Six (14 page)

I walk over to my window and run my fingers over the dark pink fabric of the dress that hangs there. “I will wear this one,” I say. I pull the dress down and look out the window. Finn’s house is vacant. I sigh in relief tinged with disappointment. Zeda has a large palette full of shimmering face paint sitting on my wooden table. I sit down and she paints my face as if I am a portrait. She gives me rosy cheeks and glossy lips. I keep my eyes shut as she sweeps a golden shade over my eyelids. I do not look in the gilded hand mirror she hands to me. Instead, I walk over to my wooden desk and pick up my broken piece of mirrored glass.

“I l—look,” I stutter, unable to find proper words.

“You look beautiful. Perfect, actually,” she says. The muted colors make my blue eyes stand out and my dark pink lips glisten in invitation—Liam’s invitation. Zeda has waved my blond hair and it swings past my bared shoulder blades.

She steeples her fingertips together and then draws them out toward the walls. A large mirror appears between her arms. It shines with an ethereal glow signifying magical properties.

“You do not have one in here,” she explains. My reflection shows the pink strapless dress and an unfamiliar face. I am relieved that at least my eyes are my own. Everything else is changed and polished to new standards.

“They will not be blue for long,” I whisper wistfully. I turn my face to break my line of vision. I pick up the sides of my dress and let the layers of fabric flounce around me. “Yes I’m just the perfect package to dress up, impregnate, and then kill. So poetic. I am ready. Can we leave now?” I ask. I am anxious to see outside of the walls of my room, though I am hesitant to leave the comfort of the known. The dynamics of the palace are foreign and I feel unease with the unknown. I put my hands on my hips. “Or am I to be contained in here for the rest of my life?” Zeda does not flinch at my harsh tone. She merely brings her hands together with a soft clap which causes the mirror to vanish.

“Of course your death is required. The prince couldn’t risk another monarchy in the challenging castles getting an heir on you. That would make another challenger. You do the job you are fated to do and then die a noble death. You should be proud,” she says. Her logic would have made perfect sense before, but now it proves how wrong the dark witches really are. I do not let Zeda see my anger. She must sense something because she finally adds, “Let us go, then, miss?” I nod once and follow her to the doorway.

Hoping she will give me more information, I ask more questions. “Tell me of the palace, Zeda. How many darklings are here?” I say. The holographs are fainter in the hallway. My eyes know not to focus on one point. They skim over everything, taking in the entire picture. There is no dizziness and I think perhaps I am already adjusting to this mystical world.

“It is unlike anything you have seen or felt. There are many darklings that reside in the Enchanted Palace, but unlike the princes from other lineages, Iliam has awaited his one true bride. He has not taken another before you as most princes do. Most of the darklings are only here because they want to be. Their correction isn’t necessary for our monarchy,” she says. I hate that she calls me his bride.

“How has your monarchy run before? Why the need for an heir now?”

“Because you are finally eighteen,” Zeda says simply.

“According to Liam, the world moves along in a furious pace. Would that not make me eighteen long ago?” Zeda glides down the hallway dragging her hand through images as she goes. I try not to watch the quivering ripples it causes.

“It would, but you needed to mature in body and mind. You are half-human so your body matured as a human’s would. You were not capable of carrying heirs until now. It is simple—the monarchy desires a change. They are bored with the status quo. You have been awaited.” My mother was slain because the monarchy became bored. Fury emanates from me. I want nothing more than to bring this castle down with my own two hands. Zeda glances back at me. “Your children with Prince Iliam will be so beautiful.”

Her vapid words cause my fury to boil over. My eyes glow white.

“You forget the last part of the story. I will die. Hopefully my hair is as beautiful in death as it is in life,” I nearly spit. My fingers are out, pointed at Zeda. I want to electrify her with her own intellect. I blame her for everything.

She turns and notices my dark magic pooling and smiles.

I smile for another reason. “Get away from me!” Bright gray lightening that originates deep inside my body leaves my fingers and throws Zeda down the hallway. She hits the wall and slides down, clutching her stomach as she goes. My body shakes as I hurry down the hallway to unleash more fury on her. There are no emotions in my body, just the need for her destruction. My mind has zoned into one task alone.

Liam opens a door to my left and it blocks my view of Zeda. He looks at me first with irritation and then his features soften into something more appreciative. Liam’s eyes are blue, but mine shine bright white. I take several deep breaths, but calmness does not come. Liam watches me speculatively, but says not a word.

“Get this insolate factotum out of my face,” I finally say, forgetting why I even wished her demise to begin with. Liam peers at the girl and then back at me. He lowers his brows and his lips press into a small smile.

“As you wish, my dark princess,” Liam says.

My hands automatically ball into fists at my side. The small movement reminds me of
control
. Reminds me that I need to control myself. I do not want magic to control my mind. I want to control it. I look down at Zeda’s body as a few others with glowing eyes drag her down the hall and I feel horrified. I have hurt her. I worry for Zeda. My magic is gone and I feel regret.

“She is quite fine. You have a mob of factotums that will gladly take her position. That is, until I fetch the darkling of your choosing,” Liam says. I want to tell him I do not wish Lana to come anymore, but the words do not come. I think it is because I know that if I have any hope of keeping small pieces of myself I
need
her. Liam laces his arm through mine as we exit through the door in which he came.

“You look magnificent, Emmalina. Breathtaking, ravishing, and wearing your true nature, you look a perfect fit,” he says as we walk down another corridor adorned with more holographic photos and shifting images. Extravagant gowns line the hallway. It is upon closer inspection I realize dark witches wear these gowns. Their eyes curious, their black hair waved in uniformed perfection. They do not speak, they only watch me with empty expressions.

I see a hologram and at first, do not recognize that it is of myself. I appear as a dark witch, my human qualities are indistinguishable. The image soon undulates and then vanishes. I ease at Liam’s side as if relieved the dark witch buried deep inside my body is gone. He presses his hand into the crook of my elbow. There are glowing doors before us. Shining bright, blinding light streaks through the glass panes.

“Are you ready?” Liam asks.

“I do not know what to expect,” I tell him. He squeezes my hand in a warm gesture, but my body does not respond to him or his cold touch.

“Expect perfection. This is for you, Emmalina. This is all for you,” he tells me. His words are devoid of any emotion, so they do not calm me. I reach for my necklace and feel the small red gemstone by my throat. Finn’s heart.
That is perfection
, I think to myself.

I walk out onto the grandiose balcony overlooking a crowd of bright eyes all trained on me. I do not see faces, or particular buildings in the distance. I notice a sun glowing fiercely in the sky. I know it is not real, but a glamor cast to impress their false city. I feel no heat as my mother described in her stories, but a smile spreads across my face regardless.

Liam glances at me with a look of fondness and pride. I am glad he cannot read my mind because he would know my smile has nothing to do with him or his palace, but with my sweet memories.

I think how magnificent the rays of light would look bouncing off Finn’s hair. And when I watch the light dance on my skin, I know the exact shade of light brown my mother’s eyes would have looked with her head tilted toward the sky.

A peal of laughter escapes me. I expect hostility from Liam at my outburst of emotion, but he stares at me quietly, as if trying to decipher a strange code. He clenches my hand a little tighter in his and one corner of his mouth wedges up.

A witch with gray magic encasing his body addresses the crowd of beings below us, but I do not hear his words. I study Liam’s face. With his eyes blue and affection transforming his features, I wonder for the first time if he truly cannot ever feel.

If he can—if my acting is on point—perhaps I am strong enough to save my own life.

Chapter Nineteen

July 19th, Midday

Liam’s palace is large. It is hard to tell what is spell induced and what is solid, and I suppose that is the point. I learned in my studies as a girl that all monarchies in the old world were built upon facades and falsities. The Enchanted Palace is no different. Unlike royalty I am familiar with, he bestows me with a necklace that chokes me, instead of a crown. The collar is comprised of precious gemstones. I smiled when Liam wrapped it around my neck during the coronation ceremony. I am happy it hides Finn’s heart. Now I will never have to take it off.

Images of me in witch form are littered throughout the palace. The holograms are familiarizing the witches with my presence. I fear the images.

“Can I be projected with blue eyes instead?” I whisper to Liam. We are sitting on simple chairs in the front of a large rectangular room. The witches in their fine clothing, adorned with colors I cannot describe, merely stare at us. I notice a pair of eyes in the back of the room that flicker from white to a matte color. I know she is a darkling. I yearn to know her, to talk to her.

“Is that what you wish, Emmalina?” Liam’s question confuses me.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you want the holograms to portray you with blue eyes?”

I glance around at several of my images and shiver. “Yes, for the time being I would prefer them to be blue,” I tell him without turning my gaze from the darkling.

Liam raises one hand into the air, palm up, and a black orb of spinning magic rises. He briskly snaps his fingers and the orb transforms into multiple gray beams of magic that dart to my holograms changing the eye color to blue. His magic is impressive.

“Thank you,” I mutter quietly. No one else notices the holograms have changed. No one else cares.

“You are most welcome, my princess,” Liam says. He looks at me hungrily, his gaze roving the curve of my chest and then dips down to my waist. I know he is picturing me naked. I know he is thinking of tonight, when my fated correction is to begin. His leer makes me uneasy, fearful, and disgusted. I must pretend I want him. I must seduce him like Lana and Bec taught me. Liam must care for me if I am to make it out of these walls alive. I see the darkling in the back of the room as a potential ally in my quickly forming plan.

“May I speak with anyone I wish?” I ask. He has told me of no rules so I ask before I do anything.

“Of course you may. I trust you will use your best judgment when discussing matters with our subjects,” Liam responds.

“I do not know what I am not to speak of, sir,” I say, hoping the show of submission will garner affection. Liam’s eyes glow white and he pulls the center of his lip in between his teeth. He likes when I say
sir
. “I will be brief with my conversing. I have a big night to ready for.” I let my voice take on a high, pleasing tone. It holds promise. Liam is stunned—he merely nods.

His eyes are still glowing white when I begin to walk away from him. I feel his eyes on my back. I know he is staring at me as I leave. I pull my hair over one shoulder to expose my bare back and turn my head to look back at him.

“I look forward to tonight…sir,” I say. Liam’s hollow expression makes my heart leap into my throat with alarm, but I know my words have had their intended effect. I use all my focus to pull from my dark side to make my eyes glow white to match his. He smiles. I turn from him and close my eyes tightly, willing myself to return.

I spot the group of darklings and realize they look alarmed as they see me approach. The shoes with high soles clack on the polished rock floor. Eyes turn to look at me as I cut a path through the throng of white eyes.

“Come with me, darklings,” I say when I stand in front of them. I want to talk to them in private.

“Yes, miss,” all three of the darklings say in unison. My stomach churns when I hear it.
They are probably unfeeling.
Like the one I heard killed in the desert circle. The girl’s death scream rings in my ears. I am relieved the dining hall I saw earlier is still in the same place. No spells have moved it…yet. It is empty but for us four.

“Why are you here?” I ask, while looking them in the eye one at a time.

“Because you told us, miss,” one says. Her eyes flicker brown.

“Where did you come from?” I ask under my breath. The one with the brown eyes answers me again,

“The woodland circle,” she says very quietly. The other two look at her and speak at the same time,