Page 34 of Ruby & Onyx

Yet nothing happens.

I need more, need to feel more. I harness the pain of losing my parents. To this day, and despite all of the lies and promises kept from me, I still feel it. The world is a dark place, lacking in love and beauty and wonder, without them. My only family. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them or picture their faces, though the image of my father gets fuzzier with every passing day.

When my chest becomes an aching pit, I wave my hand over the candle. In an instant, the flame springs to life, but I don’t feel the sense of triumph that I felt after moving the tangerine. I only feel pain.

“Drawing on the land’s natural elements requires a trade. Your pain in exchange for the flame. The bigger the fire, the greater the cost.” His eyes close, and the flickering behind his eyelids suggests that he might be reliving a memory. A moment goes by like this until he finally sighs and returns to our lesson. “Now you must dampen that emotion to extinguish the flame.”

“How?” Once that well tips, it fills the rest of me like a flood. My soul feels weighed down with pain. “How do you turn it off?”

“The answer to that question goes far beyond our magic lessons. It requires mental agility. Some hold pockets of humor in the crevices of their mind, others rely on meditation.” His eyes grow weary and worn as he concentrates on something unseen. “You must release it.”

“How do you do it?” I ask pointedly.

“Chocolate,” he winks. I search the room for any chocolate but find nothing of the sort.

Without it, I strain to recall a happy memory, but every memory seems tainted. Memories of my parents coincide with grief. Memories of my former life stir up a sense of loss. Even thinking of Moose reminds me that he is my only friend, and a pang of loneliness tugs.

Hours go by as I take deep breaths. I envision success. I try my hardest to recall a time that existed without sadness or pain, but the flame continues its dance undisturbed. My anxiety builds to a crescendo as I accept that untainted happiness may not exist within my memories.

Only an inch of wax remains.

With a huff of frustration, I blow out the candle, no magic required. “I’m done for the day. Thank you, Sir Magis.”

* * *

My room is nearly unrecognizable when I return. A display of jewels covers every inch of the vanity. It’s so rich that it would make even the Goddess of Beauty blush. Diamond tiaras, emerald necklaces, and golden earrings shine in the sunlight, reflecting colorful prisms of light onto the ceiling. Several gowns hang from the bed’s canopy, each one more beautiful than the last. My old boots lay in the corner, looking more pathetic than ever next to the sandals spread across the bedroom floor. The twins must have done this while I was in my lesson.

In my old life, I might have delighted in trying on every combination imaginable, but at this moment, the defeat of my lesson is weighing me down. What is the point of making your outward appearance look nice when the inside feels so rotten?

As if sensing my imbalance, Moose paws at my leg. I hoist him into my arms, gratefully accepting the licks on my cheek. My friend. My best friend. I run my fingers over his soft fur in sweeping motions, and I swear that he’s smiling at me, reassuring me that everything will be okay. I hug him close to my chest. And every second that I hold him close, my anxiety eases a little more. Could he be the key?

Testing this theory can wait until tomorrow. For now, I need a nap more than anything. Pushing past the collection of gowns hanging on the canopy, I crawl into bed and quickly fall into a deep sleep beneath a lump of capes and shawls.

* * *

Viola shakes me awake sometime later, and I notice the familiar, sticky sensation of sweat pooling around me. My head pounds as I try to remember the nightmare that surely came, but I draw a blank.

“Into the bath! Now! Up you go!” Viola tugs at my arm, pulling me towards the bathing chamber. “We didn’t expect to find you looking like a wraith emerging from the depths! We’re going to have to work double-time to prep you for the banquet! Unless you have a preference, Gemma will choose everything for you this evening. Now, go!”

“I have no preference.” I find myself feeling extra grateful for their guidance. Without them, I’d probably spend hours second-guessing every choice. I have no idea what’s appropriate for a banquet, much less meeting a group of conniving courtiers.

This might be the least relaxing bath I’ve ever taken. The twins keep popping their heads into the room, rotating in regular intervals, to ask if I’m done yet or to get approval on various shoe and outfit combinations. Rather than hasten my bathing, it has the opposite effect. Every reminder of the importance of this evening makes me want to stay here forever.

One more minute, I think. But when that minute expires, I repeat the process all over again. Thirty more seconds. Ten more seconds. Nine and a half more seconds…

Viola whisks me away the second I stand, wrapping me in a sun-warmed towel. In the bedroom, Gemma is beaming, holding an ivory gown with rosy little flowers sewn into the fabric. It reminds me of the gown the queen wore when I arrived here – another terrifying reminder of my unbelonging. In her other hand, she holds a matching cape with a delicate silver clasp.

Her eyes widen with delight as she asks, “Do you like it?”

“Like it? Gemma, I… it’s the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen.” My heart thuds as I begin to fear that I’m not enough for it. Not enough for this life. They seem to think that I might be capable of being a good queen, but they’re wrong. I’m ordinary and so, so unworthy.

“That’s not all!” Gemma gently places the gown onto the bed and moves toward the vanity to grab a silver tiara with star-tipped prongs extended in the shape of a halo.

“It’s stunning, really, but I can’t wear all of this,” I say, motioning to the tiara, the jewels, and the gowns. “It’s not… right for me.”

I’m an imposter, and this court will see right through me.

“Don’t be silly. You were destined for this life. You just need a little confidence boost, that’s all.” Gemma, always looking on the bright side, says what she thinks I want to hear. But I’ve only known her for three days. And in that time, all I’ve managed to do is move fruit around the room. I hardly have any worldly knowledge or experience. How do they expect me to rule a kingdom when a simple court banquet terrifies me and my greatest accomplishment so far has been a food fight? I clasp my hands together, trying to mask their shaking.

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