The Fall of Vequera

Chapter twelve | Nikolai

A BROKEN FLAME: ACT TWO

LOCATION: ARCADIOS, VEQUERA

YEAR: 620 C.E

IT HAD BEEN ELEVEN DAYS SINCE VALIA'S DISAPPEARANCE AND NO ONE HAD A CLUE IF SHE WAS DEAD OR ALIVE.

He silently hoped she was dead but he was also annoyed that, he hadn't been the one to do it. During those eleven days, his mother tried to keep the court from falling into chaos after what had happened with Ser Hayden. His father hadn't spoken since then. Nikolai glanced warily at his mother as they walked to the throne room. She hadn't told him why she wanted him there, but she interrupted his plans to go to the tavern. Dawson followed behind him but stopped before entering the room. He shut the door behind Nikolai. "I have someone for you to meet."

Queen Isabella moved to sit on the throne. His eyes wandered around the room until they landed on a man and a girl about his age or older. They stood to the side of the throne. The room grew colder by the second and he turned to glare at his mother. "Who are these people?" His voice held venom as he spoke. His hands pressed against his sides as his palms grew sweaty.

The girl stepped forward, looking Nikolai in the eyes as she spoke. "I am Princess Amren of House Bard. My father is King Odel." Her arms were neatly folded behind her back. His eye twitched as the both of them stared each other down. Her tone lacked respect and it rubbed him the wrong way, his nose flared, and he didn't break eye contact.

"Why are you here?" He sneered.

"Why is she here?" He turned to his mother, who began to grip the sides of the throne.

"King Odel and I have agreed that you and Amren will be married."

Amren smiled delightfully. So naïve. He pushed himself to take her in. His eyes wandered from her face to the rest of her body. She had light brown skin that almost looked like sand, but it was darker. Her hazel eyes reminded him of Dawson's as she averted to the man standing next to her. The man cleared his throat before he walked out. "This is too sudden." He exclaimed as he dug his nails into his thighs until he broke skin. He didn't want to get married. He forced himself to smile at her then he turned to his mother.

"I'm not going to wed her." As he looked his mother in the eyes and spoke softly. She gave him a glare.

"You are, and that is the end of it."

If they were married, he would ruin the girl. All the radiance she showed would fade away. As he returned his gaze to the girl, Nikolai's lips formed a thin line. Her smile had faded, but her eyes remained bright. Something was wrong with her. He glared at his mother and his eye twitched. "Then I'll kill her." He snapped. His mother welcomed his glare with her own. The air around them tightened, Queen Isabella stood from the throne and slowly made her way to her son.

Then she slapped him, which caused his head to snap to the side and the sound echoed throughout the room.

"I do not have time for your disrespect. You must remember I am your Queen before I am your mother." She sneered sharply. Her nostrils flared in anger.

Nikolai stared at the ground before he slowly looked up at her and his eyes showed no emotion. Dead eyes. "Of course, your majesty." He gritted his teeth and his eyes drifted to Amren who refused to look at him.

He bowed mockingly. Queen Isabella rolled her eyes before backing away from him. "You and Amren will be married in a week's time. Try to get to know each other."

Nikolai didn't know what to say or how to act so he just smiled and nodded. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. His sister was missing, and all his mother wanted was to get him married and out of her hair. The only one that seemed to give a shit about Valia was their father. He had sent a few knights to go find Valia, but they always came back with nothing. Vasily had grown depressed, and he isolated himself in his chambers. Nikolai didn't know if he was happy that she was gone. Killing her had been one of his only goals since they were younger but someone else had done it for him. He wasn't sure whether he should have been jealous or delighted that they had succeeded while he could not. He needed a drink.