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...
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His white milky eyes stared into hers as he gripped her neck. Clumps of soil hit the ground as they fell from the holes in his dusty grey face. Hands tightened painfully around her throat; her lungs burned from lack of oxygen while black dots flickered across her vision.
Gasping, Sabrina's eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through the small window in front of the bed, blinding her momentarily. She looked around the inn as her hand instinctively touched her exposed neck. At the familiar surroundings, her heart rate slowed and stale air filled her lungs. Despite the comforting sight, Sabrina couldn't shake the feeling of dread spreading throughout her body.
Something was wrong.
Sabrina flipped the rough wool blanket off her sweaty body and sighed. She shook her head and pushed her short, curly black hair out of her face. It was just a dream. That was all.
But that wasn't enough to shake the awful feeling in her core.
A shiver went down her spine as she recalled the dream: the extravagant room, the grim feeling, and the dead body. There was only one room that could bring such terror and fear into her body. And only one person could control dead bodies using earth magic. Sabrina stood up quickly, head rushing from the suddenness.
It couldn't be true.
She hurriedly dressed in her riding gear, consisting of dark green ankle-length trousers belted at the waist and a fitted long sleeve green shirt. Throwing a brown fur vest over it followed by a green cloak, Sabrina strapped a long dagger to her belt and slipped out of the room. She walked briskly down the stairs to the dining area of the inn, eyes searching for her companion.
In the corner of the sunlit room, at a table near the empty fireplace sat a man with dark grey hair pushed back away from his forehead. Sabrina made her way over to him, sliding around the tables and ignoring the curious glances of the men as they drank from their wooden tankards. She dropped into the seat in front of him, yanking up the hood of her cloak.
"There's something wrong, Galen." Her lips pressed together tightly.
Galen pulled on his thick dark grey beard, eyes darting around their surroundings. The chatter of the men was loud, despite the early morning and tankards were filled high. He looked down at the porridge in his wooden bowl before pushing it towards Sabrina, waving a hand to indicate she should eat.
"There's been rumors," Galen's deep voice rumbled as he leaned towards her. Sabrina grasped a piece of bread from the small tray between them, dipping it into the substance that looked more like mud than porridge. "Liliana is planning something."
Sabrina's golden eyes narrowed. "Tell me what you've heard."
"A few servants escaped the Night Castle and came here for refuge." Galen leaned back as the innkeeper came to the table and inquired about their desire for refreshments. After declining, Galen waited for him to leave. "They say Liliana has been torturing Alethia and Roxana. Even killed a young servant girl for no apparent reason."
