⇼ E L O R A ⇼
I want to scream, but no sound escapes me. It’s as though my voice completely vanished, and now I’m left here staring at my dead uncle as he grabs my arm and forces me to walk with him.
And the weird thing is, I can actually feel his hand clasping my ruined wrist. It’s almost as though he’s more solid than anything in here, more solid than me. It’s like I’m a dream but he’s in a higher form of reality that conquers mine. This notion only gets stronger when I try to struggle but he just doesn’t budge. He’s solid. He’s stronger than me.
“Why do you want to leave so bad?” he asks me, his voice as gentle and as good-natured as I remember. He points at the chapel with his other hand, and as if on cue, the lights from inside glow brighter. I can actually see silhouettes of people from the windows, and they’re not moving. They’re all just standing there, completely still.
⇼ E L O R A ⇼A scream builds up in my throat and escapes my mouth, ringing inside the chapel and out into the forest.With my entire body shaking, I scramble out of the dark building, my skin still covered in goosebumps. I slip and slide against the marble floor and almost fall more than three times, but I don’t care. All I want is to put as much space between me and the monstrosity that is my uncle’s dead body, which was missing just hours ago.How did it get there? What is it doing there? Why did it look at me? Why am I here? How did I get here?These questions all swirl in my head like a deadly mix, making me whimper all the way back around the lakeside. Small stones are digging into my soles and I’m just slipping everywhere, but I keep going like a wild prey getting away from its predator. No matter how many times I blink, I can’t get rid of the picture in my head, the picture of Uncle Osman’s glassy eyes staring at me.My feet keep sinking in
⇼ E L O R A ⇼ Days passed. Then weeks. Before I knew it, a whole month had passed, and when I woke up earlier with this realization, I just felt like a gigantic weight had been lifted off my chest. Life goes on, I realize. No matter how bad the situations were, my life still went on. And so did the lives of the others. The past month proved that. I open my eyes and look at the ceiling of the guest room, which we have designated among ourselves due to the renovation and the reconstruction that we’re doing for the palace. Some of the people from other city-states are going in and out of the Capital to help, also to take part in the planning process of our biggest project ever: tearing down the walls from the palace and the Capital. From outside the window of the room I share with Alistair, I can already see the shrine of the heroes in the courtyard. It’s a ten feet tall marble obelisk with all the names of the fallen. I didn’t include
"I only have one question for you," the man in front of me says, pacing the floor more slowly. "Why are you in my forest?" The sound of his boots scraping the rough wooden floor grates my ears, but I force myself to look him straight in the eye and say, "It's not your forest. It's not your land." He laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that doesn't quite match his long and lean frame. "But it is. You just have no idea, princess." Princess. His words, as well as the mocking tone that he carried with his voice, hit me like a punch in the gut. For a second I wonder if he knows who I am, what I am. The thought of it frightens me. I try to get up from my chair, but the ropes around my body hold me in place, bound by my wrists and ankles. The knots are digging into my skin
Tomorrow, I'm turning twenty-one. The next day, I'm going to be crowned the Princess of Acantha. But today, I'm going to meet my future husband. And I can hardly wait. "Tighter," I tell Madame Mara, who's pulling the laces on the back of my dress. "I want my waist to be more cinched in, please." She gives me a confused look through the reflection of the ornate mirror. "Are you certain, Miss Elora?" I nod. "Yes." Madame Mara hesitates for a second, but she knows her role as my handmaiden, so she just pulls the laces as hard as she can. My breath gets hitched at my throat as the bodice of my blue dress constricts around my waist. I can hardly breathe, but I know that this is necessary — showing off my figure, letting all t
For a second, I can’t speak. There’s a big lump in my throat that’s preventing me from even breathing properly. I look at Father, trying hard to keep my face neutral, still very much aware of the big hand on the side of my breast. I’m getting more and more disgusted by the Governor by the second, to the point where I can feel my stomach heaving. Still, I can’t leave. I can’t go until I make sure that I heard it right. “A wedding,” I prompt, and Father immediately catches where I’m going. And he doesn’t look happy about my brewing reluctance. “Yes, Elora. You will marry our esteemed Governor tomorrow on your birthday.” His words land on me like a punch in the gut. Anger, betrayal, and repulsion are brewing at the pit of my core, bubbling and hissing, threa
The words hit me like a ton of bricks. Outrage bubbles inside me like bile, going higher and higher up my throat. Being crowned is the only thing I ever wanted. I can't let an unborn child take something I spent all my life training for. The next thing I know, I'm already marching towards the direction of Queen Zuri and Governor Celso's voices. I know they're not far away, and it doesn't take me long to find them, as they're just huddled behind a big oak tree. "Elora," Queen Zuri immediately says. "How long have you been here?" I don't answer. I can't. My vision tunnels as soon as I see them standing together. White hot anger whooshes inside me. The last thing I register is their shocked faces before I grab Queen Zuri by the upper arms and shake her vigorously,
The Hunt is for Nobles who want to have a place of power, also for Exiles who wish to be reintegrated into the Kingdom. The forests of Bellari are known to house the most dangerous creatures, which is why it's usually not a popular choice for The Hunt. No one has come back from there. No one. Ever. Some of my professors when I was young said that Bellari's forests still carry the trace of the Supernaturals, the powerful creatures who used to rule Acantha along with humans. The Shadow Wolves are the leaders of the Supernatural, and they're all males. They mated with the female humans who are blessed by the moon goddess, called the Daughters of the Moon. The Alpha of the wolves and the chosen Luna rule the Kingdom. But of course, that system was broken. The Supernaturals abused their power. The humans staged
The inside of the carriage is wide, but I find myself getting suffocated by its velvet-lined walls. Not to mention Uncle Osman’s huge frame is taking up more than half of the seat, pushing me against the window with my bag of supplies on my lap. I face the window the entire time the carriage moves. For a long while, there’s nothing but the extension of the walls that surround the palace. I’ve never seen them before in person, but they’re even more majestic than the pictures. All brown bricks, stacked tall and thick to form a path that leads out of the premises. Uniformed guards are patrolling every corner, carrying swords. Seeing them gives me a flashback of Hendrik and his words, but I quickly shake it off. “Stop,” I mumble to myself, lightly slapping my cheek.