Dead King's Sword (Old Draft)

18. When We First Met

Erin

***

When I left the bathroom and rounded the corner of the bedroom, Zeren's eyes grew bored of the TV. Pre-recorded laughter played over a Niverian comedy skit. A small smile was on Zeren's lips after hearing the joke, then she saw me, and her mouth made a small 'O'. "You bought a kaftan?" she asked.

I nodded.

The loose tunic settled on my rod-straight body. I had little to boast of, unlike Zeren, who sat shirtless on the bed, a black sports bra barely holding back her large breasts. The light from the chandelier sprinkled across her abs and toned legs, reminding me of a painting by Michael D'Angelo.

Zeren held out her hands as if she were asking for a hug and sat with her long legs hanging over the side of the bed. I walked into her arms, expecting an embrace, but her hands tenderly held my waist a distance away so she could examine me. The charmed expression that crossed her face would fool anyone watching her into thinking she was observing the most beautiful creature on the planet. Which I was not and would never be.

Zeren exhaled; her breath tickled my skin. Her fingers followed the triangles falling down the sides of my dress while her eyes focused on the golden flower blooming across my chest. Her smile grew, lips parting to reveal her white teeth; I saved the slow-motion clip to play on repeat when I tried to sleep later. "You look pretty," she said.

"I don't."

"You do." Zeren pulled me onto her lap, placing me between her thighs. Her hands explored my naked arms as I leaned against her chest. Her chin touched my head as she embraced me. "You came all the way here... for me?" There was a slight note of disbelief in her voice as she asked the question.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

My chest squeezed, and I found one of her wandering hands. I measured our fingers; hers were a tad longer. I slid mine into the grooves between hers. We stayed there, hearts and bodies linked. "Because I couldn't imagine what this life would be like without you."

"You could have been hurt or killed. I would have hated myself if something bad happened to you while you were trying to help me."

"You would have done the same for me, right?"

"Of course; I'm your handsome knight in shining armour. Everyone wants me, but only you can have me."

"You're not wearing much armour right now," I said, shifting to face her and pushing her onto the bed. Zeren's back hit the white counterpane, and I crawled on top of her like a lioness toying with her prey. I kissed her shoulders and traced a coin-shaped scar near her pelvis, a reminder of a bullet that had torn through her skin. My index drew a line between her breasts and caught on the bridge of her bra. Zeren covered her eyes with her right hand as her ears reddened. I laughed. "What's this about?"

Zeren's pinky shifted lower, revealing a portion of her left eye. "My body gets hot when you do stuff like this, and I worry that I'm making a weird expression."

I held her hand and pushed it down to her side. I loved the shyness that took hold of her grey eyes as she watched me. "I like seeing all of you, the weird and not-so-weird parts. I like them all."

"I hate you."

"I hate you too." I leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, then lay on my side next to her. Zeren shifted onto her side to face me, and we watched each other quietly.

"What's your first memory of me?" she asked.

"Probably the first time you set me on fire. Yours?"

Zeren smiled. "The first day we met was when you sat next to me in Grade One. It might have been the second week of school; my friend was sick, and you took his place, not caring that I came from a poor family and that my poorness might rub off on you. Then you started drinking blood, and I remember how everyone moved away from you like you had fleas or something, and even though they were scorning you, you didn't care what they thought of you; you just kept drinking your blood with a cold expression on your face. Right then, I fell for you. Quickly as that." She snapped her fingers.

"Really? That was so long ago; are you sure you remember it correctly?"

"Of course, I have an amazing memory."

"Mhm." I started to remember bits of my first day at school. I remembered Zeren in a worn purple robe that had a few holes.

Five pencils had stuck out of her afro, which I had found mildly intriguing, so I sat next to her to see how well her system worked.

A few minutes after classes began, the teacher yelled at Zeren to take the pencils out of her hair. Zeren refused, saying the teacher was jealous because her hair was limp and straight and couldn't hold pencils. The teacher, whose face and name I had forgotten, sent Zeren to stand at the back of the class, where Zeren pouted and grumbled to herself till lunchtime. Some of the kids had whispered about Zeren being too poor to afford a pencil case, but when I looked down, Zeren's bag was open, and a bear-shaped pencil case had been tucked to the side of her notebooks.

***

Princess Anne

***

The transportation box landed in front of Ivory Castle, my father's primary residence. I elbowed Prince Mark. "You get out first, and I'll follow behind you."

Prince Mark wore a skeptical countenance but made no attempt to argue with me. I heard my father's loud steps approaching our container. His fingers angrily punched in the code for the lock. I wished I had the ability to melt into a puddle on the ground and escape my parent's fury. The door opened, and sunlight trickled in from outside. My father waited in the doorway; messy blonde hair framed a haggard face. His eyes were sunken and red as if he hadn't slept for a week. He held out his arms, and I walked into them, returning his embrace. His red blazer blocked my view of our surroundings as it covered my face. "You are grounded for the rest of your life. And you're not allowed to see Kite for a year."

"I swear on my life that Kite had nothing to do with this. You can punish me but punishing him isn't fair."

"I know Kite had something to do with this; he always has something to do with it, and you let him know that he's not allowed in this house or within five feet of you for a year."

"But...."

"No butts."

He let me go.

My mother was standing just behind him, a hijab hiding her dark brown hair. A red dress covered her slender build. From her face alone, one would think she was no older than sixteen. She walked over to me, fire igniting her brown eyes. I looked over my shoulder and realized that Prince Mark had stayed in the car, so I couldn't use him as a shield, and my father had crossed his arms over his chest, so I doubted he would protect me either. Mother took my ear and wrung it. "You foolish, foolish girl. All those years I spent raising you, and you throw your life away as if it's worth nothing."

I walked alongside her as she pulled me toward the front entrance. An opal blue carpet, the colour of my father's eyes, spread across the front steps. A pair of black-robed guards opened the double door for us, and my mother yanked me inside. We strode down a long corridor, Mother's heels clicking on the tiles; flags from different countries decorated the high ceiling, and pictures of our family members lined the walls. My mother talked endlessly, letting me know how disappointed she was without giving me a chance to speak. "Did I not love you enough?" she asked, stopping by a statue of my grandfather. "Did your father not love you enough?"

"Mom—" She continued to squeeze my ear, and I worried it might fall off if she didn't stop. "I'm sorry."

Behind me, Prince Mark said, "If you want to punish her, you should take away her phone. Otherwise, she will just text Kite the entire time and won't learn anything."

Whose side was he on?

I glared at him for a second before my mother yanked my ear towards her. "Ow!"

"So, it hurts?" My mother asked, the fire still burning in her eyes. "Good."

***