The uncontrollable power lurking beneath Princess Alethia's skin can either be the savior of the Four Kingdoms or its destruction.
Princess Alethia was raised on three principles: (1) Mercy is for the weak, (2) Emotions are an unwanted distraction...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The above image is how I envisioned Roxana looking :)
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The faces of her victims blurred together as they cut across her breast, arms, and stomach. Alethia jerked against the leather straps binding her to the same metal chair where her previous victims perished. Tears fell down her face as she apologized over and over again.
"Alethia, wake up," A small voice drifted into Alethia's head as the faces of her victims began the long process of tormenting her.
An endless dream, one that began in her sleep and continued after she woke.
She felt her body shaking, and she tumbled onto the cold ground of her chambers. A groan escaped her mouth as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Strands of hair clung to her sweaty brow as she looked for the reason why she was pushed out of bed.
Roxana puffed out her full rosy cheeks while placing a hand on her hip. "I want to show you something."
Gripping the side of the bed with white-knuckled fingers, Alethia rose slowly to her feet and waited for her heart to slow down to a normal rate before responding. "What is it, Roxy?"
Her little sister pushed a figure into her face, and Alethia drew back to study it. A hardened mud doll with two small dots for eyes stared back at her. "Oh, it's nice."
"That's all you have to say?" Roxana sniffed and yanked the doll back close to her chest. "Mother says my magic control is getting better every day."
Alethia's lips pressed tightly together at the mention of her sister's magic and her mother's approval. An approval that her heart still yearned for despite the punishments her mother inflicted. It was a feeling she endured every day. It was impossible to please her mother, even when you did everything that she asked. It was never enough.
"That's good, Roxy." Alethia offered the barest of a smile and stepped around her sister to go into the bathing chambers.
After a quick wash and carefully dressing over her wounds into the standard black leather trousers and tight-fitting shirt, she went back into her room to find her sister sitting on top of her tangled white sheets.
"So, you had another bad dream, didn't you?" Roxana brushed a black curl out of her round face. Alethia looked away and began wrapping the belt that held her sword and assortment of daggers around her waist. "I get them too. It helps to talk about it. If you want."
"I don't," Alethia replied, her tone flat. "You should mind who you speak to of such things."
Roxana lifted her stubborn chin in defiance. Even at thirteen years old, her sister was a force to be reckoned with. Alethia sighed. She opened her mouth to respond when a knock from the door interrupted.
"Enter," Alethia said loudly, grasping a piece of warm bread from the tray on her table. As she took a bite, Rebecca entered and bowed at the waist.
