♕ A Crown of Lies ♕ (#Wattys2018)

Chapter 4: Ghost of the Past

Elora stood frozen. Her heart beat fast in her chest and all she could think of in that one moment were the words the Seer had told her.

Your friends might not call the Black Guard to your door, but others surely will.

Once the dust had settled, a tall, slender man walked into the opening that was created. His hands were tucked nonchalantly into his pockets as if he was walking onto a feast. His black uniform and crimson cloak were made of the finest fabric, but Elora's gaze was stuck on the shining, silver sigil of a raven. The sigil of the Royal House of Aldrin--the sigil of the Black Guard.

The man's green eyes were on her father within seconds, taking him in with dark amusement. The other two men flanked him, but kept their eyes straight ahead, an absent glance reflecting in their orbs.

"Kay, what a pleasure it is to see you again," the tall man purred. He ran a hand through his thick, black hair and looked around the room. His gaze eventually rested on Elora and quickly shot back to her father. A cunning smile soon curled the man's lips. He would have been handsome if the scars of battle hadn't marked his face. "Though I must say, I preferred you dead."

"Likewise," her father hissed at the man. He reached his arm out for Elora as well as Owen--a silent order to get behind him.

"Come on, Kay, that's no way to treat a guest, is it? Have you lost your manners after all these years?"

"How did you find us?" her father asked through clenched teeth.

"Well, it wasn't easy, I'll give you that," the man continued to smile, pacing through the room just before them. "We've been to many cities and villages these past twenty years, but until today there was no trace of the princess. We wouldn't have found her at all had that circus Seer not sent word to her friends about the princess. She must have thought she was safe," he explained, sighing loudly. "It's a shame really, there aren't many Seers left... But I guess she wasn't a very good one if she didn't See what was coming."

It wasn't until then that Elora noticed the stained bag in one of the other men's hands and the smell that slowly filled her nostrils--a smell she knew all too well. The bag reeked. Reeked of blood and death.

With a flick of the wrist, the man opened the bag and emptied its contents on the floor of the farmhouse. In a blur or black and grey and red, a head rolled onto the weathered wood, stopping just before Elora's feet. Wide, clear eyes stared up at her, a mouth gaping in a scream cut short. Elora could feel her stomach turn as she realized who she was looking at. It was the woman from the circus.

It was the Seer that had told her to run.

If only she would have listened.

She could feel Owen pull her away from the blank eyes staring back at her. His arm hands wrapped around her protectively and she could feel his heart beat rapidly in his chest as held her tightly in his arms. His hot breath caressed the back of her head, heating her whole body. Together they watched and listened in silent anticipation.

"The witch wouldn't tell us anything," the man continued as if nothing had changed--as if one of his men hadn't thrown the head of a dead woman at their feet, "but one of the others was more than willing to talk when we offered him some gold and promised not to cut his children's tongues out."

"You haven't changed, Horan," was all her father said. "I hope betraying your family was worth whatever Darius gave you."

"Neither have you, it seems, Captain. My family were all arrogant bastards, who didn't care about anyone or anything but themselves. So, yes, watching the Wizard King break their weak minds was worth it," he said, the same cunning smile curling his lips. Behind it, darkness glowed in his eyes. It was clear he enjoyed the game he was playing. Like a cat taunting a mouse before eating it. "How about you?" Horan said. "How does it feel to know you failed your king?"