VIII- Rianna

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Eleven years later

This was her last chance. Her last cry for help before she gave up. Rianna stood in the long line of peasants wishing to address the king. He listened to his people's complaints the first Thursday of every month, and it took every ounce of Rianna's willpower and fear to keep her in line. Her blue green eyes flashed around infrequently, looking for someone who might come and drag her away. She let her bright red hair fall over her face, though she knew the hair itself was more likely to give her away than her face. Her hands twisted the fabric of her simple, itchy, maid's dress, and she looked no one in the eye. All in all, she looked like every other commoner coming to petition the king, except for her wild, curly red hair.

The wait was long, and as she came closer to the doors of the throne room, Rianna's heart raced harder. By the time she was at the head of the line, it felt like her chest was going to explode from the force of it hitting her rib cage.

Then, the door opened and the guards looked at her kindly. She stepped in timidly to the big throne room, keeping her gaze on the marble tiled floor. She saw the king up on his dais from her periphery, and the scribe in the corner writing about the day's event barely looked up at her. She curtsied low before the throne, and a calm, deep voice seemed to flow over her.

"Don't be shy, child. What is it you have come to ask of me?"

Rianna forced herself to look him in the eye, but her tongue would not work. She was petrified. He smiled gently at her, but still, it wouldn't work. So, she used plan B, and spoke with her power, the power only one other person knew she had.

My name is Rianna Morden. Am I your daughter?

She watched the king's face morph first into incredulity as he looked at her lips, that hadn't moved. Then, she saw his mind whirl with possibilities. Then she saw it. His realization. His wife had died but the child... He didn't remember what happened to the child. Anger began to build behind those green eyes, shaped much like her own, and she looked away when he glared at his fist, trembling.

"Say that out loud, girl," his voice was hard, angry.

"A-am-am-"

She glanced at him and saw his anger, but did not look into his thoughts. He was angry. He hated her for bringing his dead wife to the front of his mind. She killed her. She knew that, but... She thought maybe he would help her. Now, she knew that not even her father would help.

So, before he could have her thrown in the dungeon, she ran. She turned and ran, using her power to fling the huge double doors open. With tears streaming from her eyes, she dodged guards and knights and peasants. She barely heard King Reyferd Morden yell for her to stop, to wait, and it did nothing to stop her flight. Soon, she was in the servant's halls, dodging trays and maids and cooking assistants and pages.

She made her way to her tiny room, throwing all her worldly possessions in her tiny bag and using a small stolen kitchen knife to cut off all of her hair. Her master would come soon, and he would be pissed that she revealed herself to the king. She changed into stolen boy garments and ran out the door, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she made eye contact with her master at the far end of the hall.

He was enraged, and seeing her in a boy's getup only darkened his expression. Before he could use that voice of his to make her freeze, she turned tail and ran. He wasn't far behind her, but she knew the servants' halls, and he didn't. She took a hidden door into the kitchen and ran through, lucky that it was their busiest time of day. She quietly left via the main entrance and found herself in the large, uninhabited ballroom. She made sure her bare feet made no sound on the cool floor as she made her way to another hidden servants' door. She snuck in and managed her way through the twisted maze out to the river exit, where the castle dumped all of its refuse.

Rianna took the narrow ledge beside the underground, rushing river until she could see daylight ahead. She let herself feel a small sense of happiness, that is, until the ledge gave way beneath her. She slipped and fell into the raging current, helpless to breathe and struggling to find the upwards direction. She fought valiantly but lost her bag and began to suck in water.

With only one option left, she screamed mentally, projecting it as far as she could, hoping someone would hear and save her. A rough hand grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her onto something solid, so she doubled over and began spewing water. Someone rubbed soothing circles onto her back and muttered to her to calm down. When she could finally breathe and understand her surroundings, she realized that she was on a raft with an old lady covered in rags.

"Gave ole Mirtha quite a scare, you did. Thought you were going to drown, she did!"

Ri met her kind brown eyes and sensed only worry for her safety in the lady. She quickly hugged her, the day's events too much for her to handle. Ri broke into sobs, and the old lady gently rocked her, making calming noises.

Ri cried herself to sleep in the old raft lady's arms.

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There's a female protagonist now. Curious to see how she and Finch meet? Keep reading!

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