The Fairest (Sample)

Darkness. Nothing but darkness and a faint burning sensation in her arms and midsection. Both urged Mageia to open her eyes, but her brain begged her to keep her body at rest. Icy cold water slithered into her nostrils and mouth and shocked her skin. She gasped awake, coughing and sputtering water. A guard with a bucket became visible in her blurred vision, along with the grins of his companions.

“Wake up, Strange,” he demanded.

Mageia groaned, and the burning pain inside her body intensified. They laughed at her agony.

“That was a good jump, but good thing you didn’t know those thorns cause numbness, or we’d still be chasing you.”

She shook her head and crumbled into the fetal position. There were heavy chains now clasping her wrists, and someone had also bandaged both of her forearms.

“Are you finished with her, Master Fisican?” the guard asked.

Mageia squinted and noticed Master Joras holding a bloody bowl and tweezers. Dressed in his finest attire and head wrap, the Master Fisican continued to check her body with great precision.

“I plucked the thorns I saw, but who knows how many more are lodged deeper into her flesh?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the guard said, then shouted at her. “Get up!”

Someone grabbed a shivering arm and yanked her off the bloody grass. She stumbled into him until another guard took her by the other arm.

Her legs wobbled, slowly waking up from the numbness. “Have mercy,” she managed to say through the pain.

The group of guards laughed. They dragged her inside the palace and through some hallways to a room smothered in perfumes. A sitting room. A fancy one with sofas and armchairs beside a large emerald-flecked fireplace. People and soldiers were everywhere. They muttered and cringed in horror. She was dragged to the center of the room and dropped onto the rug like a sack of potatoes.

“What have you done to her?” snarled the familiar voice of Prince Grisonce.

Mageia blinked, determined to both clear her vision and keep herself awake. Whatever kind of thorns those were, they really did their job because she felt woozy and exhausted. On top of the throbbing pain in her midsection, her fury of failure and defeat stirred deadly in her soul.

“You mean to ask, what did she do to herself,” said one of the soldiers that dragged her. “She pushed Royce off the roof.”

“Ledge,” she corrected.

“Shut it.” The guard slapped the side of her face with the back of his hand.

“Don’t do that!” Prince Grisonce shouted.

Mageia shook her head, and her vision came to. Many people were present and stared at her as if she was some unidentified beast. The royal family sat in the comfortable chairs, except for Prince Grisonce, who stood wearily beside Rasheem and the slave girl, Hasana, across the room. Commander Eron stood on the opposite side of the room to her right with four Knight Escorts – one being Ser Merlin – and Dargany with other royal escorts. Even the High Priest, Lord Hercones, was present with a few other unknown officials granted access to be a witness.

The prince struggled to approach her, but two royal escorts held him back.

King Dimitri sighed heavily. His bulbous being looked close to breaking the legs of the armchair he sat in. “Grisonce, you embarrass us.”

“Why? For possessing a heart?” he snapped back.

Mageia felt that one and everyone in the room did too, by proof of wavering frowns.

The king sneered, and his large hands squeezed the arms of his chair. “Did I not deny your request?”

“You n-never denied my re-requests before,” Grisonce said.

“Because those did not concern a Strange that may or may not be dangerous!”

“She’s not dangerous!” Grisonce shouted without a single stutter.

“She is a criminal,” Commander Eron barked from the other side of the room.

Grisonce looked at Eron as if he were stupid. “Yes, a thief, not a r-rampaging murderer.”

The king shook his head. “She could be a sorceress for all we know.”

“She’s not!”

“I am not,” Mageia inputted.

“This girl will be transferred to the Dungeons after she receives her new consequences,” King Dimitri declared.

Grisonce shook his head and took a step forward. “Please d-do not punish her. I take full responsibility for her actions.”

“How kind of you, but it doesn’t work like that, boy.” The king’s face twisted with anger. His eyes cut to her, and she nearly coughed up a lung. “For your escape attempt and putting a guard in a coma, you will serve four years in the Dungeons before Eron begins his assignment.”

“Four years?” Mageia slumped further to the floor.

“If the guard dies, I’ll add another four years,” the king said.

“This is not fair, father!” Grisonce shouted. “Today of all d-days, you have to have mercy.”

“Don’t talk to me about mercy. If you ever become king, you will realize that the safety of everyone within this palace and the kingdom rests on you. Making decisions you do not like is a part of the job.”

Grisonce’s lips trembled, but his brow clashed together in fury. “At least, f-father, allow me to have the assignment instead of Eron.”

“Hell no,” Eron’s husky voice rose amongst the whispering of the unwanted audience.

“Silence, Eron,” the king said with a sharpness that could cut a tree in half. The Fiisen’s eyes narrowed at the king, full of the desire to burn him where he stood.

“You didn’t want it to begin with,” Grisonce argued back.

“No. I prohibit you from ever meeting with this Strange again. You had two loyal men break rank, responsibility, and protocol to aid in your scheme, let alone two slaves and who knows who else? You disobeyed my orders, which resulted in a palace guard in a coma. You’ve placed everyone and your family in possible danger.”

“Father, you d-do not realize the mistake you are m-making.”

“Mistake? I am the king. I am never wrong!” the beastly man bellowed.

“Now you are! If you knew how imp-portant she is to this kingdom and this realm, y-you would think twice before locking her up.”

“Important? What makes this thief more important than every Fair in this room?”

She held her breath, eyes widening and jaw dropping. Every ache in her body increased as tension spewed into every muscle and bone. Oh, Holy Rasaal, don’t let him say his theory.

“She is special.”

“How?”

The Strange Prince glanced at her for a minute, stirring nausea within her. The boy was mad to have such a ridiculous, blasphemous assumption, but if he were to present it right now, he’d be a dead man or worst … she would be.

“I-I have a theory,” he began.

Oh, gods no. Mageia groaned.

“Please, do tell,” the king urged sarcastically.

“I p-prefer to speak it in private w-with you,” Grisonce said.

Mageia held her breath as the king shook his huge head. “No. Either speak it now or never.”

“I b-believe she is a Fairest,” he confessed with his chin high and confident.

Mageia’s shoulders dropped in full defeat. She may as well stand and lead everyone to her cell in the Dungeons for a life’s sentence.

A silence that could crack glass conquered the sitting room. The king’s eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. Lord Hercones’ eyes widened in pure disbelief while everyone else scrunched their faces in confusion.

“A what?” Queen Saia inquired, a smile spreading across her face. Some people began to chuckle.

“A Fairest promised by Hamino and prophesied by Tiivon Lariius,” Grisonce managed to get out smoothly.

“That is foolish talk!” an elderly noble shouted.

“Nothing but blasphemy,” the queen added. “This Strange is not the Fairest of us all.”

Mageia shivered, realizing these people might’ve been clueless about what the prince was referring to, but it didn’t matter. She caught the furious gaze of the king and wished she had magic to simply disappear into thin air.

“She has nothing to d-do with Strange and Fair,” Grisonce said. “The Book of Legends states—,”

“The Book of Legends? Oh, gods no,” Queen Saia interrupted. “That book has been discredited by the Priesthood for eras now. How dare you speak this nonsense?”

“Just because she has purple eyes does not mean anything. I’ve seen plenty of beautiful eyes in my days. Doesn’t mean they’re special,” Gideon chimed in, giving his giggling sister a nudge of his elbow.

“He’s just twisting sacred words,” the queen accused.

“No, our Priesthood has t-taught a twisted version of the truth,” Grisonce stated.

“Lord Hercones, rebuke him.” Princess Relana turned to the old High Priest.

Everyone’s eyes except the king’s went to him, and his wide watery eyes proved his shock of the subject. “I must speak to Grisonce on this matter, privately,” Lord Hercones said.

“You’ve denied all of my re-requests,” Grisonce said, anger seeping from his sweet honey eyes.

“Enough of this!” the king raged. Mageia jumped from the man’s deep voice. He held up a hand and everyone silenced themselves. “You shame yourself on this sacred day, Grisonce. And here I thought you were just being stupid by bringing this girl into the palace. But now I see you have truly lost yourself.”

“I speak the truth,” Grisonce declared.

“You speak blasphemy before the Diviines and treason before the Crown.”

“I’ve done no s-such thing.”

“I warn you now, Grisonce, put an end to this theory of yours.”

“May I t-talk to you about it?”

“No!” The king held up a dismissive hand. “Your escorts will be returned to you immediately. They will keep an eye on you for me to ensure that you will never see this Strange girl again.”

“That is unnecessary!” Grisonce yelled.

“You are banned from your chambers until further notice.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can. This is my house! If I hear even a whiff that you’re still pursuing this blasphemous theory, I won’t only strip you of your Master’s title, but also your birthright!”

Gasps erupted about the room, even from Mageia. Grisonce gave his father an icy stare that could make the king break into a sob. She shifted on the floor and held her breath, preparing herself for the boy to explode with some hidden power of his own. He stepped forward, but the escorts grabbed him and pulled him away from the Royals, away from his own family.

The king seemed to have put an end to the conversation. He rose to his feet, causing his chair to creak a bit. She stared up at the giant monarch as he cast his shadow over her and gulped.

Grisonce clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “Coward. And to think I thought better of you.”

Rasheem took hold of the boy’s arm, signaling him to stop. The king gaped down at her without an ounce of compassion in his eyes. Images of King Thaddeus doing the same thing so many years ago flickered in her mind. She furrowed her brows with worry and shifted her weight onto her aching knees. Nausea flustered her gut, and the room spun in her eyes.

“Are you the Fairest of us all? How about we find out … tonight?”

Mageia’s jaw dropped, and every pain in her body spiked. The prince’s face flushed of its color.

“What’re you talking about?” Grisonce demanded.

“Your Majesty, we should discuss this first,” Lord Hercones said, stepping forward with fear, claiming his face.

“No! Allow me to prove she is nothing and means nothing,” the king continued. He was obviously taking out his anger on her. She gawked up at him in pure disbelief, and fear turned her blood into ice. “I will have mercy on one of the Sacred Sevens.”

“You can’t do that!” Grisonce glances at Lord Hercones, who was just as shocked.

“No. Please don’t,” Mageia begged in a whisper.

The king nodded; eyes dark with a mocking intent. “A fair consequence for both your poor decisions. Make peace with the gods, Purple Thief. You will die tonight at our holiest of sacrifices.”