden beams ran through the tilted ceiling, and the carved antler and wood chandelier sat high in the well-lit room. The wall high windows behind the dramatically large desk were slightly curtained by the deep burgundy fabric, the silver tassels running loose along the heavy carpeted floor.

Grand bookshelves were filled with all manner of texts and books, tiny to large bronze and silver statues decorated the space in between. Priya sat on her large, out-of-place purple chair. Even in sweat-covered workout clothes and ruffled, messy hair, she looked like a damn queen on a throne. I stopped by the desk. Priya sat still, staring at the display of all manner of rings in the black velvet box. There had to be over fifty of them, each so unique with many different stones and designs. All exquisite.

“What are those?” I asked. I had never seen Priya wear them.

“These are the Royal rings I’ve collected so far,” Priya drew out, her eyes on the empty spot between them all.

I sat down on one of the chairs, not too far from her desk. “These are your trophies, you mean.” One look at Priya’s eyes, her predator’s gaze, the possessiveness and obsessiveness were very clear. Priya was a collector. She never left a kill empty handed. Always a thing, always something of value to her.

“There is one missing. That’s why we are going to the ball, isn’t it?”

“Look at you, being clever,” Priya said, running her finger over some of the rings, slowly, as if reliving each one of those executions. “It’s missing two actually. One of them, the kill was already done, yet I never got my ring.” Her eyes slightly narrowed, stopping on that small empty space.

“Why Royals?” I asked intently.

“Why not? You’d think, you as a Rebel lover would be excited for the death of another rotten Royal, you know.”

Though I wasn’t excited for yet another death, I wouldn’t object to it.

“I am not some Rebel lover .” I scowled, aware of the implication of Priya’s words.

“You can say whatever you want but I know you’ve been sneaking behind my back, collecting their rotten propaganda.” Priya narrowed her eyes on me. I stared back in those shimmery, copper eyes, determined.

I would not be intimidated. Though, there was no point in hiding it.

“It’s not propaganda, it’s called history books, Priya. Just because they are forbidden or restricted doesn’t mean that it changes history or the truth, it only means we are not aware of what has been happening all along.”

“And you think you will figure it out after reading a few so-called history books? You give yourself too much credit, Freckles.” Priya huffed, putting on one of the rings.

“I might not figure it out, but I’ll be damned if I had a chance to learn and I chose to ignore it.”

Ever since the death of Bornea Miteno, I had spent all my free time searching. Countless hours at the best of Svitar libraries, scavenging gods-forgotten antique shops and any kind of markets offering even something remotely ancient. There was so much to learn of the past, of magic. Of the history that was being so well rewritten.

Maybe I was getting obsessed and lost, but what else would I be doing with my life since I still had yet to discover an actual Rebel group.

“Whatever you say, Freckles. Whatever you say. I do hope you drop it soon…considering I’d have to take that precious necklace you wear around your neck back.”

My hand twitched, eager to clamp the eye-shaped stone pendant hanging by my heart, but I stilled it.

“You brought up the Rebels, not me.” I shrugged, pasting a soft smirk on my face. I’d have to be better. Sneakier, more cunning.

I had no intention of dropping it.

Priya adjusted a few rings before covering them with the large black lid.

“You are feisty today,” Priya noted, openly annoyed.

I calmed my heart, letting myself see her; really-really see her. Whatever her past was, whatever secrets she was hiding, I could look past it. Whatever it was, it was important to her. Valuable enough to put everything on the line.

I knew the risks. I also knew it had to be someone high in the Royal tree—could be the damn King himself—and it mattered to her, and I would look past it all and be there for her because truthfully, I wish someone could’ve been there for me.

She needed me here more than I needed to be heard.

“I guess I am still sore after losing our sparring today,” I casually said, placing a comforting smile on my face.

“Rebel lover and a sore loser? Well, you’d fit right in with them, I guess.” Priya cackled as she stood up from her desk. My eyes twitched as I chose to ignore her jab, a foul joke about the sympathizer that was loudly preaching at the town square about liberating humans and joining the Magic Wielders and yet when he was captured and sentenced to death he screamed and cried, begging for forgiveness. He’d taken it all back, denying his own words. I was there for his speech and his execution. A sad cry, a pathetic way to die, yet my heart broke in many pieces for him, and still ached even days after.

At times, I forgot just how daunting Death could be for people, even so quick as an ax to their necks. They never wanted to leave, clung with any chance they had to still exist, to fight for survival.

Death always walked alongside me. The only constant. Always there, just a step away from me, yet never willing to fully embrace me, to finally walk me across to the other side of the veil.

“I don’t have a dress for the ball,” I mentioned nonchalantly. It was better to switch topics completely.

“Good thing I know a place.”