Unable to help it any longer, I threw, following the directions she had given me. I watched the thing sail over the board and far into the brush.
“And since you have Fae speed, that’s where the balance comes in, too,” she said wryly.
I winced when I heard it hit the side of the far-off wall. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Try again, but this time, really try to keep your strength in mind,” she instructed. I weighed the handle in my hand, gripping it tightly. “Loosen your hold. You’re going to want to barely be grasping when you throw it, let the momentum of your movement take it.”
Nerves made my hand moist as I palmed it once more. I mimicked Gracelyn’s position, wondering how I was supposed to think about my strength. This time, the weapon whirled twice before falling to the ground… many feet away from the target.
“This is going to take a lot of tries.” Gracelyn placed her fisted hands on her waist.
Many attempts later, I got it to graze the board. Despite my lack of success, I enjoyed myself. Gracelyn had a dry wit that amused me. The ease of conversation we fell into reminded me of the girls—my fellow ex-hostages. I rubbed the indents on my wrists, the clear reminder of what I’d gone through alongside them.
As much as I missed them, I was thankful for the friendship Cora and I had struck. She was a godsend. A worrying mother hen for sure, but awesome nonetheless.
I was unsure of how much time had passed when Gracelyn tilted her head. “We have to go. Guard rotations will be changing soon.”
“See you tomorrow, same time,” I chirped, feeling breathless as I once again fetched the daggers I threw too far.
I thought it fair I be the runner considering she was taking the time to train me. The first rounds when she’d fetched them, it felt wrong, and as soon as I realized it was because of the label thrust on me, I set her straight real quick.
“Yes, my Queen.” The words were sarcastic, but I pushed my shoulder into hers. It should have made her lose her balance, considering how petite she was, but she remained unfazed. Disgruntled, I stuck my tongue out at her.
“I wish I knew what the hell that even meant,” I said, referencing the Queen title. She titled her head. “Ty hasn’t informed me on what makes my ‘role’ is.” I threw up air quotes around the word. I gazed at her, hoping she would read between the lines and tell me what I wanted to know. I turned away after the silence stretched between us.
“A ruler’s main job is to protect their people.” I snapped to attention when Gracelyn began talking. “And to keep order.”
I waited for her to continue but she fell silent. When she didn’t speak up, I asked, “So this supposed unlimited power is for me to keep order?”
“Yes.”
“And there’s only one person that can have this power?” It was harder to get Gracelyn to talk than even Rian and that was saying something. At her curt nod, I frowned. Roark’s grandfather was the King. “Luz said the King tricked everyone into thinking he was the one with the essence. How did he manage to do that?”
“He had strong persuasion abilities.” The word rang a bell. “He also ruled with an iron fist and many were too scared to go against him and his display of power. He already had Luz’s grandfather dealt with, along with the rest of her family, leaving Fae no choice but to accept his rule. He used fear and cruelty to control. Unbeknownst to him, the King before him, Luz’s grandfather, had already named Luz his Heir. So, when he was murdered, the essence went straight to her.” She paused and looked up at the dark sky. “The king had been training his grandson as his successor, to be as heartless as he was. Thankfully, Luz arrived to stop his leadership. And that was that. Centuries later, she bound magic after her mate was murdered.” With an offhand shrug, she turned and twirled the dagger again. “I was not here to see the theatrics play out. I was born outside of this boundary right before magic was gone, but stories like this are passed on like a pandemic.”
My mind raced with the information. Gracelyn looked behind her and mouthed that she had to go before disappearing through the same door we’d come through. I crept after her, memorizing the way for tomorrow.
As I wound my way through the hallway, the irony in the situation struck me. Luz’s family had been killed and run off the same as Roark’s. And Roark had been so young. He’d also been the grandson the evil King tried to make like himself. I wonder how he’d attempted to twist Roark. Considering his singlemindedness, I doubted it was pretty. It would make sense if his perspective of what happened was overshadowed by what he was told. Roark’s comment about becoming the rightful King went with the story. If only he had known his family was the one that was wrong.
It was all one fucked up circle. Despite myself, sympathy for Roark made its way to my chest. He’d been so young, and in his young eyes, his family had been torn from him, then he’d been left in the care of abusive Fae who were supposed to keep him safe. I truly understood what he must have felt and how that drove him to do the things he’d done. It wasn’t an excuse, but I got it.
Rubbing my forehead, I pushed open my door. My duty as Queen wasn’t clear. What exactly did keeping order even mean? But staying here was not an option, and it conflicted with everything I strove for. I wanted to go home. Being Fae was not something I ever wanted
