royal thieves | ni-ki

TWO

Deceptive monarchy.

THEYA

Some days I feel as though I am drowning. 

Its appearance frequent, the memory terrible, it feels as if I am forever plunged into the depths, and my sole breaths of air come by way of forcibly keeping my head aloft, keeping my mouth sealed so as to prevent water from entering.

Right now, it feels as though the water has caused my lungs to burst.

And yet, Caius looks at me like I have just told him something so awfully funny. His cat-like eyes shine in the moonlight, enhancing the glassy look in them.

"Oh, wow. Your day has come, then?" He smiles at me, still having no idea about the significance of what I have truly done. "I'm proud of you. I knew you had it in you!" My friend giggles at me, putting his hand awkwardly on my shoulder and petting it, as though I might just be his dog.

I swat his hand away, noting that mine is tainted brown with mud. On the way here, I did not notice that I must have fallen.

"But I do wonder why you said you think. Can't you remember? Has something left you scarred from the experience?" When he gets excited, his eyes appear as if they're about to spill thick tears.

Taking my time to answer, I form the words in my head, but they all sound wrong. Not because they are not the truth, but because I feel ashamed of my own mind, of the magic flowing through my veins.

Never have I backed down, have never felt regret for myself because of the thing that made me the beast that I am.

It is catastrophic, to be the one thing you have never wanted to be. A murderer. Sicarius, my father called me. A name that he has not before used, or not for me. Even without telling, having believed as well that perhaps my acting had convinced him, he knows it is me who killed him.

"Sicarius. The beloved nickname that one day will belong to you, my dear," he said, and I paid him none of my attention, did not believe that I would ever do a single thing my father does for his entertainment.

That he could say such a thing and still call me, 'my dear' seemed so ironic to me. "The Kingdom would be a much better place if you did not push your daughter to be someone she has no interest in becoming."

I closed my eyes, and when I heard him come closer, I opened them and stared at him, a tired and defiant girl, only fourteen.

"Don't look at me like that, Theya. You will wear it like a crown. As a crown, in fact. Above the tangible crown, which could be easily stripped away with hand, the true power is held fast by the knowledge of what cannot be stolen."

In his world, claiming lives and being proud was indicative of might. However, if you committed murders and felt sorrow, it was reflective of cowardice. The clocks of bloodhound Kings ticked differently.

He looked at me then, the face that was identical to mine, eyes that resembled deadly midnights and plump red lips that often bled from how hard he often he bit down on them.

"Maybe I just don't want that kind of power."

In his eyes shone a wicked glint of both ecstasy and perfect tranquility, an expression he did not bother hiding from me.

"I promise you this, my offspring: once you get a glimpse of true might, you shall never want to let it go. Soon, you will crave domination; soon, you will crave ruin. I know that, for when I behold you, all I can see is pieces of myself that ought to be destroyed for the sake of the world."