Fatal Heart

Chapter Four

Pandemonium

Amelia had left the courtroom, fists clenched and questions tugging at her heart. Remnants of blood tears streaked her cheeks and hair clung to her forehead, glued by sweat. His silence was her answer. Tihírīh was Katrice. Katrice was her mother. But why had it been a secret? Why wasn't he sharing details about her sister?
And now Liam would be too frightened to conversate with her.
He's going to be in fear for his life everytime we talk, now. Oh no, what is going to happen to me? Will he send me away? Will the court order my death?! I broke the king's neck!
Amelia had been walking up and down the halls not too far from her chambers, trying to clear her head. The walk alone had worked...until, she began to observe.
Amelia stared at the wall beside her. Reaching her hand out, she smoothed her palm in circles over the bare area.
"You are bare, unlike the other walls. Different." she claimed as she felt a presence and figured it was either a servant or Moonlet. It was neither. Peering around, goosebumps eased up her arms. There wasn't anybody.
Along the walls hung portraits of her, Liam, and Leo Liam's younger brother. Most of the portraits were of her, but the others that filled the gaps were scenic paintings related to Dawn. A time when leaves darkened and fell.
"Hello?" she called out to the darkness with uncertainty. The darkness that had seemingly begun to enclose her. Retiring, Amelia's back met the wall.
A soothing voice with a melodic tone suddenly sounded in her ear. "Turn around," it coaxed.
In doing so, Amelia found herself gasping. A picture had suddenly begun to materialize on the wall beside her. A massive picture embroidered with a pure gold lining and entitled-
Our Forever Queen of Arcean And Flancienst Our Queen of Unity: Queen Katrice
"Mom," Amelia whined, her voice cracking as she placed her hand on the picture. Directly above Katrice's heart is where lied Amelia's trembling hand and she quickly withdrew it before turning her back to the picture and crashing to the floor on her knees. "Mom!" she cried aloud, throwing her head back to stop the tears that were drowning her. A lump formed in her constricting throat. "Mommy." she whimpered.
Katrice wore the same holy-white as she had at sixteen, but this dress was far more elegant and ruffles began flaring just after exaggerating her hips. There were no sleeves, but the white-henna that ran up and down her arms and all across her chest was sufficient. Her dreads were pulled up and out of her face in a bun bejeweled with diamonds and gold. Her head was held high, her large, beautiful white-painted lips parted. And her hazel eyes, they were the eyes that seemed to follow you from every angle.
Her head rolling off the guillotine ruthlessly replayed on the front lines of Amelia's mind. "No!!"
Why did he do this to you?
Amelia felt her stomach churn like spoiled milk. There was too much on her mind. She didn't need any distractions. Liam was only a minor bump in the road to uncovering the secrets that seemed to uncover themselves. The secrets that screamed out at her. This-Damion-was a black hole in a one-way spacecraft route to the lands on the opposite side.
"Peace?" Amelia scoffed to herself, "It was fun while it lasted." Footsteps began to ring through her ears and she lowered her chin that had been tipped toward the ceiling. They grew closer. And closer. And closer. The anticipation growing until Amelia felt her heart would just completely topple over in her chest.
'Do not fail me now, heart', she secretly urged.
But, this time she didn't need to. She wanted it to just jump from the windows of her ribcage as it stepped from the darkness. The truest of all beasts and in his natural form. Damion.
Amelia stared at him for what seemed decades. She'd hoped he'd make the first move of attempting speech, just so she could cut him off, before giving a sarcastic remark, and silently returning to her chambers. Nothing ever apparently went the way she'd hoped.
"Did you come here just to gawk at me? If so you should take a picture. It will last longer." Disrespect infiltrated Amelia's tone more than she had hoped. Even the sarcasm was drowned out. Damion gave a lecherous grin, "Can I choose the position and angle?"
Amelia's brow furrowed with disgust and her eyes narrowed. He threw his hands up in defense. "Just kidding. Wouldn't want you to throw me down a flight of stairs."
Amelia slammed her palms against the lavender carpet floor, using them as a force to push herself up and begun that weird half-run-half-jog down the hall. Damion cast his hands up as if he were being interrogated and took a step for her. "Wait, please-I was just kidding." he pleaded, a hand partially outstretched toward her.
This stopped Amelia mid-run in her tracks that hadn't strayed too far from where he stood now. She peered just barely over her shoulder, her eyes low. "What do you want?"
A sound emanated from the back of Damion's throat and he furrowed his brow, as if the answer was so obvious. "To talk."
***
The two sat side by side just beneath the painting of Katrice. Damion with his back straight against the wall, legs folded like a pretzel. N.Etavi style. Meanwhile, Amelia sat with her back hunched and knees platted against her crossed arms. I-really-did-not-want-to-talk-but-since-you-insisted style. She also sat a good distance of around two feet from Damion. "You do know 'talking' is an activity needing to consist of more than one person right?" he began, breaking the awkward silence that had grown over them as thick as fog. Amelia glared at him from the corner of her eye.
She began to talk to herself in her head. I can tell him those jokes about how we talked to ourself for entertainment a couple of forteils ago because we had no friends. That would prove that it didn't need to consist of more than one.
Umm... I don't think you fully comprehend what a joke is.
I know.
Just say something before he gets discouraged and leaves us to those dark times again. We need more friends.
"You are right." Amelia agreed, turning to meet his wide-eyed expression with her own, "What do you want to talk about?"
Damion seemed perplexed, maybe a hint startled because he thought about the question for a long while before clearing his throat. "First off, I'd like to apologize." Amelia's expression softened and her folded arms loosened.
Did I here him correctly?
Shhh!! I'm trying to listen!
"When we first met," he continued, "It was apparent we didn't like each other."
"What do you mean? We met not too many hours ago. And we still do not like each other." She eyed him with annoyance.
Damion chuckled silently before shaking his head. "Are you sure I am the first guy you've talked to? You're pretty good at flirting."
Flirting?? What is that? Is it something bad?
Amelia panicked, then shook off the question with a sniffle. "I do not like the way you slur your words. Speak properly or not at all."
"Jeesh. It was just a compliment, princess. Chill. Anyways..."
He returned his gaze to Amelia. "You know what I mean. I know you still may not like me, but what you did back there," he raised his arm and jammed his thumb over his shoulder to point down the hall to show emphasize, "it really raised my respect for you."
Highlights of the incident flashed across the back of Amelia's mind. The yanking of the woman's hair. The intimidating glare she'd given. The shaking her father gave her caused the memories to blur and Amelia's eyes fell from Damion's as she blinked them completely away. But even with the visuals gone she could still remember his body flying. She could here his bones cracking. It sent a chill down her spine and goosebumps plagued.
"Something wrong?" Damion insisted. Yes, everything.
Amelia repositioned, crossing her legs and straightening her back. "Your respect for me...heightened? Why? Is that not your barer?" Amelia stressed, her tone losing all its power. Damion's eyes glistened in the light of the Luna that peered in. It was getting later by how close she was in comparison to the other planets. "Well, to answer your last question-yes. Hearth is my mother."
Hearth? Who in their right mind-
"And, to answer the others-yes. My respect for you skyrocketed. Look, it's not like I enjoy watching my mother almost get the snot beat out of her, because that's sick. No-one-in-their-right-mind kind of sick."
Yeah, like her name.
"But, because whatever buttons she pushed I'm glad you stood up to stop her. You didn't just stand for it and let her take advantage of you. She must have toyed with something you felt strongly about and I respect how you stopped her games. I also take pleasure watching people fight for what they believe is right. Even if it's wrong." He shrugged out the last sentence as if he knew Amelia was judging him and was brushing it off. She understood him, though, and was glad he understood her.
Registering his words, a single part was stuck on replay in her mind.
"She must have toyed with something you felt strongly about."
Oh, he thinks he's smart now? I bet he quoted from at least thirteen beings in that speech of his.
Amelia cleared her throat and tried to pull off a smile. A practiced smile. An earnest I'm-hurt-but-refuse-to-let-it-show smile. "She did." she finally claimed.
"Your family? Your mother and sister."
"Yes..." Amelia breathed. "I can not remember them and he is not trying to help me."
"Why is that?" Damion's eyes seemed to glint in the natural hall lights. Amelia's found his and for once the weight of all the shadows was lifted and her words didn't feel so heavy as she spoke. "That is what I am trying to figue out."
The silence grew too loud as Damion contemplated his next response. How was he going to reply to that? This was definitely the right time for a joke.
"We are to be wed, I guess." The line was so straight-forward and her tone so nonchalant that Damion burst into laughter. He laughed and not just a usual soft chuckle. Damion laughed head thrown back, chest rumbling, and stomach clenching.
Amelia watched with confusion, baffled that her sentence could cause such a reaction. He was still unable to respond when she began speaking, again.
"We ared to be wed, I guess, so you should know this now." Amelia pointed at the picture above them for emphasis. "This is my mother. The woman I fight with everyone so much about to defend." Damion didn't even bother to look, instead his eyes grew soft. Was this sympathy?
"She died when I was young, all I remember is me running. And I remember witnessing the entire thing. I did not mean to push my father. I love him, dearly. But, there is this rage. This rage that can not be stopped. It takes control a lot. Most of the time in silence but I feel it grow louder and stronger everytime I mention them.
"Katrice..."
Ninetili.
And suddenly, he seemed like a whole new being. Not the boy Amelia had first met in the courtroom, but a living, breathing, well-hearted being with feelings, with a heart.
Speaking of hearts, Amelia was sure her's skipped a beat or two as she was suddenly welcomed into one of the warmest embraces. Arms wrapped securely around her and pressing her body against his, Damion's grip sent chills up every limb Amelia could still hope blood circulated through. Her hands trembled as they, along with her forearms, were squished together between her and Damion's chests. When had he even moved? Was she the one who moved?
Questions arose in her head and one attempted to force itself up her throat. She shoved it back down as Damion withdrew, their eyes meeting, again. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice not even the same as before. He held her arms firmly and as they gazed into each other.
"Everyone will know. Know why he hides me away."
"No they won't. I will silence them all." He held up his watch. "With the power of this I could tell them the luna was the helio and they would believe me."
"Did I kill him?" the question held no emotion, sometimes a symptom of his dilemma. "No! Of course not." he reassured. "He is alive and well. He actually did not seem that surprised."
"He expected me to go berserk and knock him on his head?"
Amelia observed his clothes tighten on his flexed muscles and how when he laughed it just sent her to a different place. A place without anguish or pain. A place with only happily ever afters.
As his tensed muscles finally relaxed, he continued. "I'm glad you're not completely gloomy and distant like others who have witnessed a parent's death." he accused, not paying attention to Amelia's expression change.
If only that was true. Does he not know that he is one of four that I talk to?
Had he not seen how miserable she looked seated beneath her mother's picture? If only he knew.
Glancing between the picture and Amelia, a grin split Damion's face. "You know, you look just like her?"
Already two nunads ahead of you.
Amelia nodded, remembering the conversation she had held with Adamantine about their noses. A warm grin grew, then she shook her head. "I am at a loss. How do we look alike?" Amelia inquired attentively. She wanted to see if Damion was one who meant what he said. Of course she knew they looked nearly identical. She'd been studying the woman for years. But she was testing his honesty.
His honesty. That would make for a great king and a worthy husband.
Amelia nearly gasped at her own thoughts, but then downed it with a shot of responsibility. It was time to just accept him. Accept her fate. Denying it wouldn't stop her father's big decision to coronate Damion, just never allow her to find peace, which was something she was now dedicated to finding.
"Well, for starters," he eyed Amelia up and down, "your not-quite-there clothing." Amelia punched him in the arm, holding nothing back. She hastily withdrew, gripping the hand as she tried to muffle her whimpers. Damion broke out into another chest rumbling laugh.
Why did I just punch him?! That was not ladylike!
That night, laughter rang throughout the halls for what seemed like hours. Moonlet had even joined the two, sitting to where she only lied beside Amelia. Usual fwolx behavior. Stick to who you are most familiar. Not only did the two talk about the similarities of Amelia and her mother, but her similarities with beings of Damion's family.
"Your blood may be similar to my mother, but I bet she does not have her own seven books written about her and her very own planet. That she also ran by herself." Amelia chimed, bragging about her mother with all her heart and soul. "You keep jibing about how much better your barer is than my blood and I'll bring her here to show you why they can't write books about her." This peeked Amelia's interest and she scooted forward on her knees before stopping just a breathe from Damion. Penetrating his eyes with her own, she gave a malevolent grin.
I bet she can not even do half the stuff mother could.
"What does she do anyways? What are her abilities?" Damion rubbed the back of his neck before giving a nervous chuckle. "Well let's just say if there was ever a god of death-it'd be her."
***
Blades slicing through the air at the speed of light whistled through the ears of those approaching and the screeching of blades clashing filled the room. Snow-white hair drifted and danced gracefully to Mother Nature's breath. Five had already enclosed her. Eight were on their way. Thick legs and arms, yet slender bodies and shoulders. They were all equipped with longswords and no chance of surviving.
She sliced her blade straight through the first's chest before withdrawing and khooking an immediate left until it completely severed a leg. Death.
Not letting her blade slow, she felt a hovering enemy. There was no time. She dodged not a second too late to have his blade just miss her thigh. A haste and unseen elbow straight to the pharynx sent him falling back, his abdomen open. With her free left, she cast a quick dagger to the area. The enemy doubled over just in time for his inner throat to be ripped open with her blade. Death.
Three left now. One fell back hoping the other two could handle. Big mistake. She swerved her body halfway around to face the two yet at the same time avoid the rain of daggers that had been cast at her from the approaching eight. One hand wielded a longsword and the other a dagger with ragged edges. Her signature dagger. And just as she swerved out of the way she dropped to one knee. Turning with one leg out she caught one's leg, the other jumped as if it were a game of hopscotch. It took not a second to jump up there with him. Coming down together, and as if the world slowed just to watch, she slashed her blade through his abdomen. His guts spilling out like a bucket of water onto the charred floor. Death.
The one whose foot she caught was now on the ground, scrambling backwards. Feet slipping from the surrounding blood, he struggled to continue his backpedaling. She showed no sign of mercy as she leapt to pounce on him. Legs crouched like an animal, no sooner than she'd landed began ripping her dagger repeatedly through his throat with her right, while she clasped her left over his mouth to suppress the screams. His body fell limp, his hands that had been pushing against her chest to free himself fell as well. Death.
She lifted her head to acknowledge the last of the five, the other eight surrounding the two in a circle but all bearing uncertainty to who should strike first. She loved this game. This game of fear. The prize of death. Some may have wondered why. Why she was like this. Why she enjoyed killing and was nearly the best at it. There was one answer and one answer only. She was Anassassin Bloodrose, daughter of Margolienes: The queen of Mordeath, land of the demons-mutants included.
Anassassin chuckled to herself, before calling out with a tone so intimidating it could make a Zoidinoid marine piss himself. "Who's first?" The one remaining from the previous five looked down at her team of corpses that littered the floor. She knew she'd soon join them. Pale skin with blonde hair shaved low to her scalp, she could've passed for a guy if Anassassin hadn't previously knocked her preserver off to reveal a feminine enough face that was grazed with endless freckles. Her chest was hopeless. That would've been a missed sign for anybody. The girl's fingers trembled around the hilt of her blade. Her knees were bent, shoulders length apart yet they buckled. This was pathetic. Anassassin could hear her panting, quick breathes from nearly five feet away. She sighed, "I'll come back to my prey later." She lunged.
***
Amelia drew back, eyes wide and lips curled in to form a thin line.
God of death?! Oh, great. He is related to a psychopath. I hope it does not run in the blood.
***
Anassassin swiftly tucked her dagger into its metallic sheath on her thin waist. The long sword dripping blood like a leaky faucet as she moved at the speed of light through the room, head drastically before body and arms sprawled to the sides. Loose but adamant. She started for the prey, blade ready and just as thirsty for blood as any of them. Anassassin came to a holt just before she could thrust the blade into the girls trachea. The blonde nearly passed out as the blade stopped just a centimeter from her death.
"Element of surprise. Watch and learn."
Anassassin hastily turned to the eight that had begun to huddle together in an even smaller circle. Huge mistake. On swift winds the blade sliced, but unlike before, the sound of blades clashing didn't fill the air. Instead, the wave of squirting blood as Anassassin ran by with her blade as quick as a flash. Making a crescent-shaped swooning motion she sliced through the abdomen of those that dared to try to trap her. Bodies dropped in unison. Death plus seven. Then, there were two. "Ah, which one to rid first," Anassasin toyed as she straightened her posture just to completely double over backwards. Her spine cracked in an uneasing melody until her head grazed the floor. She was then lifted as if an exorcism had begun. The blonde dropped her weapon and began to cry. Fear had straddled her, making her weak. She was useless if she wouldn't fight.
Anassasin split a psychotic, full-toothed grin as she brought her back up as quick as a flash and lifted her leg. Batter up. She first held the weapon back, high, until her leg came down and her entire body doubled over to thrust the dagger forward.
***
Damion glanced at her lips and quirked a brow. "What a strange girl." Amelia jolted in fear as she felt sudden movement of Moonlet beside her. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing."
"So, when will I be able to meet this blood relation of yours?"
***
There was a hiccup to the crying, a choke, and then the thud of her body dropping. Death.
It had hit home, ripping straight through to the trachea. Anassassin's crazed with hunger eyes glinted from the single beacon of light that shined bright amongst the massacre.
She unsheathed her longsword. Eyeing the last survivor from over her shoulder, she hid a smirk that had begun to split her face. She turned. Lunge. Death.
***
"Soon enough." Damion smirked, shyly.
Amelia smiled, giddy with triumph as if she had won an argument. Damion returned her expression, his heart being tugged by the girl who sat before him. Amelia looked to the ceiling. The hall lights had already begun to illuminate the dark that came to dominate each floor, allowing their foreheads to glisten in its dominating glow.
It was already ending. Maybe I should visit father, apologize.
Amelia stood and Moonlet, as always, was quick to her side. Damion's eyes shimmered with curiosity.
"I believe it is time I retire." She turned to leave, then stopped. "Why me?" She turned back to him.
He smirks. "Be more specific, princess. " She stepped to him and he stood. "You know what I mean. Why did you stop them from restraining me? Why are you here talking to me right now as if I hadn't almost killed my own blood?"
His eyes reflected her questions. "Why did you choose me?" He shrugged. "It's not like I had much of a choice." Her lips parted in defense, she was offended. But what could she expect? He was-
"We have something in common." Her heart skipped a beat. "And someone."
Their eyes stayed glued to one-another, yet something seemed to change behind Damion's.
"Look away!" urged a voice in her head. Her eyes fell and she regained control of her clouded thoughts. "Who?" There was silence. "Tell me!" she ordered.
But when she looked up, he was gone. Her eyes cautiously dashed around.
Where did he go? What or who do we have in common?
A name sparked to life in the back of her head like a bolt of lightning.
Ninetili.
***
Adamantine bowed her head, as she was supposed to do, handing Amelia a towelette to dry her tears. "Welcome back, my lady. His majesty has summoned you and our guests to a private dinner." Amelia felt her head spin. She didn't know whether it was from crying or from the fear of facing him. She didn't know whether to be happy or sad. Mad or distraught. He gave her too many emotions. Disturbed her mailroom of a mind that was always disturbed by 'this' if it wasn't 'that'.
Amelia followed her adamantine into the preparationroom. "I assume our guests will be staying?"
"Yes, my lady."
After twenty minutes of having her skin nearly scrubbed and bleached from her bones, Amelia dreaded the incense and powder that was applied almost immediately after she stepped from the shower. They shampooed her hair, rinsed, applied glistening conditioner, blew it out, straightened, and finally curled it. They garbed her in layers of sky-blue ruffles, splattered with raindrops of gold. The silk and sheer lace that hugged from her cleavage to the end of her ribs like hair-gel was white, akin to the fluffy clouds that no longer painted the sky on her live display that filled the wall.
She was finally done.
Thank you, God!
Amelia spread her arms wide to collapse on her bed, but no sooner than she did so Adamantine grabbed her wrist and twirled Amelia back to face her.
The make-up artists who had done Amelia's face scowled her from the preparationroom, one even calling out as Adamantine and another adamantine lead Amelia to the guest quarter dining hall.
"Do not let her smudge our masterpiece!"
On the way to the dining room, Amelia and the adamantines walked in a pattern. Adamantine, Amelia, and Impenetrable. Impenetrable had been newly assigned since the last adamantine locked Amelia in her room after finding her wandering around past lockdown.
Now, this adamantine-a genetically modified species of cyborg, replica, and savage all in one-was slightly nicer. Lenient? Not at all. But, nicer. Although adamantines were programmed to be so brutal and ruthless that they were even exiled from some planets, the ones living without a master and on free will, the ones without that burden, were assigned a being. A single being, to be the one that it cherished, loved, and protected no matter the consequences. Most were inherited, either from a close relative in the line of blood, or from a direct parent who was near to death. In Amelia's case, Impenetrable was a replica of Adamantine, sharing her brunette hair, hazel eyes, and even face: so she was inherited because Impenetrable was born from profit of Adamantine's existence. However, though Impenetrable did share many traits with Adamantine, personality wise she did not. While Adamantine had the patience of a mother of three, Impenetrable had no patience at all. No chill.
"You are not to do that, again. Is that understood?" Impenetrable called out from behind Amelia, holding up the ruffles that would otherwise drape behind Amelia on the floor and most likely get caught beneath her foot. "Yes, miss Pene. My apologies."
Her mind couldn't focus on contemplating a witting retort. She was focused on the situation. Liam was out of the medical urgency and this was the first time they would be talking since the incident. So why were their guests going to be there?
She felt sweat collect at her brow and she suddenly had the biggest revelation of her life.
"Moonlet!" it was an exclamation no louder than a whisper. She begun to think about the worst. Hearth probably ordered her to be treated like a beast and had Hazard throw her outside. He was the only one strong enough to handle Moonelt. Him and Warning.
After a while, Adamantine glanced over her shoulder to inspect Amelia's worried expression.
"Amelia, after dinner I will look for our friend. Just be careful not to lose her again. Okay?"
Impenetrable rolled her eyes. How could someone, who shared such a sweet face with someone Amelia loved be so cruel?
They reached the petite and narrow dining hall of the King's quaters. Another set of grande double-doors.
"Deep breath." Ada urged with a quick smile. "And in we go."
Four midnight-blue walls with white paisley designs shrunk around hejr. Twelve chairs outlined a long, mohogany table with a plated gold base and gold lined edges.
And at the head of this table, Liam with not a scratch on him. Without warning, without proper greeting Amelia doubled over in a perfect bow. Her hands stiff at her sides. "My king! Father. I apologize with utmost sincerity."
In these twelve seats came to sit Liam, Hearth, Amelia, and Damion. Not to mention the king's two adamantines-Hazard and Warning;replica males;Amelia's two adamantines-Adamantine and Impenetrable, replica females;and Hearth and Damion's six guards. Four of the six guards sat at the table while the other two stood side by side on the far walls, away from the table.
Hazard sat Liam's left, Warning to his right. Amelia mirrored him exactly with her adamantines. The seats between Hazard and Impenetrable sat a guard, Hearth, and then another guard. On the opposite side of the table sat another guard, Damion, and then finally, yet again, another guard. Warning and Adamantine sandwiched them in.
"'Guards...?" Amelia whispered to herself. Royals were naturally gifted with adamantines or savages. How could they be so powerful with a force so meek?
Who are these people?
The sound of Hearth's voice of a thousand snakes reverberating through Amelia's ears almost made her drop her fork full of shimmering gloat fish. "Would you care to join us, Amelia?"
Amelia's eyes widened at the sound and she hastily shut her cabinet of displeasing and eerie thoughts. Maybe father would ignore her, but that would not stop her from conversating with his shiny new toy. No matter how much displeasure she brought.
"Yes." she said, answering Hearth's questions blindly. "Yes, I would."
Hearth's eyes weren't exactly on Amelia as she said this but as Amelia slowly nodded, her eyes were on her in less than a second.
"So you do?" Damion suddenly inquired, his eyebrows hinting towards the topic of the conversation that Amelia hadn't really payed attention to.
Oh, father God, what were they talking about?!
Amelia was becoming frustrated and glancing over at Damion she noticed his seat to be closer. Much. Closer. Instead of Adamantine being to the left of her, Damion now sat beside her, his plate nearly touching hers. She shook her head frantically. "Excuse me, I sincerely apologize but I have a minor headache. Would you mind repeating your last couple of sentences so that I may not feel so lost. It is difficult to concentrate with..." she trailed off, glancing at Damion before her eyes met Hearth's, then her father's empty eyes. Could he even see her? Goosebumps eased up her arms.
Something isn't right.
"Of course, my dear." Hearth began. Her voice dripped honey. Too much honey.
"Your father was wondering about Flancienst's future. You know?-His successor-the next king-your husband. Do you see now, why we welcome you to this conversation?"
I see you have learned to watch your tongue around me. Would not want a round two of earlier this afternoon now would we?
Amelia's eyes widened and her mouth gaped at the thoughts that ran through her head.
Why am I thinking this way?
She dipped her head. Not knowing how to address the woman before. Not knowing what rank she held. Amelia lowered her fork, losing her appetite. "So, what was the question?"
Hearth cleared her throat before she locked eyes with Liam. "On the seventh of Luna, next nunad, Damion and you will be the first generation to unite the second kingdom of Flancienstia with Mordeath." Amelia's heart caught in her throat and she felt an abruptly upcoming argument between her and her stomach. She looked to Damion who had his eyes fixated on his lap, he quickly met her gaze and they locked eyes. Hearth continued, "This gives you four forteils until then-"
Her hand tightly grasped Liam's. So tight Amelia could see the flesh whiten. "Stop it! You are hurting him!" she wished to scream. She would like to scream much more but instead her eyes water and lower to her lap.
Was this really how it was? Princesses were only used as pawns to unite kingdoms? Did they truly never accomplish anything on their own?
No! That is not true. Tihír-Mother was an empress. A royal empress! How am I to live up that if I am burdened with a man I do not love?
"Father, I need more time!" Amelia blurted, immediately regretting it after. Her father's eyes were glossy. They might as well have been dead. He did not even blink.
"Father!" Amelia called, losing control of herself once more. It was as if she was a bystander in her own body, again. The words flowed and emotions flooded. When did such a rebellious shackle start to weigh her down?
"Father! Are you even listening? I feel as though you never even hear me anymore! What happened to forever? What happened to 'I promise to love you'? Because I definitely do not feel loved right now!"
She slammed her balled fists on the table and just then cracks splintered through the space between all the plates and silverware.
She pulled her hands up reluctantly, panting. Hearth slammed her own fists down. "I am fed up with your tempertantrums. These stop now."
She stood and began to make her way over to Amelia. "Because like it or not-" She sandwhiched Amelia's chin between her hand. "-you will marry my son. And your throne will be mine."