Double-Edged

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The mirror in my chamber is slightly cracked, distorting my face so that one side appears different from the other. I won today. I won. But something about the victory feels temporary, like it can be taken away at any moment if I don't maintain a delicate balance. I know she's always going to be waiting, ready to take everything the moment I slip up. A shadow flickers behind me, pulling me out of my head, and I don't have to turn around to see who it is.

My father's broad figure looms behind me in the mirror, his ceremonial attire so massive, he dwarfs me in comparison.

"Daughter, your coronation is to take place in only a month," he says, his voice laced with authority even when addressing his daughter. I suppose it helps ensure he never loses it.

"I am aware, father. It's just," I hesitate, uncertain how to continue,"I can't help but feel as though it should have been him. It should have been Aatiq."

"Daughter, when you take the throne, you will learn that you're almost always surrounded by ghosts. The ghosts of past monarchs. The ghosts of the people who die under your reign. The ghosts of past versions of yourself. Do not let these ghosts get in the way of your duty or your power. As deeply as the death of my eldest child upsets me, he is just another one of these ghosts. For one reason or another, you have been left with the throne. Do not waste the opportunity you have been given."

Something about my father's words is unsettling to me. Perhaps his duties as king have made him accustomed to concealing his emotions, but I don't think I'll ever fully get used to it, much less be able to emulate it myself. But I still nod.

"I will not disappoint you, father."

"Good. I shall see you at your first council meeting then, daughter."

With that, my father, King of Kalinga, stalks out of my chamber, leaving me utterly overwhelmed with the weight of his kingdom.

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An hour after my father leaves the chamber, there is a knock at my door.

"Madam Gazib requests you at your lesson, my lady." It's Tia, my lady in waiting. I sigh. It's impossible to catch a break when it comes to Madam Gazib.

"Coming," I grumble from atop my bed.

I throw on a casual deep blue salwar, tuck my hair into a neat ponytail, and scurry across my chamber to open the door for Tia. Her sharp features are set in a manner that doesn't hide her frustration at my tardiness.

"You're late," she says, her full lips twisted into a scowl, "again."

"Come on, Tia, you know it's been a long day."

"Save it for Madam Gazib."

I stick out my bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

"Maybe I'll make it if I run."

She scoffs. "And when have you ever done that?"

"Today, if you race me," I jab Tia in the elbow and sprint away from her, my laughter echoing against the sand-colored marble of the castle.

Stretches of Acetan engravings blur past us and the colors of the elaborate paintings mounted on the castle walls run together in a jumble along the sand-colored walls as we hurry past them. Our shoes struggle to keep us upright as we hastily turn corners on the smooth marble floor. At last, panting, yet exhilarated with the moment's rush, we stand before the formidable double doors of the study. Tentatively, I place my hand on the brass handle, not quite ready to open it. I turn back to Tia.