Page 4 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
My attention shifts back over to the dark blue lake, a few boats dotting the otherwise calm water. I imagine the people in them to be fishing or even just enjoying a day off in the sun—none the wiser that the princess they believe is hiding by choice is actually locked up against her will. Would they even help me if they knew the truth?
Bang! Bang! Bang!The knocking puts a halt to my anxious thoughts. I run barefoot across the bottom level, my light blue day dress fluttering around my ankles as I fling the old wooden door open until it smacks into the stone wall. Alexi startles, nearly dropping the large wooden box in his hands, before he shakes his head and murmurs under his breath about how I’ll be the cause of his death. I bite down on my lower lip to stop my laugh from bubbling out and sweep my arm majestically in front of me to beckon him inside. He grumbles again before stepping through the doorway and into the main living area, the boots of his King’s Guard uniform clicking on the worn panels. He’s dressed—as he usually is—in uniform black; the only exception being the gold cuirass covering his chest and back as well as the gold sword sheathed at his waist.
At one time, there was a rug in the middle of this space, plush and light gray in color. The memory makes my shoulders tense. My throat constricts as my hands fist, an array of images playing out in my mind: a nearly lifeless body, blood pooling out on the rug, Alexi’s pale face, my cries echoing out—No. I force the memory of that night down, down, down until my hands relax. Interlacing them in front of me, the thumb from one hand runs along the crescent shapes my nails made digging into the palm of my other hand. My smile wobbles faintly before I force it back in place.
Alexi has been with me since I was around eight years old—an imposing presence that used to frighten me as a child but I have now come to rely on for the comfort of companionship. He is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a parent. Illuminated by the light of the sun, I frown as I study his profile. He looks tired, the purple bags under his eyes visible even with his tanned skin.
“I cannot stay long, Little One.” His voice is low, as if he’s worried someone will hear—even this high up surrounded by stone. Despite that, the nickname he’s called me since I was a child eases some of my concern.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, coming to kneel on the floor next to the box Alexi set down. Twice a month, I get a fresh supply of food as well as toiletries brought to me. Sometimes I even get something special, like papers and quilled pens with tiny pots of ink. My most favorite surprises, though, are desserts.
“The Cruel Death has spread. More than twenty men in the guard alone died last week, an additional hundred or so residents from the capital as well,” he says in a grave voice. “We are short a few bodies in the guard until more apprentices finish their training. The king will be addressing the kingdom later this morning, and all the King’s Guardsmen are required to attend.”
“That soundsalmostas much fun as attempting to train a fox to dance so that you don’t go insane due to lack of entertainment,” I snark as I look over my shoulder at him and smirk, watching as he rolls his brown eyes.
I don’t mean to be callous; the Cruel Death is awful, and from what Alexi has told me, the way it kills is horrific. One day you could be healthy as an ox, going about your daily business, and the next you’ve aged ten years and started to waste away. Within a few days, you’re nothing but a skeleton, your soul gone to the Afterlife. It has been this way for a long time, and no one has been able to figure out how to stop it or slow it down.
“You were able to train the fox to use the toilet; I have no doubt you could train her to dance if you really wanted to,” he insists, fighting his own grin.
“You’ll have to let me know what His Majestyhas to say about it all. I’m sure he’ll use the opportunity to drone on about howonly hehas the capability to keep our realm safe and finally end the Cruel Death.” I mimic the king’s voice, remembering what Alexi had told me he said at the last kingdom address he made. He doesn’t care about keeping anyone safe; he only cares about having power over them—at least if his treatment of me is any indication. Alexi sighs but says nothing.
My attention goes back to the items in front of me as I pull each one out of the box: dried meat for Bella and I, apples, bread, nuts, and fresh peas. A familiar scent hits the air, my eyes widening as I squeal, pushing my honey blonde hair behind my ears and turning towards Alexi. I gasp, asking, “Is that what I think it is?” There is no hiding the excited tremble of my voice because Alexi has brought me a surprise.
Chapter Two: Rhea
Idon’twaitforhim to answer as I grab—and then promptly toss—each remaining item out of the box until I get to the bottom, where the delectable scent is coming from. Alexi squats down next to me, chuckling quietly as he picks up the items I’ve dumped and begins to sort them. I gently lift the small box out like it might disappear if I move too gruffly. A sweet lemon scent surrounds me, and I can’t help the happy sigh that releases as I inhale deeply.
“I’m sorry it isn’t more. I had to sneak a slice while Emelia wasn’t looking,” he says while making a neat pile of my forgotten items on the floor. Emelia, the castle baker, makes the most delicious desserts, but she, apparently, doesn’t like sharing them with anyone outside of the current royal family. Which is ironic given that Iamtechnically part of the royal family. Or maybe she just doesn’t like sharing them with Alexi.
“Don’t ever apologize for bringing me even acrumbof this treat. I swear it is sent from the gods themselves,” I beam. He smiles at my dramatics as I pull out the parchment-wrapped dessert from the box and carefully lay it on my lap.
The sun hits the yellow loaf slice as I unwrap it, making the white icing glisten. My mouth waters in response.I will not cry happy tears about eating lemon loaf.I should cut this into pieces to make it last, since I have no idea when I will get more, but my restraint snaps as I take a large bite. I let out a comically loud groan as the flavors dance along my taste buds. It’s tantalizingly sweet and sour, perfectly balanced in every way. Mere seconds pass before the slice is completely gone and I’m licking my fingers clean of any evidence. Bella finally makes her way over, sniffing at my crumbs before turning towards me with what looks like a frown on her pointed face. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t think foxes are supposed to eat lemon loaf, anyway.”
She huffs in response and then walks to Alexi, her fluffy snow-white tail wagging happily from side to side. Bella’s head comes up to Alexi’s waist, the height just right for him to rest his hand between her ears and scratch without bending over. My eyes trace over him, noting the tense lines of his face and shoulders. I would consider him a handsome man, objectively speaking. His salt-and-pepper hair is shorter around the back and sides, while somewhat longer on the top. In the years that I’ve known him, I’ve never seen his square jaw as anything but clean-shaven. But it has always been Alexi’s eyes that have held my attention the most with their expression—kind and compassionate whenever they look at me. Except for now. Now they just look tired and sad.
Alexi eyes me carefully, taking a deep breath before he says, “I’m afraid I have some bad news. You won’t see me again until the next supply drop-off.” His voice is tentative, a note of pain laced within it that causes the high from my treat to immediately vanish.
“You can’t come back even once before then?” I ask, my breath quickening as I scan his eyes. “I’m in need of another haircut, and your skills are truly the best.” I mean for the words to come out playful and sarcastic, but my voice cracks at the end, giving away my desperation.
Alexi’s eyes soften further as he reaches out a hand to pull me up. When his silence goes on longer, unease settles like a rock in my stomach. He flattens his lips together like he’s trying to stop the words he has to say from leaving his mouth.
“I was informed by another guard that word has traveled about me leaving my post some nights,” he answers, taking another steadying breath. “I’m unaware if the king knows, but I fear for your safety if he finds out I’ve been coming here. I don’t want him to…” He trails off, clenching his jaw as he turns his gaze out towards the balcony.
A ringing starts in my ears at his words. Going forward, he will only stop by to drop off my supplies—once every two weeks—and if he’s already being watched, he won’t even be able to extend those visits. My stomach drops and my knees wobble as everything around me blurs.This can’t be happening.
Alexi is so careful—beyond careful—about when, and how long, he visits me. He always waits until the night is darkest and shadows are cast across the base of the tower door, so to the unsuspecting eye, it looks like there might be someone standing there. From what he’s said, no one is allowed to even cross the long bridge that leads from the castle to my tower unless they go through a group of guards stationed on that side first. He never stays more than an hour at most, but that hour… that hour iseverything.An hour where I hear someone else’s voice for a change. An hour where I can talk to someone and have them actually respond. When, for once in my twenty-one years of being alive, I’m not completely alone. If not for that single hour a few times a week, I never would have learned how to play cards or how to spell my own name or even how to do basic math. Alexi has taught me all those things and more, in one hour increments, in the dead of night, foryears.
My lips part slightly as my breathing increases, my chest rising and falling rapidly as if I’m sprinting. And in my head, I am. I’m sprinting towards an existence where I’m free. Free of this prison. Free of the king. Just,free. My hands shove into my hair, nails scraping my scalp as I tug the strands taut until I feel like I might pull them all out. There is no stopping the stinging of my eyes as my feet propel me to pace the length of the living area. A scream builds in the base of my throat, constricting the air from reaching my lungs.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t—
“Breathe, Little One.” Alexi’s hands find my shoulders, halting my movements. My head hangs low, unable to lift under the crushing weight of the loneliness and despair that sits heavy on me. He guides me to sit on the small black couch, his warm hand holding my own. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard, but we do not want the king to have more attention on you than he already does. I cannot be the reason he decides to punish you.”
My face turns up to him, watching as his eyes go far away in a memory. I was young—barely fifteen—the first time the king laid his hands on me. I had made the mistake of asking about my parents—my father in particular—and had woken up on the floor with a pounding headache and a sore jaw. Alexi had come over shortly after the king left, and I’ll never forget the look on his face as he rushed to where I had lain on the ground. Studying the lost expression he wears now—the furrowing of his brows and clenching of his jaw—I know he’s back in that moment again. My heart hurts knowing that he feels any responsibility at all. I don’t blame him for anything the king has done to me—how could I? If he attempts to step in, he’ll be killed, and the king will just put someone else in his place. Someone who probably won’t care if my hair needs a cut or if Bella—who isn’t even supposed to be in this tower—is fed. Someone who won’t sneak me treats just because he knows it’s the one highlight I have in this monotonous existence.
“I hate to leave you,” he says quietly, “but I have already been here longer than necessary to anyone watching.” I nod my head because what else can I do? Desperation creeps in on the edges of my mind like an ominous cloud, threatening to consume any tiny amount of joy I might have dared to store in there. “Rhea…” His words trail off as he slides off the couch, kneeling on one knee before me. “You will be okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but you were meant for so much more than this. I will figure out a way to help you. Do you understand?”
I turn his palm up, showcasing the white line that scars his skin. The blood oath he was forced to make by the king prevents him, and all other members of the King’s Guard, from helping me escape this tower. If he breaks the oath in any way, the magic will demand a price—the payment will be his life. It isn’t that I haven’t thought about leaving on my own either; I have. It’s just that, in addition to having nowhere to go, the king has also spread the lie that I’mchoosingto be in this tower, still grieving over the loss of my parents. Would anyone help me if I told them I was an escaping princess? Would they even believe me?
