Chapter 12 Stripped of Petals
As we traveled through Moir Forest, the atmosphere felt far less intimidating when surrounded by knights. Getting attacked by the bear almost felt like another nightmare.
“Did ya know?” Erik asked.
“Um, pardon?”
“I asked if you knew the legends behind Moir Forest.”
“Legends…?”
“Yeah, about this forest being haunted. They say that if you see eerie lights in the shadows, then ghosts are coming to get you—” He reached back and tickled my thigh. “And steal your soul!”
I jumped and squealed, clinging to his back. “S—stop that!” I snapped, smacking his hand away.
“Leave her alone, Erik! You’re scaring her,” Cedric growled. “And stop spreading ridiculous lies! There are no ghosts or ‘eerie lights’ out here. The legend says that Moir is witch territory and that their coven is deep in the forest.”
“Pfft!” Erik snorted. “Witches? How is that more ridiculous than what I said??”
As the brothers started arguing again, I stared into the forest’s darkness. The suffocating, nerve-tickling sensation from earlier was gone, but their words left a rock of doom sinking deeper in my stomach.
Souls… Was that how this happened to me? Is this how she did it? Witchcraft?
Goosebumps traveled up my arms. Witchcraft was forbidden—all witches got executed.
Is… Robin a witch? Why would she want my body??
My throat grew dry, and I swallowed. I had almost forgotten who I was. What I was. Who my parents are.
Could she be after my parents??
“U—uh.” My voice cracked as I cleared it. “How much farther to Embercrest?”
“Oh,” Erik hesitated. “Sorry, I didn’t think I scared you that badly.”
“It’s not that. I just need to get there ASAP,” I urged.
“We’re halfway there,” Cedric said, and frowned. “Enjoy the fresh air while you can, My Lady.”
“Robin,” Erik chimed.
“She knows what I meant,” Cedric grumbled.
As the men bickered, I kept my gaze fixed on the road ahead, doing my best not to let my distress show on my face.
Mom, Dad, Amina… Please, be safe. I’m coming!
Embercrest’s mighty stone walls rose above the horizon of lush farmlands cluttered with cabins, crops, and cows. My breath hitched. The sight almost brought me to tears.
The giant wooden doors were shut tight, locked from the inside. When the knights on the walls saw their captain and the patrol had returned, the doors slowly opened, leaving a brain-rattling groan.
This is my first time ever seeing the gate closed…
The patrol entered the city and stopped at the stables. I impatiently slid off Erik’s horse, almost tripping in my haste.
“Whoa— hey!” Erik protested as I sprinted toward the palace.
Mom, Dad, Amina! My hands balled tightly, knuckles turning white. Robin…! Fury surged through me, an anger intense enough to see red. I had never felt rage like this before. I have every intention of confronting her. But she has my face… If she’s still here, then she could call me a liar, claim I’m insane, and banish me from Embercrest. I need to act carefully, no matter how much I want to deck her.
The sound of trumpets rang through the streets again. This melody… where have I heard it before? I can’t remember the name.
Citizens, faces I knew well, either gathered toward the crowd near the palace or stayed behind with their heads down, faces cast in shadow.
I panted as I neared the palace, slowing my sprint to weave through the tightly knit crowd. The citizens’ chatter mixed with the melody of the trumpets, drowning out my thoughts. The crowd was too smushed together for me to get any closer to the royal palace, but I had a clear view of the stage behind the musicians playing their trumpets. They stopped, and the crowd went silent as three people stepped onto the stage. The stage was only put up on special occasions that involved all of Embercrest. I squinted closer to see the three.
A man dressed in white and gold ceremony clothes, Henry, and Amina.
Prince Henry wore a fancy tuxedo that had the Barren family’s royal colors: crimson and black. Princess Amina was in a frilled, laced white dress with golden lace: the Rays’ family signature colors. A white veil covered her face, and Prince Henry brushed it back, revealing her face prettied up with more makeup than usual. She glowed, and so did her smile.
Her dress… It kind of looks like a wedding dress. My thoughts whirled with confusion, drowning out the other man’s words except for the last sentence:
“You may kiss the bride.”
Henry placed his hands on Amina’s hips the same way he had done to me as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They leaned in, and their lips locked, a passionate kiss, and my jaw dropped.
I recognized the melody now. It was a matrimony song.
“Am… ina…?” My voice cracked as my hands flew to my head. I sniffled; my chest twisted and throbbed. Nausea clawed at my stomach.
My own sister, kissing the man who I thought was willing to love me for me. Yet, I had never seen her smile brighter as she faced the cheering crowd with her white bouquet raised. A diamond tiara adorned her head. My tiara.
“Ungrateful bastards,” snarled a deep voice. Captain Jackson. Drowning in my turmoil, I hadn’t noticed his arrival. I thought he was intimidating before, but this time his hazel eyes burned with hatred hot enough to melt metal. “And here I was hoping I had been gone long enough so I wouldn’t have to witness such treachery."
“Captain Jackson!” I grabbed his arm with shaky hands. “Why is Prince Henry marrying Amina?! Where is Liliana?!”
His eyes flew wide. “Princess Liliana?”
“Yes! Please, tell me!”
Jackson’s brows furrowed as his gaze darkened. His eyes made me feel as if the world had slowed and blurred around us.
“You really don’t know?” he asked. I fell silent. He grimaced and turned away. “You’ll find her in the cemetery."
The cemetery?
I spun around and dashed, shoving past the crowd. My lungs burned, but anxiety, fear, and desperation drove me forward.
My chest heaved as I slowed at the entrance's vine-covered archway. The dark grass had been flattened by many feet recently. A large statue that I had never seen before further inside made my heart pound harder. I gulped. I couldn’t explain why, but dread coursed through me, making every step heavy.
Nearing the concrete statue, I saw it was an angel with her arms stretched out as if to give someone a hug, her eyes closed, and a gentle smile on her lips. She had a beautiful face. Her hair had two braids on each side of her head, wrapped around into a bun above the long, outstretched hair. Her long wings were spread wide, like a goddess. Roma lilies covered the base of the statue and adorned the gravestone beneath it. The soft dirt was fresh. A picture of angels flying away was carved into the stone.
I fell to my knees when I saw the name.
This was my grave.