Page 2 of Secrets & Curses of Cerithia

“Thea, did you do what I asked?” My father raised his dark brow at me.

I nodded. For some reason, I did not mention the guard uttering Cassius’ name because I didn't even know if it meant anything significant. At this point, I believed I had probably imagined it, just like I imagined the woman with star-colored eyes.

“How many guards were stationed?”

“Twenty-one,” I muttered.

The queen scoffed, making me turn my attention back to her, which she shrank away from. She was always so rude for someone who was terrified of me.

“You killed twenty-one men by yourself?”

I didn’t respond because I hated her. No, my darkness hated her. As soon as I returned with my father and saw her and my sisters, I hated them. My mind might not remember why, but something deep inside of me did.

She did not hide her distaste for me. Gwyn referred to me as the bastard of Cerithia, and my father did not stop her. It was clear what my position in this kingdom was.

“Gwyn,” Jesper said, his glare sharp. “Do you need Thea to demonstrate her powers to you firsthand?”

He was always sticking up for me, and I didn’t ask him to. I didn’t need him to. They stared at each other for a long, awkward moment before everyone turned to me again.

“Am I dismissed?” I muttered.

“Yes,” the king whispered, and they all watched me walk away without another word. I headed down the stairs to where the maids and servants lived—where I lived. Just before going into my room, my eyes lingered on the black door at the end of the hallway, as always.

It caught my attention every time I came to my room. Without thought, I walked to it quickly. The closer I got to the door, though, the more the air filled with an almost suffocating feeling. I struggled to approach the door. Slowly, I placed my hand on the knob and tried to enter the room. As usual, it was locked. It had been each time I tried to get in. The physical effect of being close to this door was unbearable, so I turned and headed into my bedroom.

As soon as I was in, I stripped off my blood-soaked clothes and bathed. No thoughts ran through my mind as I watched blood and dirt circle the drain. My mind was in a constant state of confusion. Nothing made sense anymore, and I tried to stop piecing together what my life was before I lost my memories. When I walked out of my personal washroom, my eyes scannedthe ridiculously small bedroom that was mine. Seeing that nothing was amiss, I decided to rest.

My body protested as I lay on my extremely uncomfortable bed and stared at the crack running along my ceiling. The walls were chipping from age, and an odd color of pale yellow had started to show through.

This room was more suffocating than my room in Exile had been. Each night, I lay here and stare at the cracks in the walls, and each night all I can think of is how much I missed my home. The gods were sick fucks, making me think Exile was my prison, but Cerithia felt worse than anywhere else. Crimson had at least pretended to like me. No one here could even muster up enough fake affection to make me feel welcomed.

My family did not seem to miss me. Sybil and the twins were dead. The man I loved did not want me back. He had never been my savior like I thought; he was my captor. I was just too starved for love to notice. But now my eyes were open, and my heart was closed off. I noticed the way those in Cerithia treated me—like I wasn’t anyone of importance. I noticed the cold looks and the fear in their eyes. No one here trusted or liked me, but I didn’t feel sad about it. I didn’t like it here either.

I turned to my side and stared at the dried, black flowers on my nightstand. They were out of place here, but they were the only thing that made me stop thinking about this new prison I was in. I wondered where they had come from. Had I collected them when I was younger? Did someone give them to me?

I yawned as I tried to fight sleep. My heart’s pace quickened because it knew what would happen when I closed my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I was happy about it or tortured by it. I sighed and closed my eyes, knowing my broken mind would show me Cassius.

Chapter 2

"Icould make you happy." Jesper smiled at me as I tried to find a way over the wall my father had built around the castle to keep me in. I turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"A future king does not want a bastard daughter." I frowned as I looked for a branch to help me climb over.

"I don’t care about all of that," he sighed. "You kissed me; I thought you liked me."

Intent on ignoring him, I reached for the next branch, only to find it missing. I rolled my eyes heavenward, realizing my father must have cut the branches off the trees so I couldn’t climb them anymore.

I turned back to him. "Your family would never approve, and neither would mine. Besides, no one wants me. I’m broken and tainted." I repeated the words my stepmother had said about me when she thought I couldn’t hear. Even though I knew they were true, it still hurt when she said them.

"I don’t care," he ground out. "I want to try."

"You aren’t my type," I said as an excuse. I didn’t know what my type was, but Jesper Alcove was not it. Sure, he was handsome, but that was as far as the appeal went.

He scoffed. "I’m everyone’s type."

I scrunched my face at his comment. He said things like this a lot, conceited prick.

"Well, not mine."

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