Page 24 of A Broken Promise

The large river was tranquil, calm, reflecting a bright full moon and shimmering stars above. Viyak’s tall figure treaded ahead of me through the silver bluegrass while tiny campfires flickered on the horizon.

I knew it was a dream, but I still had hoped that he would turn around just once. For me to see his face once more.

Stupid delusions.

As if a ghost, my dreams haunted me my entire life. A shadow twin that followed me each step. Tuluma asked me about them regularly. She always had an explanation for them too. A scary monster: just my imagination adding some details to a dark cloud I saw earlier. A red-eyed devil: a mix of poppies I collected that day and that grumpy farmer's lady that yelled at me. She could always connect the dots between reality and the vivid dreams. It was our game; who could make a more reasonable connection? Like the one I had today was clearly because I missed Viyak, fires because of the Destroyer, and night because I stared at the moon too much last night.

A peaceful image of Viyak and I in a beautiful place together: a desperate shot of my subconsciousness for any kind of sense of hope.

Maybe a part of me really needed it. To see us free, to feel free, to be at peace.

Life was too chaotic for me to linger on my dreams, but a part of me was grateful for this little glimpse of another world. Maybe in a different universe, Finn and Viyak were happy.

But in this?

Not him.

And not me.

12

Heavy 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…whenmy Ollieand I wouldtalk 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.

The manor was welcomingin 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 ofcolors 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 ofwhy.

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?

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