Crowns of Flame and Ice - Book One

(8) Whispering Skin 🔥

The sun was starting to slip behind the faraway mountains now, casting the distant Sevian river into shimmering shades of orange and red. I often liked to pretend I could hear and see the busy streets of Vauxhaven when I stared out of the window, pretending I was simply a passer-by tired from a day's work in one of the local stores. I tried not to, not when the silence that followed was almost deafening and always too hollow. I had to keep my mind busy all of the time even if it was just reading or painting with James and Rosie because if I didn't, I just thought too deeply. I had to have something else on my mind at all times because if I didn't, if I just left my mind blank, the what-ifs and the utter nothingness stalks in. Nothingness is better than letting them hurt you. I often wondered how Rosie and James had slithered their way through my walls. How no matter the number of bitter words I threw at them, whether it was from rage or an attempt to push them away they still somehow stayed. Not many things scared me but that... that absolutely terrified me. The second my family found out how much they meant to me they'd use them against me, James was strong but nothing could withstand the power of the crown. My father wasn't even that strong but his will, his tyranny was. Or at least the kingdom's fear of him was.

I'd seen myself the first time I'd seen his will up close. When I was eight, I'd not been old enough to feel the coldness of the king and queen's reign. I'd wanted to do everything possible to impress them. So I went to the balls, the parties, the gatherings and the meals all in the hopes of just being noticed. That's all I had wanted, a glimmer of recognition. This particular occasion has been on the last blessing ever performed almost ten years ago, an event that was supposed to represent the generosity and respect of the crown. I always thought it was a chance for them to show off how utterly powerless people were against them. A family had stepped forward holding a very pale, thin and frail child. The exact features of the family were fuzzy to me now but I remembered the look on the mother and father's faces as they looked down at the child, love. It had been love that compelled them to drop to their knees and beg the crown, my parents, to help pay for the medical treatment for the child or help them find work to pay for it themselves. My father had flatly refused and offered no explanation to the couple and I stood there and saw the exact moment they had lost their hope. The father asked why they were making such a ruling and, in a fit of rage, my father had ordered the child killed. I still remember his booming voice as he'd yelled "those who are not strong enough to provide for their families should not have them". Even now I didn't understand that at all, the fact that the couple had walked into that room in front of all of the sneering royals and had asked for help. That act alone showed phenomenal strength, way more strength than I had. Then, to top it all off my father had sneered "at least now I've relieved you of that burden, that is to be your blessing". There had been no blessings since. Through it all, I'd just stood there as that family had everything they had literally ripped away right in front of them. Perhaps my entire family was cursed, none of us deserved the crown.

Shadows swirled in the corner of my vision as I suddenly felt an icy, angry wind slice across my face from the open window slapping me out of my thoughts. I realised I'd been so lost in my head that the sky was now a deep shade of purple. The silence had returned which most likely was a good thing especially when my rage made me want to punch something, preferably Quilo's smug face.

Sighing I shuffled my way over to the pristine white tiled bathroom and glared up at myself in the bathroom mirror. My freckles always faded more this time of year, reduced to a faint dusty brown splattered over my nose. Those lips, my sister's lips, my mother's lips always made me cringe slightly. I'm not entirely sure I'd ever seen them in anything but a mocking smile or a bitter frown. I smiled warmly, brightly at myself in the mirror trying to banish away some of the familiarity there, but to no avail. I was as rotten inside as the others, perhaps it's in our DNA. Rolling my eyes I dropped the smile and splashed some water over my face, dried off and tugged my fingers through the knots in my red hair.