Page 6 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

“I’m so glad you met Sixtine,” He says, his voice sincere, “I knew you’d like her.” He ruffles my hair. “I needed a friend while you were gone, I missed my baby brother.”

“Only by three minutes.”

“Still counts.” He says, dropping a loud, annoying kiss on the top of my head.

As our housekeeper and chef light a variety of candles in front of us, I look out into the sea of people and see Sixtine standing towards the front.

They all sing happy birthday and I distantly hear Astor blow out his candles beside me, but I’m still staring at her, our eye contact unbroken.

When she sees that I’m not making a move to blow mine out, she walks up to the table until she’s standing across from me. Her gaze drops to the dwindling candles.

“Remember to make a wish before you blow them out.”

I nod and look down at the cake, pretending that I need time to think about what my wish will be.

But I already know what I want.

I bend over and blow out all ten candles in one go, straightening to the sounds of applause and cheering from my parents’ friends.

Sixtine rounds the table and throws her arms around me again, enfolding me in a hug as she whispers against my ear.

“Happy birthday, Nix.”

Her use of the nickname I instinctively made up on the spot warms a part of me that I didn’t even know existed.

She releases me and walks around me to go hug Astor, pulling him into a similar embrace.

I watch her do so with smug satisfaction, crossing my fingers and hoping that wishes do come true.

Because if they do, then it doesn’t matter if she hugs Astor now.

When I’m older, I’m going to marry her.

Chapter 2

Sixtine, age 10

November

I run through the field at a desperate speed, my short legs pumping back and forth as quickly as they can, and then some.

My body shoves through the stalks of corn, the leaves whipping my arms and legs as I do so, but I don’t let myself get distracted by the pain.

I sprint through the cornfield and towards the line of trees. I’m going to be covered in scrapes and bruises tomorrow, but I don’t care.

I just need to hide.

I reach the tree line and race through it without pausing, the sounds of leaves and branches crackling under my pounding footsteps as I run faster than I probably ever have.

I don’t know if he’s started looking or if he’s even trying to find me specifically, but I don’t dare look back. If I’m going to make it, I can’t waste precious seconds looking furtively behind me.

He’d make me pay for that mistake, I just know it.

My foot catches on a root and I go sprawling to the cold, hard ground with a yelp. My hands bear the brunt of my injuries as they catch my fall, my palms getting cut up on small rocks and twigs surfacing in the dirt.

Wild strands of my hair escape my tight braid and fall in front of my eyes, obscuring my vision. I push them carelessly back behind my ears, undoubtedly smearing dirt and blood on my cheeks in the process, but that’s a problem for later.

Right now, I have to run.

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