The Heir and the Undoing

Chapter 4

I'm still thinking about the note as the severe-looking selkie seamstress pins difference swatches of fabric to me the following morning.

Did someone see me that day on the battlefield? I had thought everyone was too focused on their own fights to notice. When I asked Alessia if she had seen anything, she just shook her head and told me she wished she could have been there.

She isn't to know that I don't think her presence would have made the slightest bit of difference, but I thanked her all the same. When I asked others for their experience of that day, everyone admitted they had felt the ground shaking and breaking under the pulse of power that my gift gave off. However, they had assumed it was the death of my brother that caused it. Why wouldn't it be? He was strong, powerful, and a magical force to be reckoned with. 

Even I had believed it was him at first that had caused it. They did not know me for more than being the sister just three minutes younger than him, with no gift and always dreaming of adventure I was too clumsy to experience.

My mind drifts to everything I learnt in the book last night and my eyes flicker to the bed, where it lies just under my pillow. I couldn't put it down, devouring every bit of knowledge it could give me. Learning how to access the power was so different to how the light fae magic worked. Light fae magic just required a mental call, whereas dark fae magic seemed to need a powerful emotion to trigger and fuel it. I had yet to try what it had suggested. Half-afraid of the damage, my gift had the potential to do if I couldn't control it.

I was exhausted too and, I felt like that gave me even less control over myself than usual. It wasn't as though I had not slept through the night since the day my gift burst free. My dreams were haunted by my brother's body, Duncan's demise, and the mysterious stranger who left me the note. I felt them, watching me now wherever I went. My whole body is on high alert. I can't relax, my power won't let me when it feels so unsafe. It was a conundrum, to defend myself and my power, I needed to learn to control it. To control it, I needed to practise using it and to use it I needed to feel safe enough to rest and so I was stronger. 

At this rate, I would get nowhere. The seamstress tuts her displeasure as I let one of my aching arms fall. "Arm up, I have hours to finish this instead of the days I should at the very least be allowed." she grumbles around the pins in her mouth. 

With a sigh, I obey and decide to let her attitude slide. Merino is the best in the dressmaking business and I am just grateful she believes it is possible for her to create me something for the ball tonight.

It seems she knows she can get away with a lot as well because she immediate lifts my chin out of her way and holds up different appliques against my chest. Her sharp grey eyes are assessing and deciding between options that somehow look all the same to me.

A soft knock at the door breaks her concentration, and she lets out a huff of annoyance, throwing up her hands and marching over to the trunk of cloth she brought with her to rummage for something.

I make sure I'm fully covered and decent before I call out, "Enter?"

The door opens slightly and a pretty, dark-haired woman slips in. "Your majesty." She says, her curls bouncing wildly as she drops into a curtsy.

"Violet, thank you for coming." I reply and wave for her to approach.

She hurries forward, her head still slightly bowed in respect, "Of course, my Queen, what do you need?"

"I find," I struggle to come up with the words to explain what is happening each night, "I find I am unable to sleep. The sleep I do have is plagued by dreams I'd rather not have, and I think they are getting worse." I explain tiredly, scrubbing my hand across my face.