A Story of Blood and Thorns

Chapter 10

My first step out the door is uneventful. I thought that maybe once I was in the palace, I would feel a sense of belonging, a sense of being home.

I still feel out of place.

With Sabien by my side and the guard at my back, we meander through the halls, stopping every few paces so I can ogle a painting or ask about a statue. There's a remarkable stone statue right outside my door. The man is nude and holds up a ball. Whoever carved the statue made the man so lifelike that I can imagine he's beside me, straining to carry the weight of the ball.

"That's Atlas," Sabien says. He touches the ball. "And this is the world. The carver made the story into a single moment. Rather ingenious, isn't it?" I nod my agreement, though I'm confused as to why someone would want to hold up the world. From the way Atlas's face is twisted, it seems painful.

Sabien leads me down two flights of stairs to a large circular area. There are eight nooks in the walls surrounding us, and in each one is a statue. The walls are painted light blue, with clouds floating across them. Each statue is a different object. One is a telescope, another is a rose, and others of the sort.

In front of us is a set of doors. Two guards stand beside them, their gaze unmoving. I walk up to one and wave my hand in his face. He doesn't blink.

"This is where I part," Sabien says. He takes two hurried steps away and freezes as the doors begin to open. I adjust my hair before he smacks my hand away. "Don't. It's fine."

I frown at him. Why is he so nervous about seeing his father? Before I can ask, a hoarse voice calls from within, "Come!"

Sabien takes my arm and we enter the room, brother and sister. The doors close behind us, giving us privacy from the prying eyes of the palace. It's us, the king, several guards, and the white figure I saw on the balcony. When the guards lock the doors, the figure pulls away the veil draped over her face, revealing an aged woman. Her lip trembles as she looks at me.

"Evangeline?" she whispers. She takes a step forward, but the king stops her with a hand. He stands from his chair in the middle of the room. Even after fainting, he commands attention.

"You claim you are the lost princess?" I nod. His eyes narrow. "What do you remember?"

A pit opens in my stomach. "Not much. I have a memory journal in my pack, but it was left at the village."

"Then how do we know you are the lost princess?" He sits back down, his fingers drumming against the dark wood. Sabien clears his throat. The king ignores him. Sabien coughs again, pounding his chest. When the king still doesn't respond, he makes a hacking sound that makes everyone look at him, including the king. "What, Sabien?"

Sabien's face hardens as he approaches his father. "Sir, she knew the name of the lost princess. Doesn't that count for something?"

"That's rubbish. Anyone could've asked the servants what her name was. Or enter the palace and hear Lillian calling for her. Or look in the old books that weren't rewritten. There are a thousand ways, boy." The king leans back in his chair. A triumphant smile breaks across his face. "Therefore, she is not the princess and is an imposter. Take her back to the dungeon.

The woman grabs the king's arms as the guards surround me, ready to take me away. "Please, Marcus. Look at her. Is she not the twin of Sabien? She has your eyes and my hair. She's our daughter. Even you cannot deny it." I startle at the identity of the woman. The book painted her as gentle and beautiful. She is beautiful still, but she has an air of sadness around her. Her eyes show her pain. And with pain comes sharp edges that can cut if you get too close.

King Marcus contemplates me once more. Once he decides something, he begins asking me questions.

"Where did you wake up?"