Page 37 of A Broken Promise (the Freckled Fate #1)

37

T he sound of steaming pots and sharp knives chopping fresh veggies filled the otherwise quiet kitchen. Ratika, as usual, was silent. She chopped and peeled and prepped ten things at the same time across the room from me. The smell of roasted chicken and caramelized onions teased my nose.

“Ouch,” I hissed as I knicked a part of my finger and bright red blood seeped through the freshly broken skin. Ratika’s only response was a long pause from chopping to glare at me for disrupting her kitchen’s symphony.

“Sorry! It’s a deep cut,” I justified my gasp, now searching for a piece of cloth to wrap my finger.

The large copper bell that usually signaled deliveries rang loud, echoing from the stone walls.

Ratika huffed as she hung the kitchen towel on the rack, checking on her filled-to-the-brim pots.

“It’s okay, I got it,” I said, holding the rag against my bleeding finger. When Ratika silently questioned my competence for such a task, I motioned to her with my half-wrapped finger. “Let me get the delivery, unless you want blood in your food.” I smirked, knowing that she would sooner murder me before letting me ruin one of her masterpieces of a dish with blood, and I would totally agree with her on that.

Pushing past a few doors with my back, I finally made it to the servant’s entrance room where most of the deliveries were made. The small shelves and coat hangers were, as usual, empty, the stone-like tile cold and unwelcoming. I jerked the heavy door with one hand, keeping the other bent at the elbow up to keep from bleeding more.

“Hello, Frank.” I smiled at the sturdy delivery man holding two large white boxes in his arms. The freezing winter air kissed my kitchen-heated cheeks. Death day was usually the coldest day of the year, and this year was no exception.

“Hello, miss,” Frank said, his large mustache stretching in a welcoming smile.

“They are making you do deliveries even on the Death Day, Frank?” I asked, taking the boxes.

“This was such a high priority that I couldn’t say no.” He fixed his large, fur-laced hood and rubbed his gloved hands together. “After this though, I am going to spend some time with my family. My wife is making her famous goat stew and my sister is bringing my favorite baked apples. It’s going to be a great feast!” His face lit up with excitement.

“That sounds nice!” I smiled back. “I am just going to some party with Miss Priya today.”

“Well enjoy your holiday Miss Finn, and happy Death Day to you!” Frank replied, walking down the path back to his handcart, now empty of all deliveries.

“Happy Death Day to you too, Frank!” I returned, closing the door fast. Two boxes weighed down my arms, blocking my view as I carried them up the stairs, all the way to Priya's office.

The strong smell of the sweet citrus and spice filled my nose.

“Hiiii Beatrice,” I said, even though I couldn’t see most of the stunning redhead walking down the hall. She smiled, pausing, slowly putting in her golden hoops.

“You need some help with that?” she asked. I smirked; I could swear she made her voice purposely low just for me .

“I am good, thanks,” I replied, still making my way to the office. “How is the queen herself doing today?”

“Oh, you know, nothing much out of the ordinary. I’d say she is somewhere between eating a cake and murdering someone later.”

“Eating a cake first and only then murder someone? Wow! It must be a good day after all then.” I cackled. Beatrice giggled and followed me for a few steps.

“Must be the holidays, I guess.” She smirked. “You know,” She paused, looking further down the hall to the large double doors leading to Priya’s room. “If you ever need to talk, just come to me. I’ve known her for a while now and I know how obsessive she can get and how it’s hard to constantly navigate those moods and…anyway, if you ever need to vent just send for me, alright sweet cheeks?”

I nodded, letting the unspoken words settle in between us.

“Happy Death Day, Finn!” She smiled as she landed a kiss on my cheek and pulled her hair from underneath her shirt.

“Happy Death Day, Bea!” I saluted back, though it still felt wrong to say those words each time. Happy Death Day . Happy. Death. Except there was nothing happy about Death. Maybe for the dying? To finally be free. But for the living? There was no happiness in knowing that you were left behind to never see them again.

Priya’s office was empty. I strolled in and finally dropped the two large boxes on top of her desk.

“Do you ever notice how after you orgasm you get so damn thirsty?” Priya’s raspy voice sounded behind me. I turned to see her bare body in an open silk robe.

“Maybe?” My eyebrows rose unsure.

“Perhaps I will put a little drinking fountain by my bed. Like the ones little hamsters have. I could just sip away, staying hydrated while enjoying my orgy.” She leaned against the door taking a sip of her water in a wine cup.

“Who am I to be a naysayer? I just ask to see the face of that handy man installing a giant rodent drinking tube by your luxurious bed.” I smirked, stepping aside from her desk. Priya walked towards the table. One click. The tiny razor blade appeared from the top of her large ring. The sharp edge cut through the hand-sewn red ribbons, tightly covering the box.

She threw the lid on the floor, exposing the most gorgeous fabric I had ever seen. Laviticus didn’t lie when he said that these kinds of darks would suck the light from the room. She glanced over the small note he included, quickly chucking it, and pulled out her mesmerizing dress.

I leaned back on the desk, resting my hands on the edge.

“This is gorgeous, Priya!” I exclaimed.

Her full lips stretched in contentment. “Laviticus rarely disappoints, am I right?” Priya ran her fingers down the fabric. It was a suit; the most opulent suit, I realized. “I think he dreamed of designing dresses for the High Ladies of the Esnox but got burned and tortured instead. Really, such a shame. Just imagine what he could’ve done if he wasn’t such a little monster?”

I held back my rising quarrel.

“He is no monster, Priya. He is beyond talented, and I don’t think his looks have anything to do with that.” I wanted to say so much more but I stayed quiet.

“Whatever, Freckles. We leave come sundown, unless your dumbass boyfriend arrives sooner.” With that, she dragged on the detachable skirt to trail her suit and walked out of the office, leaving the door wide open.

I waited until she was gone to reach for my box. Anticipation boiled in me. I wanted to rip the box, to tear off those ribbons and finally see, but my anxious hands cut the ribbon with surgical precision.

Dark purple satin intertwined with black mesh, sparkling with glittery silver threads. The heavy fabric jerked my arms down as I pulled the dress out. The top was thick and corseted tight with silver embroidered ornaments and decorated with all kinds of tiny diamonds. The skirt was slick, fraying past my knees into a long tail.

A silver lined galaxy, indeed.

This dress was beyond gorgeous. A masterpiece. How did he create it? The materials and the craftsmanship of this was not even comparable to the most one-of-a-kind boutiques of Svitar.

This was art.

I was in complete awe, yet also filled with intimidation. I would do no justice for this dress. No, this masterpiece would be worthy of only a queen, or even a goddess, to wear, not a runaway slave.

I wasn’t sure how long I stared at the dress. Small rainbows danced on the ceiling from the astonishing sparkle of the diamonds. So many thoughts were piling, flooding in my head.

Finally, I lowered my dress, wrapping it over my forearm like a hanger as I lowered it back in the box, pausing just to move the large, white silk it was wrapped in. Suddenly, my heart stopped. My hands froze. I didn’t dare blink. Not when I saw it.

Underneath the thick layers of silk was a large, black, glass arrow and a dagger with the obsidian glass blade and a note.

I recognized the arrow immediately.

Ever since I saw it that day on the wall of the Silken Arrow, my dreams were occupied with launching it into the heart of the Destroyer General. At times, those dreams were so vivid that I woke up with my arms stretched in the air, as if holding a bow.

The never-ending dreams with the Destroyer General might have started as nightmares but now that I knew I had a way to kill him… no, they weren’t nightmares anymore. Each time we faced each other in my dreams, I was no longer filled with dread but determination, insatiable hunger, and one purpose: to kill him.

It was something I was too afraid to admit to myself; even in those dreams, I was filled with something I had thought I lost long ago. Hope.

Basalt Glass reflected the welcoming rays of sun beaming through the sheer curtains. I reached for it, though my hand stopped midair. I jerked my head to the open door behind me. Priya was so close in the hall. Too close .

I quickly shoved the dress back in the box and walked as casually as possible out of the office and down to my room, locking the door. Locks might not stop Priya, but it would give me time .

Rushing to my bed, I set aside the dress, pausing. I took a second look at the Basalt Glass in front of me. The note card was almost empty with just a few words scribbled in perfect handwriting.

“ Put them to good use, child. Darkness might wander, but light will always guide .”

My eyes ran through the lines a few times. A little shiver went through me, raising the hairs on my arm as I grabbed the large arrow. The glass was cold, and I could feel the humming of my blood against it, as if aware of it, feeling its power. The arrow was heavy, and Priya was right about it being almost impossible to properly shoot from a long distance. I would need a long, sturdy bow and to get as close as possible.

I put the arrow down gently, afraid to even breathe on it as if it would shatter. The dagger was much smaller than the arrow; the razor-sharp, black blade was long, thinning out until the end which was as thin as a needle.

Heart Piercer. The name rang loud in my mind. The silver handle was exquisitely made with flora-like carvings, and on top of it sat a large emerald, the size of a gold coin. Unlike the thick arrow, the dagger was light and easy to maneuver. I pierced the air with it; another move and another, as if I was wounding a real enemy, precise and short, quick bursts. Maybe I wasn’t the best shot, but when it came to knife fights, I was good.

Priya might have never wanted to admit it, but I was better at it than her.

I paused, listening for any steps. Heart Piercer shone brightly in my hand, demanding the warm blood of the Destroyer on its sharp edges. I could feel it, as if begging me to sink it through even my own flesh. Blood thirsty. I unwrapped the thin cloth covering my cut finger and gently wrapped it around the blade. The dried blood stain on the worn-out cloth rang an unspoken promise. “Soon, Heart Piercer, soon,” I said as I slid it under my pillows.

Priya’s loud voice rang through the hall.

“Freckles, I fucking give up. Come fix this corset.”

“Coming,” I sweetly shouted back .

I shoved the box with the arrow deep inside my closet, covering it with newly bought fur cloaks and other recent winter purchases. Not too far from it was also a well-hidden Death Day gift for Priya that I spent weeks searching for.

Even with a low dose of adrenaline running through my blood, I couldn’t resist but smile with a slight excitement. Priya yanked the handle. I rushed to the door slamming the closet door shut.

“Locked?” Priya’s confused voice rang through the wall. “What the fuck, Freckles?” Her perfectly trimmed eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion as I hastily opened it for her.

“Well, I couldn’t let you see your gift now, could I?” I smirked, thinking of the small leather sack hidden well in my closet.

Priya's suspicion was replaced with pleasantry and intrigue. “A gift for me? You got me intrigued, I’m not going to lie. When will I get it?”

“Tonight, after the ball.”

“Fine.” She dismissed the topic, though kept her smile. A good day indeed. “Well don’t expect one from me because I didn’t get you one.”

I was a-okay with it. I rarely got any gifts and frankly was quite used to it. Maybe a part of me even wanted not to receive any, to pretend that this day was no different than any other holiday. That it wasn’t my birthday.

Another year for me. Another waste.

No, I didn’t want any more reminders of that.

“This dress is much more than any gift I could possibly get! Look at these threads and rich fabric. Isn’t it breathtaking?”

Priya took a few steps to my bed, eyeing the deep, galaxy purple fabrics spread on the bedding.

Shit. Laviticus’s note. Shit .

I quieted the tiny fury of a panic, keeping my body still and casual. A normal breath, a simple blink. Priya picked the note up and casually threw it on the floor without reading it. She never cared about semantics and maybe that truly was her downfall.

“It is pretty, indeed. Not quite as practical as mine though. But I guess for Florian’s useless sidepiece, it will do for the night.” Though a clear jab, I chuckled. Priya might have used it as a reminder of her annoyance at Florian’s friendship with me, but I enjoyed that reminder.

We were friends. His lovely caricatures never stopped coming and I even dared to send a few back too. I didn’t have piles of multicolored crayons so my drawings were rather simple, basic, with just pencil stick figures, but I knew Florian would get a good chuckle out of them.

In fact, for once I was looking forward to our night of just having fun, where I would let myself be me just for a bit. Priya, Royals, or not.

“Are you going to just stand there or come help?” Priya rolled her eyes as she motioned to her half undone back.

“Sorry, I was just admiring that your dress actually has pants.” It was indeed a jumpsuit of sorts.

“Laviticus knows my feelings about never ending skirts.” Priya smirked.

I pulled on each string of the metal wires that her corset was constructed of. Each wire wrapped with the velvety fabric, knitted together as if they were nothing but woven threads. It was armor; I realized. A corset at first glance, but deep inside it was the stealthiest carved armor.

I already knew that those new slick, black leather boots she was wearing were full of weapons. I also knew that the large gold choker covering most of her neck with the fist-sized stone in the middle was hollow, filled with powdered smoke to choke out and paralyze any threat. Each hair pin in her well-braided bun also contained deadly darts. And those long, golden earrings were filled with deadly poison, giving the silver stones a black hue. A few strands of her curls were left dangling loose, calculatingly placed there for pretend ease and carelessness. A predator’s trick to lure the na?ve prey, unaware of the danger hiding behind the veil of smiles and bouncy, chestnut curls.

A deathly queen indeed.