Page 5 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
As he came around the desk, I bowed, butterflies of apprehension dancing in my belly.
He took a seat on the sofa, underneath the monsters, and I joined him, angling my body so that I had a view of his face. As it often did, a longing arose for him to be proud of me, to place a gentle hand on my shoulder or embrace me with the same pride he reserved for his commanders.
Keeping my hands still, I resisted the urge to tap my foot against the floor and ask about the Boundary. But my father loathed fidgeting, and the last time I’d spoken first, a slap across my mouth was a reminder to show deference to my elders.
Dark eyes assessed me. “You look more like your mother each day.” He sighed, a note of sadness haunting his tone.
“Thank you,” I said, even though I had no control over what I looked like.
Questions about my mother rose, but I held them under my tongue, lest I turn my father’s wrath on me. She’d died long ago, when I was only six or seven. Father claimed dark forces killed her, and my memory contained glimmers of her presence, moments of pure fear followed by intense love. I’d always known my father cared about me, but I knew with unwavering certainty that my mother had loved me fiercely. The servants were forbidden to talk about her, but I’d overheard whispers that she was going mad, that she saw things that were not real. Even quieter whispers speculated on whether she had magic. I knew better than to ask my father whether any of those rumors were true.
“I have held back from offering your hand in marriage for selfish reasons, aware I am the only one who can keep my daughter truly safe in this world. However, it is time for you to do your duty as a princess, to work for your kingdom.”
The news I’d been dreading finally arrived. “Father, I am happy to do my duty, but isn’t there something I might do here with you?”
Father patted my hand, a surprising affection from him.
A shock jolted through me.
He stared at my hand, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. I followed his gaze and, to my horror, noticed my fingertips were lighter than before, almost luminescent.
I placed my other hand over them, hiding the unnatural hue.
“It is reasonable to be nervous about leaving home, which is why I have secured an alliance between us and Elquin, the kingdom to the south. Prince Orim has come of age, and in a few weeks, he will arrive here. At that time, we will announce your betrothal and the political alliance. I assure you, the southern lands of Elquin are far safer than our own, and even though they have been struck by famine, the marriage will secure a trade alliance. Food in exchange for armies to guard the Boundary. You will be far from the Boundary, far from the monsters, and far from the menace that stalks our land.”
Tears of disappointment crept to the corners of my eyes but I bowed my head to hide them. “Father, I wish to help. I want to understand the Boundary and help you stop these monsters. Is marriage the only way?”
At those words, he stood, long strides taking him to the window. When he spoke, his voice was hard and clipped. “Esmira, you are but a young woman, not bred for battle, nor should you be. I intentionally kept you here, protected in the palace where you have led a life of peace and pleasure. That is my gift to you. Protection.No daughter of mine will go near the Boundary nor learn about monsters. You know nothing about the horrors of magic or its dangers. We are in this plight because of Mirror Magic, a vile, evil magic. In fact, all those who possess an inkling of Mirror Magic are put to death by blade, lest they use their power to summon more unnatural monsters. That is why the academy was formed, to provide oversight over magic lest it ruin us again. I have worked hard to rebuild this kingdom, to use the Venators to hunt down those with magic, so that we might know when danger strikes again. Peace is constantly under threat, and I would not have my daughter march in a battle of blood and magic. Do your duty, marry the prince to the south, become his queen, keep the peace, and ensure we have armies to fight. One day, this land will be ruled by peace, and I will not stop until I see such a day.”
His words felt like the hard edge of a sword against my soft skin. What did I know about war, monsters, and bloodshed?
A pale light glowed in my lap.
I lifted my hand, perturbed to see my fingers had a slight golden halo to them. Quickly, I buried them in my skirts, heart pounding. I needed to get out. I needed to leave.
“As you wish, Father. Is there anything else?”
He turned around, the mask of a shrewd king hardening his expression. “I’m aware you made your way to the Night Market. Such reveries are for the common people, not for you. I trust you will hold yourself to a higher standard in the future. If you wish to be givenmore responsibility, you must show you are worthy of it.”
I felt lightheaded with frustration. There was nothing my father did not see, nothing he did not know. “Understood, father.”
“You will have new clothes made, and study the histories of the southern lands, that you might be useful there. You have three weeks. Do your best to delight the future king. If he is pleased with you, your life there will be easier.”
Marriage. The idea of it hadn’t sunk in yet. I opened my mouth to respond when a light tapping came at the door.
My father held up his hand, indicating for me to stay seated. “Come!” he barked.
The door swung open, revealing a man no taller than my father, but with thick, corded muscles, a flat nose, deep-set eyes so dark they were almost black, and a pinkish scar across one cheek. The Captain of the Venators.
He was a ruthless man, quick with a knife. I’d always feared him because of the stories of what he and his men had done. Rumor held that the scar on his face was given to him by a woman accused of Mirror Magic. Apparently she’d fought like a wild beast, but the men boasted about how she’d paid for her actions with blood and broken bones.
Now as the Captain’s black eyes roved over me, I wondered if he could see my hands glowing through the thin material of my dress. A lump swelled in my throat, and I refocused my gaze on his black boots which wereclean and shiny, as though he hadn’t just returned from a trip to the Boundary.
“The prisoner is ready,” he announced.
“Very good. Have the bells rung, we will join you shortly.”
The bells? My gaze went to my father and then to the Captain of the Venators. He was still looking at me. I frowned, skin crawling with the way he stared at me. As I’d fully developed into a young woman, I began to notice the different kinds of stares men gave me. Some were lustful, others full of longing or jealousy. The way the Captain of the Venators stared at me was full of something else, dark and violent. Hate.
