Morons and Monarchs

Chapter Eight: Viviendel😡

𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒, 𝕯𝖊𝖑𝖙𝖆 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊.

He smiles, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. "Why hello, I was wondering where you ran off to?"

I roll my eyes, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "I was in the hallway."

He snorts and levels me with a stare like he knows I am lying. "Look in the mirror." That is all he replies, and I almost want to smack him across the face. This idiot.

When I turn around with a huff, I see I do indeed still have twigs in my hair, and my face is a mess of scratches. My eyeliner smudged down my face. I cringe at my reflection.

Delta grins, "I will try again: where were you?"

I flinch as his fanged mouth turns into a grin. "Hanging from a tree, yelling at a bird for trying to drop me and impale me on one of the pillars of the castle, and hiding in a hallway." I count it off on my fingers.

Delta roars, well technically he is laughing, but it sounds more like a roar than anything else.

I finally slapped him on the shoulder. He stops laughing immediately, looking at me like I was the idiot.

"That was petty," He says, and I hit him on the shoulder again, harder this time.

"Leave," I say, fire clouding my vision, and red coating my thoughts.

"That reminds me," he says. "Tomorrow you start your training."

I freeze. Turning around slowly, pivoting on one of my heels, I ask, "What training?"

He crosses his arms over his broad chest, "Guard training." He says simply as if it was that easy.

"I am not a guard!" I practically shout, keeping my voice quiet yet the tone violent.

He backs up a step, clearly surprised at my attitude. "No, but you are an heir." I level him with a glare. "And an heir has to learn how to use a sword," He counts off on his fingers. "Throw a dagger, ride a faerie hound, use a bow-and-arrow, learn basic combat, and manipulate."

When I scowl at him again, he finally backs out of the door. Keeping his hands up like I am some sort of volatile animal.

Little do they know, I was taught the basics of each before I could walk. It is a necessity for a Half and a human to learn how to defend themselves in any situation.

I swiftly huddle under the covers of my bed, my clothes from earlier still on. I am not a charity case, I do not need all the frilly clothing and billowing nightgowns littering the closet.

But when I close my eyes, I imagine what having a mother would be like.

I imagine baking cakes for birthdays, and cupcakes for water nymphs on March fifteenth, cookies for the guards on May eleventh.

A mother that might cover her face and make others cower from afar, yet give me the sweetest of smiles.

I can only hope that my dream manifests into reality.

I never had a mother, and when I asked my father... he never responded.

And the only chance I ever had at finding her and who she was evaporated before I even had the chance to relish the fact that there might be one out there for me. One that might love me like all the other local mothers. And all their fortunate daughters.

A tear slips out of the corner of my eye, and I swipe at it feverishly. Only for another to slip out. And another. A never-ending cycle. I am not crying, not really, no desolate sounds erupt from my mouth, only tears of years of hope leaving me in the dark.