Page 18 of Of Nightmares & Fire (Elusive Umbra #1)

If my father wishes me to marry; become a trophy queen for a new king he chooses?

Fine. He can think that is what is happening, but he has another thing coming.

What he did here today has undoubtedly had the opposite effect on me.

Coupled with what I witnessed in the city?

I will be his usurper. I will play coy for the show he wishes me to put on for suitors, and while he searches for the new king, I will plan for the new queen .

If I can't leave this place, I will make it my own.

My father is going all out tonight for dinner with the suitors.

When I went missing, the moment the rain stopped, he called for all of them to come at once.

He said that my return and the courting would make for a grand event worthy of celebrating.

Of course he is making the first formal dinner be held in the great hall.

It’s one of the most ostentatious rooms in all of the castle.

Even the breezeway leading there reeked of wealth and power.

Two of his favorite things. Its two-story arches reach for the star-studded sky like the knuckles of a giant on a raised fist.

“Don’t look so sad, Princess. You are about to meet your future husband after all.

The highest point in a woman’s life.” Pravin says contemptuously.

I ignore him just as I always have, but he continues pushing.

“It's too bad that your mother couldn’t give your father a son… all of this could have been avoided.” I pause, looking sidelong at him with disdain coating my tongue.

“Yes, Pravin, it is such a shame that my mother’s life was ripped away from her before my father was able to pump her full of his vile seed to create a male spawn he could mold into something more sinister than himself.

” His brows hitch as he balks. “Pick up your jaw, Pravin. You act like you have never heard a woman use her voice before.”

I can feel his eyes on me as we walk, but he says no more as I walk ahead of him.

I don’t like coming to this wing of the castle.

This side holds all of the most opulent rooms, one of which I try to avoid altogether—the throne room.

Not to mention that I try to keep as much distance as possible between myself and my father.

It's been that way my whole life. At first it was his doing. He didn’t care to see me, as I have heard most fathers do for their children.

He would check in with my caretakers and send Pravin to make sure that I was studying and learning to be a lady fit to be queen.

Other than that, it was dinners a couple nights a week and punishments when I needed them.

Lessons increased as I got older and my mind started developing thoughts of its own.

Colette and her mother have a lot to do with that.

That’s also when the worst of the nightmares started.

Cole’s mother gifted me the necklace—an heirloom from my mother.

She said my mother told her a long time ago she would know when the right time was to gift it to me.

I almost never take it off. I swear, even though my father hates magick, I feel as though the pendant is imbued with it.

When I do take it off, the nightmares seem to be so much worse. Or maybe it's all in my head…

Absent-mindedly my fingers roll over the intricate carvings on the pendant before I take a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh.

Coming to a stop at the closed doors, I take in the massive entry more than I have before.

Something about today feels like the end of life as I know it.

Maybe it's a good thing that I feel as though I'm dying.

If I felt otherwise, what would it say about me?

So, like the dying woman I am, I pay attention to the more beautiful things this life has given me, if only for a moment.

These doors are some of the last pieces of artwork left from the previous ruler.

The carvings in the deep red wood are like a story.

Each one melding into the next like the pages of a book.

I wish I knew if they had meaning or if the royals before my father just had the taste for beautiful things.

Right at eye level, there are two ravens, one black and one white.

They embrace like doves. Lovers. This thought, something that I will never have, causes emotion to build in the back of my throat.

I never wished for love, but now that the chance is being taken from me, it seems like I am grieving someone I needed more than the air I breathe.

The Neer believe that our souls are like the wick of a candle.

Just like a candle needs fire to burn, our life never truly starts until we have met our match.

Only then do both souls ignite and the twin flames burn.

I’m looking down at my feet, still deep in thought, when Pravin opens the doors.

“Astraea Casimir, Princess of Eathian.” The court master announces loudly, making me jump out of my own head.

Lifting my chin, my eyes trail into the room of snakes, each one of them as beautiful as they are deadly.

Pravin offers me his hand, and I look down at it, then lift my gaze to meet his before walking past him in open disrespect.

The low growl from him is not missed by me; though it was low enough no one else heard, the sound of it brings me a moment of triumph, and my lip curls at the corner in response.

Striding into the room on sure feet, I greet my father, and he embraces me like the prized child I know I never was.

Someone who he cares for very deeply, but I smell the stench of lies with every touch and kind word he says.

He seats me at the center of the table, and the men there take their seats all around.

Though the seating for us is smaller, the room is filled with bodies, and all their eyes rest on me.

The table is filled with an abundance of colors and decadent exotic foods.

More than enough to feed all of the poor families I saw living in squalor. It makes my stomach recoil .

“Well, they weren't lying when they spoke of her beauty.” I hear one of the suitors say. My eyes clash with liquid gold. Beautiful and dangerous, and the corner of his lips quirk up as though he could read the thought as though it were displayed on my face.

“Ruaan, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” Benat, one of the only familiar faces I see, says under his breath, but the wicked glint in his eye tells me it was more out of jealousy than anything else. Taking a deep breath, I roll my eyes, blocking out all of the hushed conversations around me.

Still standing, I pick up the delicate wine glass my father is allowing for the celebration. I reluctantly lift it to make the entry toast that is mandatory, but the doors open once again.

“Mavros and Kyros Kazhal appointed Heirs of Diemos.” My wine glass slips from my hand. Shattering and spilling wine all over the table in front of me as my eyes clash with the deep umbra of Kyros’ stare.