Gullibility? Weakness?
I didn’t want to hurt anyone like Sameen, or even Reese. They were good, their souls pure. Like my people in Eira.
A pang of sadness threatened to distract me, but I tucked it away. The good and the pure could not help me, not from the king and his captains. A shiver traveled down my spine. I’d only ever used the magic to save my own skin. It was better when manipulating those with foul intentions, like the man in the bar. His soul was black as night. A murderer? I didn’t know, but his kind I was used to dealing with. His kind surrounded my uncle and led our army.
His kind quailed easily to the fear of a Demon Daughter.
The card game ended.
I homed in on the sinister man. Take your winnings and leave.
His hands froze upon the money on the table, his eyes narrowed. He spoke to the bearded sailor, who only shook his head and started to deal again.
I lied. He will try to kill you. Take your winnings and leave.
The bearded one froze mid-deal; his eyes flashed to mine. Had I connected with the wrong man? But before I could flee, the young man stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the wood floor. He finished collecting his coins and shoved them deep into his pockets despite the other one’s objections. He fled.
The man at the table set down his cards and folded his arms across his chest at the same time that the front door to the tavern squealed open. I backed away, oddly revealing myself to the seaman.
He skidded to a halt. His brown eyes rolled over my face and dress as he pulled his fingers through his hair. He was closer to my own age.
“Well, hello, miss,” he said, his previous anxiety forgotten. That glint returned, but a handsome smile added something to that cunning face. “Can I help you? Are you lost?”
“I—” I fumbled my words when an unfamiliar emotion wafted from him like bad cologne.
My fingers relaxed from the grip of my knife still concealed within my pocket. I headed toward the alley, but before I could slip into the shadows, I employed a technique I had seen my maids use on the stable boys back at home to lure them into darkened corners. I peered over my shoulder, meeting his eyes, and blinked.
What was I doing?
Flirting? Being coy?
I fled—my steps controlled even though my legs shook. Shock almost floored me when a voice followed.
“Wait!” he called. Hurried footsteps tailed. “Where are you going?” He touched my shoulder.
I suppressed a shudder. Grabbing his hand, I spun, twisting his arm behind his back. He called out, but my knife was under his throat before more than a squeak could release.
I hushed him, bringing my lips to his ear. “Move and you die.”
“What do you want, darling?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“I am far from your darling.”
“One can hope, can’t they? If not my undying love, what is it you want?”
I twisted his wrist higher. He grunted, then laughed through his discomfort. “She likes it rough.”
“All I want,” I said, “is your clothes.”
He laughed again, his voice hoarse. “Lady, you could have had my clothes. You didn’t even have to ask.”
My brows furrowed at some understanding I knew I was missing. I shoved him away, hard. He faced me. With a wink, he kicked off one boot.
“And I want your wallet,” I added.
His face dropped.
Minutes later I plowed through the forest in greater ease than before. Although his boots were slightly larger and his shirt reeked of stale body odor, the pants and cream-colored top comforted me much more than the dress Sameen had brought.
Pala would be disappointed.
I used to hate frocks and evening gowns, and all the layers that came with them. They were ridiculous and confining. It wasn’t until my lady’s maid and her teachings that I understood the benefits of such frivolous costumes.
No one expects sharpened steel and death beneath delicate folds of silk and lace.
But Pala wasn’t here, and something told me deep within that I didn’t want her to be, either. She was a traitor. Not to the crown like I was—but to me, her deceit running deeper than I had even imagined.
I pressed forward, quickening my pace toward the harbor located south-southwest of Riaan’s castle, according to Reese’s directions and my own learned knowledge.
Freights came in and out of Eira’s docks as often as Anolyn’s, but to sail in our northern seas meant death to an unexperienced sailor. Frigid temperatures and torrential waters killed many of our people in their storms each year. Even if I could survive the journey, there was no way I could escape that direction without being detected. I had committed treason by running away, and King Johan taught that no one was above his throne, not even his niece. I would not risk being recognized by my uncle’s men.
Something I thought to be safe from in a foreign kingdom. My battle gear matched that of my fellow warriors, and during combat, I was as fierce as anyone. How had the prince gotten such a canny depiction of me in battle? Although they were only rumors, most that fought against me did die beneath my blade, but not because they had seen my face.
My father, Prince Toma, brother of King Johan of Eira was sacrificed to, and slain in the Demonic Wars—a five-year campaign against the continent by the Wraith Queen herself. It was in this epic conflict that the two countries of Eira and Anolyn buried their differences and fought against an evil menace and her army of lost souls.
Prince Toma and a handful of my uncle’s best assassins resolved upon a counter attack. The Wraith Queen never condescended to enter enemy land until the battle was won, and so they would bring the battle to her.
A month after my birth, the enemy suddenly pulled back most of her forces. My father had triumphed, but only one assassin survived the raid to return: Lucan.
The Wraith Queen was dead. When we finally rid our forests from the remainder of her abandoned followers, our people were able to celebrate their freedom from her tyranny and reveled in their saved military. All the while, my uncle stewed over his lost brother and a longing for battle grew within him. He thought Anolyn would be weaker after years of fighting, and when I was ten, he launched his campaign against them…
Two more years of blood loss proved it was our country that was weakened. Soon our forces withdrew, but not after severe loss on both sides. The king of Anolyn had been killed in the last battle, but no one knew under whose blade he had fallen. Since then, relationships between our lands had been tense.
Business was still done within the black markets, mostly ignored by my uncle’s military captains. Much of Eira’s wealth came from illegal trafficking, and only a handful of skirmishes ever broke out at the border anymore.
A sound halted me in place, the snap of a twig. I drew my knife, my breath frozen in my lungs. I turned a careful circle, waiting for something to leap from any of the trunks large enough to hide an attacker—but nothing stirred.
Of course, there was more to fear than being attacked by a man within this kingdom.
Forest Hollow. I didn’t know much about these woods, but considering the name alone, I guessed it was just as cursed as Varian. The woodland was still but far from asleep. A chill crept across the back of my neck. Clouds dampened the moon and the canopy of trees that pressed against my paranoid thoughts.
My uncle had taught me about the kingdom of Anolyn since I was a child. Known for its warmer climate and its lush landscapes, the kingdom was rich in bounteous harvests. Its main trading products were its crops, animal hides, and coffee beans… as well as trinkets taken from captured souls and sprites as a method of payment for their deliverance. Shrunken heads, potions and poisons, and evil charms were also a hot commodity among the few magicians that still roamed the land.