THE ELEMENTAL CHRONICLE

Twenty-Two |

Twenty-Two |

When I returned to my room, I found Aldrich on my bed.

Or, I suppose it was still his bed.

It was dark, the room alit with a faint torch. I couldn't see his face clearly; however, I could make out the book in his hand. It was one from my father's library. The book was an older book with fragile pages. It was on the different types of dragons. I hadn't read it—I couldn't understand the words. However, I did enjoy the pictures.

Each type of dragon description was matched with beautiful ink illustrations. It must have taken the author much time to draw the delicate and detailed images—all to have the book printed anonymously. Such a shame indeed.

"Aldrich," I greeted warmly. "Have you decided to no longer ignore me?"

The book closed and he looked at me. Those brown eyes bright through the darkness.

"Forgive us," he said in a soft and apologetic tone. "We have been so busy lately. Or rather, that's what Father wished for me to tell you. But I don't wish to tell you lies little cousin."

It would warm my heart if I was not angry.

"What is the truth then?"

I crossed the room to sit beside him. Silence fell over us. I could practically smell his mind working to come up with a good explanation which only fueled my annoyance. He wished to tell me no lies and yet, when the truth was so censored and stretched—how could anyone think it still the truth? My lips pulled into a frown as he let out a heavy sigh.

"Father will be holding a ball in a week's time."

My brow arched. "But that is not why I've been ignored."

"No. It's not."

It was all so frustrating.

"Very well." I threw up my hands. "Tell me of this ball and allow me to point out the last ball we attended went terribly. Especially for kings."

He chuckled at that. "You are correct. Which is why Father is throwing a ball. Although, this ball occurs every year. It is the Ball of Isabeau. To honor our first monarch. You've been here for only a few moon cycles so perhaps you have yet to notice however, Neorian does not have seasons like Ipuina."

I nodded.

This was true, I'd read about it. Each of the kingdoms have vastly different seasons. While Ipuina had four seasons per sun cycle, Neorian only had two: a spring season where there was more rain than not, and an autumn season where the weather was dry and the air cold. I had also read Arianne was always summer and Sophocles was always winter. It was so strange to think about—how could anyone survive in a place that always had snow and cold? I'm sure they couldn't have any harvests.

"The ball of Isabeau occurs on the single day between spring and autumn. It is our hottest day and never has it ever rained on this day. They say this is also the day that our elemental abilities are the strongest," he explained. "Thus, a very special day for royals. It is the one day the Criostalan cridhe glow brighter than any other."

Confusion filled me. "But I thought they could not be activated?"

"They cannot. Which is why we honor the day with a ball and a sort of rite."

A rite? Something felt off in my stomach. Why did I not know of this by now?

"It's nothing terrible," he chuckled as if reading my mind. "Normally the tradition says that the female royal would do an elemental dance. Through this dance, the royal powers the crystals which casts luck and prosperity across the kingdom. It had been my mother's job and after her death, Kahuna had always done. However..."

My stomach dropped. "However?"

"We wish for you to do it this year."

"Why?" I cried. "I-I cannot! My abilities are worthless, and it will only confirm I am of royal blood. Not to mention it'll only further anger Ipuina."

He was quiet and I could feel my face pale.

My words were not shocking to him—he knew. He already knew all the terrible things it could cause. My mind hurt. If I did not make the protective crystals glow then it would prove I was weak and not worth Ipuina's trouble. It would have the entire kingdom wishing to save the poor girl the royals protected. Morale would boost for the kingdom, and if war came, everyone would align with the royals.

But on the other side, if I did make the crystals glow it would prove my royal blood, and that I was strong enough to make them glow. If that did not make Ipuina back down, it would rally the kingdom to fight for me.

This was wrong.

"I will not stir the waters," I hissed.

His head snapped to my direction. "I wish that were the case but you have no choice. We have no choice. There is no denying Ipuina's military strength—they are known for it. If it came to war, and it will at this rate, we would only win by having more numbers. Erik Yarrow will not send non-elementals to fight. He's too proud of his military. We can."

My mouth grew dry, and I could feel tears forming in my eyes. "This isn't right."

"Politics never are. But we cannot simply give you over. You are not simply Ciara Roisin. You are Ciara Albion, daughter of Jerrik Albion. Who was our kingdom's beloved Black rose. The people will realize that soon, if that haven't already."

He was right. A small sob slipped from my lips, and the only warmth I felt was when he placed his hand on my knee. All I ever wanted was to live. Then I wished to liberate the fae—but now? I was dragged again and again back into the politics of elementals.

"A week?" I whispered.

He nodded. "The dance doesn't matter. It's more important you show your abilities. Your vines would be fine. Do not worry of the crystals. Your training will continue with Oris Thistle tomorrow."

I had a week to train.

Dread filled me but then so did anger. I clenched my fists. It all seemed suddenly so convenient. Why Kahuna showed me the grue cave, why Oris had been training me—had they already planned this before Bram arrived?

"D-did you know? From the start?"

His hand slipped from my knee, and he looked away. "All we want is to protect you."

But at what cost? I clamped my lips shut.

"Rest cousin," he said warmly. "The future is a bright one."

With that he slipped from the room. I just watched him go. As the door shut, the torch went out, casting me and the room into darkness. Which only furthered my mind's spiral into shadowed thoughts.

It had become a game. Even if that was not their intention, I had been made a fool once more. I pressed my palms to the sides of my face in shame. I was a fool to blindly trust my place here. How could I think for a second that I had escaped the politics of court?

I wouldn't do that again.

From now on, I wouldn't trust anyone.