Chapter Three ▏The Hunt

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, slamming her against the tree trunk.

How dare she? How dare this low class woman take this away from me?

"Miss Elora!" Governor Celso yells and tries to pry me away, but I hold onto Queen Zuri as tightly as I can, making sure she won't get away even though she's struggling against my grip. "Miss Elora, she's pregnant!"

"Elora, please!" she begs. "Don't hurt me. . . ."

Oh, I want to hurt her. And I'm so close to doing it.

"You did this on purpose," I hiss. "You want to erase me from the picture."

As soon as I said that, all my resentment resurfaced. I remember Father getting married to her, how she went out of her way to make me feel that I'm the odd one out now. Father stopped spending time with me. When we do see each other, he always has this disappointed look on his face, like I have done something wrong. Like my very presence is wrong.

And it's all her fault.

I glare at her, gaining dark satisfaction from the fear in her eyes. My hands clench on her arms. A sudden thought crosses my head, a thought that doesn't seem like my own.

What if I slam her head hard enough? The thought begins to creep in my head. I pull her towards me, overcome with hatred and anger—

"Elora!"

Father's booming voice breaks through my reverie. I spin around, releasing Queen Zuri in the process. She falls to her knees and sobs, while Governor Celso assists her to her feet. All my anger gets replaced with fear when I see Father thundering towards me, but I decide to stand my ground for the first time.

"You didn't tell me," I say in a shaky voice. "You didn't tell me you weren't going to give me the crown!" 

His jaw clenches. "Do not make a scene. You have done enough."

Behind him, in the distance, a handful of people are gathering to see what's happening. I spot Uncle Osman among the crowd. He's rushing towards us, to break up the fight like he always does. Usually his presence calms me, but not now. 

"I won't back off until you tell me the truth," I demand. "Why am I not getting the crown?"

"That is not the case," Father mutters, casting a glance at the growing crowd. "I'm warning you, do not—"

"Coward," I say through gritted teeth. "You're a coward."

With that I walk away. Or at least I begin to. Father pulls me by the arm, drags me in front of him, and slaps me hard across the face — all in one swift motion.

The flat of his palm lands on my cheek with a loud smack, causing me to topple sideways and fall on the ground. I almost fall head first into one of the protruding tree roots, but Uncle Osman catches me in time.

"Brother!" he says in shock, putting a protective arm around me. "Do not do that again—"

"You're a disgrace," Father spits out at me. "An embarrassment!"

My face is hot with shame and pain. Tears are brimming my eyes. My throat is tight, and his words are still ringing in my ears. There's a collective gasp in the crowd, followed by murmurs that make my insides wither.

I can't believe this happened. I can't believe he did this to me.

But unfortunately, he's not done yet.

"Call this off," Father snaps at Uncle Osman. "Send everybody home. I'm done with this." He turns to me. "And you're coming with me."

With that, he yanks me to my feet, grabbing my arm so hard that I’m sure he’s leaving bruises. Then, he starts to drag me towards the palace, my knees and feet colliding against every bump along the way.

"Father!" I sob, grabbing his hand to get him to let go, even if it means plopping me right in the middle of a shocked crowd. "Father, please—"

"Silence!" he shouts, pulling me through the door and leading me up the stairs. "Don't make me hurt you more!"

"Brother!" Uncle Osman trails behind us. "Odion, stop that!"

Father doesn't listen. He's in a fit of rage that I'm too familiar with, the kind of anger that knows no bounds. I've been the target of this many times before. I should be used to it, but I know that this time is different. 

And I'm right. He drags me inside my room despite my struggles, slams the door behind him, and throws me on the floor.

"Stop," I breathe out, my breath hitching in my throat. "Please, father—"

Slap. He hit me again, and this time my mouth got filled with the coppery taste of blood.

I can’t believe this. My very own father, hurting me without any remorse, making me bleed. I, who have done nothing to serve him. I, who wanted nothing but his approval, in the hopes that maybe he would stop associating his hatred for my dead mother.

“You disgraced me.” His nostrils flare as he begins to pace my bedroom. When he passes by my vanity, he sweeps all my possessions to the floor. The loud crash of glass and wood punctures my sobs. “What I expected of you was simple: get married and know your place.” 

“I know my place and that is on the throne,” I insist. “It’s my birthright, it’s what I was born to be—”

“You think your little stunt tonight makes you fit to be a princess?” He sneers. “You really are delusional, Elora.”

I wipe my face furiously and face him. “You know I deserve it.”

Father’s sneer grows wider, colder. The lack of emotion in his eyes confirms the thing I’ve been dreading all my life: he never truly cared about me. 

“You want to prove yourself?” he asks, his tone flat and detached. “Fine by me. I’ll send you off to The Hunt.”

“No,” I protest. My whole body begins to shake. “No, you can’t make me join The Hunt.”

Father crosses the room and grabs me by the chin. “I can do whatever I want, and what I want is for you to go to the treacherous forests of Bellari to hunt the biggest beast and bring its pelt back here. Only then will I consider you a candidate for the throne. Only then will I consider you my daughter.”

He turns around and leaves, slamming the door behind him and leaving me in the ruins of my bedroom, about to face a mission that will surely end in death.