Page 2 of A Clash of Stars

I wanted to be loved and cherished as my mother.

At some point our parents migrated into another room, leaving Madok and me alone.

“So, what should we do now that we have been abandoned?” Madok asked.

I chuckled, tossing my dinner napkin onto my plate and pushing the chair out to stand. “I think you should follow me.”

Madok mirrored every step and breath along our walk. I brought him into the game room, which held every game and puzzle known to man.

“Wow! What a room. Do you— Do you all really play games with each other?”

I smiled as I scanned the shelves for the playing cards.

“Yes. Once a week, my parents feel it is important we have a night together as a family. It’s my favorite. What about your family? Do you do anything like that?”

I paused at his silence, turning to see a somber expression on Madok’s face as he stared at his feet. Immediately I became aware that I made this conversation uncomfortable for him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry..”

He looked up, his somber expression morphed into curiosity. With measured movements, Madok reached for the playing cards in my hands.

“No. We don’t do anything for fun together. Occasionally, my father will take me hunting, but other than that, nothing.” He paused, taking a weighted breath, and staring intently into my eyes. “It’s okay that you asked me. I just…have never told anyone something personal like this.”

I offered him a timid smile, earning one from him in return for the first time. I noticed the small dimple that appeared in his left cheek. It was clear, even then, that Madok would be trouble for me.

Chapter 1

“Pick up the sword and do it again.”

I swear if I hear that voice tell me one more damn thing, I will–

“Clara! Are you even paying attention?”

I looked up to see the face that matched the horrid voice. His inky black hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in days, and his beady black eyes pierced me with judgment. His alabaster skin shone with a permanent sweat stash on his upper lip.

Unfortunately, I cannot escape himorthis class. Instructor Edward was our royal trainer, although he was more of a royalpainin my ass. I mustered the strength to plaster the sweetest smile, “I’ll try again.”

With a feigned gasp, “Finally, a response from ourgreatPrincess Clara.”

Instructor Edward leaned in, squinting as if searching for all my flaws

“To be victorious in the Variance, youmustput in the effort.”

I did my best to withhold my eye roll, but as a twenty-year-old girl, it wasn’t easy. I assumed my stance on the black plastered mat centered on the worn emblem of the Sefida crest–the symbol of our land's joining capital. Why hadn’t they replaced it?

“Clara!” the annoyingly high-pitched voice said again. “You’re obviously too distracted. Go to your room at once.”

Finally.

Strategically half-assing a lesson always guaranteed dismissal. I was nowhere near his prized pupil, but I was thebestpupil. Everyone knew it.

Walking into the changing room from class, I discovered an odorous smell that seemed to follow me everywhere I turned.

Oh gosh. It’s me. No wonder none of the boys want to be around me.

I was far from the fragile flower they expected a princess to be. Even warrior princesses were expected to smell like roses and look as fresh as dewdrops. Although the youngest royal in attendance, I was undoubtedly the most skilled.

We had been in Sefida, the capital city of Carondelet, for almost a year, all training like mad henchmen going to war all for the silly Variance to determine the fate of our quaint land.

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