Legend has it, if you stand in front of a mirror, shuffling an enchanted deck of cards, you can open a doorway between dimensions.
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Prince Teodric of Springport remembers the promise he made his father: to *not* try to reenact the legend of dimen...
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"I asked you not to let them in," I said, rubbing my forehead, sensing the ripples of skin gathered there in stress.
The heavily armored man I habitually trusted with my life bowed to me. "You also asked me to do what I deemed necessary for your safety."
I arched an eyebrow. "And them being here equals safety?" I pointed a trembling finger at the map of Acewood behind me, tacked to the crumbling wall. "They're from the capital. Well, Ysac is; no clue where that other one is from. Ysac came here on magical orders. And haven't I blocked out magic from this place? Why on earth would I be safe with any of their emissaries here?" I sent my piercing glare onto the parts of his face I could see; his squared jaw, his stubbled chin. "Why did you let them into the castle?"
The guard shook his head and shrugged. "Majesty, I'm not acting on your orders, you know this. I'm acting on—"
I growled. "On his orders, of course. You never cease to remind me that though my father, the late King of Acewood, gifted me this castle and this city to rule over, I, the Queen of Club Fields, will never garner your full allegiance." I curled my lip. "You will always belong to Sym." The name burned my tongue. I squinted at the guard as he kept near the door, readying his escape. "How many times have I fired you now?"
To my surprise—and to his later demise, for sure—he grinned at me, his metallic visor covering half of his face so I couldn't see his eyes. "Too many times to count, Majesty."
"Get out, then," I shooed him, "before I do it again and find a way to make it stick."
Once he closed the door behind him, I dropped into my seat, my breaths labored. The cushions that often comforted me felt like tons of stone beneath me.
I'd abandoned Ysac and his unknown companion to their own devices, while I took time alone to think.
Think. Think about what? About how hard I'd worked to stay away from the capital and its vices? About how seriously I'd taken my role here, how the people relied on me and my negotiation skills to keep them fed? Was I alone to think of how I should have gone home after Father's death, if anything to be closer to my sisters? Or how my sisters were part of the reason I didn't want to go back?
It was too much all at once. Too many memories engulfing me, making all my thoughts conflict.
I hated Acewood, but it was mine. Based on most inheritance rights, it should be mine. But I'd been angry with Father for sending us away two years ago, and I forgot about what belonged to me, what I was responsible for. I forfeited it all to those power-hungry magic-wielders.
Then...Father died. I hesitated. I pictured the people grieving, confused, hoping for a new ruler with the same bloodline. They needed me, and somewhere in me I knew I needed them too.
And I had thought of going home, but the mere notion of calling Acewood home made me gag. It wasn't home; it hadn't been for a long time.
And of course, magic made me sick to my stomach. Acewood crawled with it, ruled by those dreadful mages...
