Powerful: A Powerless Story

Blood meets my tongue, leaving a particularly unpleasant tang behind.

I suck on my finger, attempting to cease the steady stream of scarlet welling on my skin. Typically, my thumb takes the most abuse from the tip of my needle, but it seems my index finger is equally in danger this evening.

I examine the mutilated skin, cursing myself for my clumsiness. My mind is far from the fabric in front of me, just as it has been since this morning. Despite my best efforts, it keeps wandering back to Loot and the boy with soot-stained hands, scarred lips, and a sliver of silver hair.

I huff, filling the empty room with my aggravation after several hours of silence. Pale moonlight streams through the dusty windows that line the walls, casting a warm glow on the colorful fabric pouring from the shelves and draping over tables.

I’ve spent most of my days huddled up in the sewing room, along with most of my nights. Though, I’ve spent as much time with Pae as her busy schedule will allow. While she trains and rests, I try my best not to bleed on the dress I’m scrambling to finish in time.

Silver, silky fabric drapes over my leg, coating me in what looks to be melted coins. Once I’ve ensured that nothing is leaking from my several stab wounds, I run my fingers over the material for the dozenth time. I’ve never felt fabric like this, let alone afforded to use it. The entirety of this vast room is stocked full of whatever supplies I could possibly dream up. Rolls of fabric litter the shelved walls while dozens of tables sit atop soft carpet, all for the seamstresses’ convenience.

I think I may have died and awoken in my own, personalized heaven.

The light at my table hums with power – a fascination in itself. I’m not used to so much electricity, running water, soft mattresses. I could get accustomed to living in a castle. I could get used to truly living.

Taking a deep breath, I force my focus back onto the thin, draped sleeve I’m currently stitching to the gown’s body. With the ball tomorrow evening, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll be spending much of my night alone in this sewing room.

Not that I’m complaining.

With Pae fast asleep, there is not much else I’d rather be doing. Besides, I need something to take my mind off him.

It wasn’t hard to smile and laugh with Pae after I climbed into that coach. No, it was after that was difficult. It was when she set off for dinner with the other contestants, leaving me in a sewing room of strangers, that I was finally forced to think of him. Of the betrayal that hit me like a physical blow, forcing tears to well in my eyes.

He lied to me. About his power, his plan, his everything.

And here I was, thinking he cared for me. Thinking that what I felt for him just might have been reciprocated.

But it’s Hera he wants more than me. Hera he’s willing to risk everything for.

I shake my head at the fabric I’m furiously stitching. It’s treasonous to escape the Trials. How could he go through with this plan if he knows the death that awaits them when they are caught?

‘I was bound to die anyway.’

His reasoning is as tragic as it is terribly true. I don’t want to think about what would happen if he was discovered to be a Wielder. In short, the king would ensure that was no longer the case.

The thought has tears prickling my eyes, blurring the fabric in my lap to nothing but a silver blob. Sniffling, I pull my hair into a messy knot, blinking away the emotion.

I’m angry at him. He used me. Lied to me.

Every thought vanishes when the wall ripples beside me.

No, someone ripples beside me.

I jump to my feet, clutching the needle between my fingers as if it will do anything to protect me.

My eyes widen when an Imperial steps through the wall.

An Imperial with the cleanest seams I’ve ever seen, and black hair interrupted by a streak of silver.

His dark eyes flick over me behind the leather mask, landing on what I’ve pointed at his chest. ‘So, this is what you meant by wielding your needle.’

That dull voice cuts through me, shocking enough to make me momentarily lose mine. ‘W-What…’ I choke on the word and attempt to try again. ‘What are you doing here?’

He swallows. His discomfort is visible, evident in the shifting of his feet. It’s almost as though he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and if I weren’t battling so many emotions at the sight of him, I might have laughed. ‘I was walking the halls and felt your power.’ He clears his throat at the mention of the ability he’s kept hidden from me. ‘I knew it was you. And I… I needed to see you.’

I gesture to the length of him with the needle still poised to strike. ‘Is that the only reason for your visit?’

He looks away, sighing. ‘Look, I came to see you first. That has to count for something.’

‘Well, it doesn’t.’ I cross my arms, tone defiant. ‘Don’t let me hold you up on your way to getting yourself killed.’

‘Please,’ he whispers, taking a step towards me. ‘Just let me explain—’

‘Explain?’ I laugh loud enough to have him looking around nervously. ‘You had nearly two weeks to explain to me what was going on. Instead, you lied.’ I step back, my voice strained. ‘And you spent every day knowing that I would never see you again after I was done making that stupid uniform for you.’

He’s persistent, pushing forward as he pleads, ‘Dena. Please. If you don’t like what I have to say, you can stab me with your needle once I’m done.’

I eye him skeptically. ‘Promise?’

He nods. ‘Yes. But only because I know you wouldn’t actually do it.’

I feel offended, despite knowing he’s exactly right. ‘You don’t know that.’

‘I know you,’ he says softly. ‘And I know that I’m the fighter, and you’re the lover.’

I swallow. ‘Go on.’

He takes a heavy breath, one that holds the weight of something he’s carried for years. ‘I ran away from home. I was fourteen at the time.’ His head shakes slightly. ‘Hera was only twelve, living with my family because her parents had died. She’s my cousin – maybe I should have led with that.’

I struggle to hide the relief flooding to my face. He never talked about what she was to him. And I’m selfishly thankful for their relation and nothing more.

‘We ran away from my parents, started living on our own from that moment on,’ he continues quietly. ‘She’s the only person who’s been there for me. The only one who helped keep me alive while I hid in the shadows, terrified that someone would find out what I am.’

He takes a step closer, swallowing what little space remained between us. ‘That is why I have to do this. I can’t let her die. Not after she spent years of her life saving me.’

I’m quiet for longer than he likely expected. I watch him squirm under my scrutiny before finally saying, ‘Why did you run away?’

He shakes his head slightly. ‘That’s a story for another time.’

‘When?’ I say, sounding harsher than perhaps I’ve ever been. ‘You’re here to say goodbye, aren’t you? So, don’t lie to me, Mak. There is no other time for me to finally get to know you.’

‘There’s not much worth knowing,’ he murmurs.

‘Fine.’ I stare him down with the pointed look I learned from my mama. ‘Then I think we’re done here.’

‘You want to get to know me?’ He rips the mask from his face, revealing the strong features hidden beneath. ‘I know that not a single person has convinced me to care about them before you.’

‘But Hera—’

‘Hera’s family,’ he corrects. ‘But you… you’re the embodiment of everything I am not. And yet, here I am, crawling back to you as though I’ve left a piece of myself behind.’ He slowly lifts a hand, and I hold my breath when his fingers run down a loose curl. ‘And it scares the shit out of me.’

‘So,’ I breathe, ‘what exactly are you saying, Mak? I mean, in the simplest way possible, tell me what—’

‘I regret not buying that blue shirt from you, if only so I had your attention long enough to convince you that red suits you better. I regret not telling you how much I like it when you blow those bangs out of your eyes, or the way you clap after finishing a row of stitches. I regret smothering every smile you made me want to give you. And I regret not telling you the truth. But most of all, not saying goodbye.’

My heart plummets, sinking into the stomach filled with butterflies. I can’t say a thing, can’t move an inch as he leans towards me and—

Footsteps echo from the hallway outside.

We jump apart, eyes flying to the closed door and the growing sound of steps behind it. Mak fastens the mask back onto his face, his expression far too stoic for our situation.

‘You need to go,’ I whisper urgently. ‘Imperials never come in here and if whoever that is sees you, they will know something is going on.’

‘I need to get Hera,’ he says evenly.

‘They will catch you.’ I plead with him, frantically trying to make him understand. ‘For all we know that could be Kai out there.’

‘Adena—’

‘Go. Please,’ I beg. ‘There is no need for both of you to die.’

The footsteps grow louder with every second spent arguing.

He shakes his head. ‘Then I have to come back tomorrow for her.’

‘You can’t.’ My eyes are pinned on his. ‘They guard the contestants’ doors the night before a Trial. They would stop you before you could even make it to her.’ He opens his mouth to argue, but my whisper quiets him. ‘Please, Mak. Don’t regret this too.’

He stares at me for a long, unblinking moment. And right when I think he’s about to make a horrible decision, he strides over to one of the many windows leading to the ground outside. Before he phases through to the open air beyond, he turns to murmur, ‘Come see me. Please. I don’t think I can handle losing both of you.’

And then he’s gone, melting through the wall and into the night.

I have just enough time to take a steadying breath before the door swings open.

My mouth drops at the sight of the man in the doorway before my knees bend into a curtsy. ‘Your Highness! Um, hi – sorry – I wasn’t expecting you or else I would have—’

‘Not been here?’ The future king laughs lightly like I’ve seen him do so many times with Pae.

‘Maybe?’ I admit with a hesitant smile.

‘I don’t blame you.’ He shrugs. ‘I’m not as much fun as I used to be.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true,’ I laugh. And then I’m suddenly clearing my throat to ramble. ‘I mean, not that I think you’re lying, of course. It’s just that I know Pae enjoys her time with you so… You can’t be too boring?’ I end the sentence with an unsure question while fighting the urge to flee the room.

I should really work on keeping my mouth shut.

‘Does she now?’ he asks, sounding amused. ‘That is news to me. I was beginning to think she despised me.’

‘Well, she should know better than to despise you.’ I sigh, shaking my head. ‘Your Highness,’ I add quickly. ‘But she doesn’t always do what she knows she should.’

He nods in agreement, a slight smile on his face. ‘That, I have learned.’ He strides over to the illuminated table draped in silver fabric. ‘That is actually why I was hoping to find you here.’

‘R-Really?’ I stutter, my smile widening. ‘What could you possibly need from me?’

‘For starters,’ he sighs, ‘I need you to start calling me Kitt, not “Your Highness”. Then, I need some advice.’

I beam. ‘I think I can do both of those things for you, Kitt.’

‘Perfect.’ He clasps his hands in front of his navy tunic. ‘Now, is this the dress she’ll be wearing to the first ball?’

I nod vigorously. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? Ugh, I can’t wait to see it on her. And the cut of it will really accentuate her—’ I press my lips together at the reminder of who I’m talking to. ‘You get the point. It will look great.’

‘Oh, I’m sure it will.’ He sighs, looking unsure. ‘She will definitely be making a statement.’

I fight to hide my frown. ‘And you don’t want her to?’

‘I want her to be careful, that’s all.’ He runs his fingers over the smooth fabric. ‘There are people out there who will take offense at her boldness. You know, not wearing green as is tradition.’

I nod slowly, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, he speaks instead. ‘So, what do you think? Tux and a black tie?’ He runs a hand through messy, blond hair. ‘Not that it matters. I doubt very many people will be looking at me anyway.’

I giggle softly in agreement. ‘Wear a silver tie clip. And don’t be offended if she doesn’t even notice. But it will be a nice touch for those who care enough to look closely.’

‘Oh, there is always someone looking closely,’ he breathes before falling silent.

The light hums atop the table; the only sound for several seconds. That’s before I clear my throat to say, ‘Well, I’m always available for all your fashion needs!’

His eyes meet mine. ‘Can you tell me what I’m doing wrong?’

The question startles me for a moment. ‘With your outfit?’ I look him over. ‘I mean, that color definitely complements your skin tone—’

‘No,’ he chuckles. ‘Paedyn. She will hardly look at me.’ He lifts his hands in exasperation, scoffing slightly. ‘I mean, I’m not sure what to do anymore. I find her fascinating in a way that no one has ever been before. Like she’s realer than anything I’ve encountered here in the castle.’

I smile at the sound of his voice, at the sincerity coating each word. I can sense a smittenness I doubt he’s even acknowledged yet. And part of me hopes to see my best friend beside him with a genuine smile on her face.

Maybe in another life they were meant to be. A life where he wasn’t the heir to an Elite throne, and Pae wasn’t punished for being an Ordinary.

‘Pae is a difficult creature.’ I place a hand on my hip. ‘Trust me, I know this firsthand. But she’s consistent with what she wants the most from others.’ I shrug. ‘Honesty. Someone she can talk to. And for you especially, an open mind to what she has to say.’

He nods absentmindedly. ‘An open mind, huh?’

I nod. ‘You’re the future king. I can imagine she has a lot of suggestions for you.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m sure she does.’ Then he’s turning towards the door. ‘Thank you, Adena. But you may not be rid of me yet. I’ll likely need more advice in the future.’

My grin is wide. ‘And I’ll be here for as long as you’ll allow!’

He returns my smile. ‘Once I’m king, I may just need to make you an adviser of mine.’