The Prophecy in the Forest

Chapter Eight: Don't Call Me Princess

Keena was surprised by how well she slept that night. She had long suspected that when the day came that she told the truth about who she was, she would not have a very restful sleep that evening. 

Turns out she was wrong. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so well.

"Hey," Keena shouted to Kallie. "Did you and Raf take turns last night watching over us? Nobody ever woke me up for my turn."

"You needed the rest," Raf spoke from behind her. "A lot happened."

"I still could have helped," Keena weakly protested.

Raf just laughed and shook his gold curls. "Don't argue, princess, just help us now."

Keena blushed bright pink. "Don't call me princess!" She hissed, fists balled at her sides. Raf smirked.

"Just trying to address you properly," He flashed his palms. "You let me know if you change your mind."

What the fuck? Why would I change my mind? Keena shook her head, watching him walk toward Kallie, who was plucking berries off a bush. They conferred on whether they were edible and seemed confident that they were.

Rafael was acting... Flirty? Was that the word? Keena usually could tell when someone was flirting with her. But Rafael hadn't been so bold when they first met. She wasn't even sure if he found her beautiful or not.

Not that it mattered. She would still be lovely whether he thought so or not. And besides, they wouldn't make sense as a couple. He was a prince and she was a...

Princess. Enchantress. A woman who loved to be free. In love with the life she had built from the ground up for herself. Love had the power to destroy those things, she knew.

Relax, you don't love him. You just met him a few days ago. Keena shook off her inner monologue and strode over to Kallie and Raf.

"Anything I can help with?" She asked, looking between the two.

"You can magick up a coffee press and some coffee," Raf grumbled sarcastically.

Keena tilted her head, smiling. And then she snapped her fingers. A coffee press and a bag of ground coffee appeared at his feet. Keena shook out her hand, which was stinging. Magick hurt sometimes, but not normally this intensely. It must just be her stress.

"You okay?" Kallie asked, staring at Keena's hand.

"Fine. I think I'm just tired, my magic doesn't hurt like that usually." Keena crossed her arms over her chest. "Nonetheless, we have our coffee. Anything else you need from me?"

"Well, shit, if you can magick up that..." Raf grinned. "Just messing with you. If you can make the coffee that would be great."

Keena rolled her eyes. Why jokes all of a sudden? Was he playing some joke on her? She clutched her coffee supplies to her chest, walking back over to the fire. She began boiling some water over the flames.

She did feel more tired than usual. Could it have been the trauma of seeing Lucian back at the palace? Maybe. It could also be the blights, slowly sucking away at her magick.

Keena busied herself with the coffee making, vowing to stop being so anxious. She didn't need anxiety, she needed logic. She needed clarity.

It occurred to her yesterday afternoon that she was in deep trouble. Between the prophecy, the blights, and Lucian, she was sure death was imminent. It was oddly peaceful because at least she knew where she stood. She was fucked no matter what she did, so she may as well stay on the path.