The memory of Darian lingered, a disquieting warmth amidst the chill I expected. His gaze, when it met mine, held no trace of the ruthless killer I'd envisioned. Instead, a flicker of something... kind? Impossible.
Don't be a fool. Trust no one.
The dagger slipped from my suddenly scorching hand, clattering against the nightstand. Its hilt pulsed with heat. This volatile power, a secret I could barely contain, threatened to consume me. Another near-meltdown. Control was paramount.
The hours crawled by, each passing footstep outside my door a trigger for my tightly held breath, my hand instinctively reaching for the hidden dagger. Yet, no one disturbed my solitude, save Julie, who delivered my solitary dinner. A selfish relief washed over me. No forced smiles across the dining table, no Amora's venomous glances, no silent judgment from my family.
But the gilded cage of my room soon became its own torment. Boredom gnawed, a perverse invitation to the very danger I sought to avoid. I had to know. I retrieved a bucket of water, a pathetic safeguard against the unknown. The flames that had erupted in my hand that night... black. Unlike Clifton's vibrant bursts or Father's steady inferno. Black fire. An anomaly I'd never encountered, never heard whispered in ancient tales.
Summoning the power proved elusive. It had surged forth in moments of fear and rage, emotions absent now. I focused, straining to recapture the image of those wispy, ebony tendrils dancing on my fingertips. Hours bled into one another, a litany of failures. How could something so potent appear unbidden, yet remain stubbornly dormant now?
Frustration mounted with each failed attempt, eroding my fragile belief in this strange ability. Brock's promised tutelage felt a distant hope, especially now, with the shadow of the assassin still looming.
A chilling thought: a life without Brock. My anchor, my confidant. The only one who saw me. His loss would be a void I couldn't fathom.
A decision solidified. The library. Tomorrow. If my power was the dangerous secret Brock feared, then knowledge was my only weapon. And where better to unearth ancient truths than amongst forgotten texts?
[Chapter break]
Dawn painted the sky as my maids delivered breakfast, a silent ritual I hastened through. The library beckoned. Stepping into the deserted halls felt surreal, the silence amplifying my every footfall. A heightened awareness clung to me now, the unseen threat a constant companion.
The library doors swung open, revealing towering shelves pregnant with untold stories. Once a privilege reserved for tutors and stolen free moments, this sanctuary was now mine to command. The glass-domed ceiling bathed the rows of books in soft light, illuminating cozy reading nooks tucked amongst the towering stacks.
A familiar figure emerged from the labyrinthine shelves. Sabrina.
"Hey, Bri!" I called out, the sound echoing in the vast space.
Bri turned, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features before dissolving into a warm smile. "Aleah! Shouldn't you be... in your room? With that assassin still out there..."
"It's fine," I insisted, a bravado I didn't feel. "If I were the target, I'd likely be a footnote by now."
"Not exactly comforting," she replied, marking her page.
"What are you reading?" I asked, seeking a distraction.
"Oh, just a book on gardening I found tucked away." A genuine smile bloomed on her face, a rare indulgence of her quiet passion. The gardens, too, offered me solace, a silent communion with nature despite my own ignorance of its secrets.
YOU ARE READING
Crowned in Crimson Cinders
FantasyAleah has been told all her life that she is worthless and weak by her older sister, Amora. But, when Aleah finds out that she is going to be betrothed to the enemy prince, Darian, she finds out that she has ancient powers dating back hundreds of ye...
