The room is dark and I am tucked under the covers. I remember dinner last night, the maids returning and helping us get ready for bed, locking the door so I couldn't escape.
My eyes drift closed and I am about to fall asleep again, when I hear it.
Footsteps.
The situation is all too familiar and I remember the last time I was woken in the middle of the night. I keep my eyes shut, listening intently. I can't mess this up again. They come closer and the softest sound of a dagger being drawn breaks through the silence. A feather light breath lands on my face and in that moment my fist flies upwards, punching the assailant's face.
He doubles back and curses in agony, I toss back the sheets and flick on the light.
Maverick is holding his nose, the hood of his cloak still in place over his forehead, but when he sees me a fire lights in his eyes. Maverick lunges at me, the grip tightening on his knife. I am thankful then for the hundreds of hours spent practicing ballet and fencing. I dodge his blow and turn off the light, plunging the room into darkness once more.
"Could you stop trying to kill me?" I hiss as he makes another run at me.
"Could you let yourself be killed?" He growls. "Clearly we don't always get what we want."
I grab his arm in the moonlight and twist it back, wrestling the dagger from it. I spin around aiming it at him, even though I'm not totally sure what to do with it.
"I hate you," he leers
"I hate you more."
"I hate you the most," he exclaims. "Beat that, Princess."
"I'd rather beat you," I cry
I strike forward in the darkness and the knife catches his hood, tugging it back slightly. Maverick's attention is lost and he hurriedly goes to fix it back into place. I take advantage of the distraction and leap forward, to my surprise, the blade makes contact with his arm.
"I didn't think you had it in you to actually hurt someone," he seethes, grabbing his arm.
"Well, I tend not to care when I'm fighting for my life," I retort.
"So you do this often then?" He mutters, leaping back as I take another swing at him.
"Only when you're around, somehow."
He laughs, sourly. "It must be fate then."
"More like a curse," I mutter, stabbing forward.
Maverick stumbles and trips, landing on the ground.
A smile flutters across my face. "I suppose I do have the upper hand," I whisper, leaning down until the dagger is inches from his chest. "I mean, I have magical powers and the dagger."
He smirks. "Oh, Princess. It's a shame you don't have brains."
In one swift movement Maverick kicks at my stomach, sending the dagger to the ground and sending me thudding into the wall.
He jumps up and holds the knife under my chin.
"You had a thousand chances to kill me," I hiss. "Why wait until now?"
Maverick shrugs. "I needed the King's permission. Believe me, Princess, if it had been up to me, I would have killed you and your father that first night."
My anger rises and I grit my teeth. "You are a despicable man."
"And you are a vain woman. Self-centered, foolish, complete-ly ludicrous. My heart bleeds at having to bring an end to such a precious life, but this is the way it has to be…"
"Perhaps," I whisper, the blade nearing my throat, "perhaps not."
For once, my powers serve me perfectly. I shove my hands against his chest as a blood red blast leaves them. It's powerful, powerful enough to propel Maverick across the room and through the locked windows. Glass shatters everywhere and I have to pick my way though it slowly.
I reach the window and look down, expecting to see his body sprawled on the ground. Instead, he is treading water in the pool.
"Are you immortal?" I scream.
"I could ask you the same thing."
I huff and stride out of the door. There are two guards waiting and when I walk out the look at me in surprise.
"Don't worry," I assure them. "You aren't seeing a ghost, Maverick is just very bad at killing me."
One of them swallows hard, looking almost scared. "Did you…"
"Kill him?" I check. "No, unfortunately not, although I did try. Sadly, the pool broke his fall.
The two guards exchange a frightened glance and race into my room. They look out the broken window to where Maverick is standing on the edge of the pool, soaking wet.
I take the opportunity of them being distracted to dash upstairs to the royal quarters. There are guards waiting outside the king's bedroom, but instantly move out of the way when they see me.
I give them a courteous nod and fling the doors open.
"Ah, job done then?" The king says
He is sitting at the desk, his back to me.
I laugh. "Not quite."
The king spins around, an outraged look on his face.
"You're kidding me? How did you live?"
I roll my eyes. "I'm better than him."
"Is Maverick dead?"
I sigh. "No. Luckily for him, the pool is right outside my window."
A knock sounds on the door and we both turn to see Maverick standing there, still dripping slightly.
He glares at me. "What are we going to do with you?"
"Let me live?" I try
He gives me an insincere smile. "As if!"
"Actually, Maverick, I think I might do that." The king says
"What?" Maverick exclaims
The king shrugs. "Her father will reply tomorrow. Then she will not be our problem anymore."
"She won't be your problem," he mutters. "I'm still in Valeria, and if the king finds out I was a part of this…"
"That's not my fault. It was you who approached me with this idea and it was working until you failed to murder her twice."
Maverick scowls, but before he can argue, I seize the opportunity.
"What were the demands?" I ask
"I have decided that is none of your concern," the king tells me.
I open my mouth to object, but he keeps talking.
"Don't argue, Kamala. A princess must know her place. As a women you must know your place; being rarely seen and never heard. You were not doing too badly while at home, so I'm sure you can continue that 'till tomorrow.
"Of course, if you would rather, I could have a fleet of guards come and kill you right now."
"That won't be necessary," I grate out.
The king smiles. "That is what I thought. Now go."
I walk back downstairs and into my room, trembling slightly as I get back into bed.
Did that just happen?
I cannot tell if I won or not, but somehow I made it out alive.
That is a miracle in itself.
By the time my heart has slowed, dawn is dragging itself across the window pane. I'm still amazed that I could control my power enough to use it the way I intended, I'm amazed it worked. The situation doesn't seem real.
I am fast asleep when a furious knocking starts on the door. It bursts open and Frida comes running in.
"You're okay!" She cries in relief. "You're okay."
She hugs me, quickly, before pulling back and letting out a long breath.
"I thought you were dead!" She gasps, tears welling in her eyes.
"Lady Frida!" Elise says, rushing into the room with Celia and Faye close at her heels.
"Kamala!" Faye blurts out, "I, I mean, we, thought you were…"
"Dead?" I offer. "No, apparently I am much more capable than Maverick."
"Maverick tried to murder you?" Frida exclaims
I nod. "Last night, well, I suppose it was the early hours of this morning."
"Did you kill him?" Faye asks, her dark skin looking oddly pale.
"No, but I do need a new window."
The four girls look towards the window, noticing the broken glass and splintered wood.
"How?" Celia wonders
I grimace. "My powers plus Maverick's body are enough to break glass."
The girls stare at me, speechless.
I push on, trying to reassure them. "It's really okay, though. The king has decided to wait until my father replies, we're safe. He doesn't believe it would be in his best interests to try killing me again.
I could have escaped last night, but it isn't really necessary anymore, my father will have sent guards to collect me and Frida and we'll be rescued."
Elise tilts her chin, taking control. "Then we better get you looking your best."
The maids jump into action, running the baths for us and selecting other extravagant gowns.
I end up in a simple, calf-length, buttercup yellow day dress. Celia fits Frida in an almost identical dress to mine, but instead of yellow her's is sky blue.
A large chime sounds and we are bundled into the care of the waiting guards. As before, they take us down to the same dining hall as before. Inside, the king, queen and prince are sitting with Carlos, but Maverick is nowhere to be seen.
"Welcome," the king greets us. "Lady Frida, I assume Princess Kamala has informed you of our agreement- and I intend to uphold it. So please, sit and eat, my reward will be worth it."
"I think you mean our reward," Carlos smirks.
The king grits his teeth, as if including Carlos physically pains him. "Precisely," he concedes, "our reward."
The doors crash open and Maverick enters, arm bandaged, cloak swinging as he walks. Maverick's eyes meet mine and his lip curls in disgust.
"Psychopath," he hisses
"Lunatic," I scowl.
The meal passes with minimal communication and Frida and I are lead up to the room immediately after. The morning passes in a haze of half-hearted attempts at conversation and watching the maids sew multiple embroidered crests onto the kings imperial clothes. We take lunch in the room as well and by that point everyone is tense, worried, waiting for the news of rescue. Faye comes and sits with me briefly.
"Are you excited to go home?" She whispers.
I shrug. "I am excited to leave here, but not about going home. It is not a happy place. Not for me."
Faye frowns, slightly, but nods and begins to select a gown for dinner. We are washed and dried and, once more, the maids throw themselves into the task, happily.
"This is your final night," Elise says. "We must have you looking your best."
She, Celia and Faye busy themselves with hunting down the most stunning dresses for our night, and they do not disappoint.
Frida is fitted in a long, ice blue gown with an empire waist and thin straps. My own gown is a fiery red colour, long and dramatic with jewels scattered down the skirt. We are both wearing tiaras to match.
Dinner is even quieter than breakfast was, but as we are rising to leave a small servant boy runs in. He hands the king a slim envelope, sealed with the Valerian crest.
My heart leaps and I watch as the king unfolds the paper. His eyes skim the page and I see his eyes flicker, portraying surprise, disappointment, anger.
He purses his lips together and looks at Maverick. "It appears your plan wasn't as foolproof as you lead me to believe."
"What are you talking about?" Maverick snarls
The king tosses him the letter. "Read it."
Maverick's eyes widen as they fly across the paper and he slams a fist down on the table, knocking the china and cutlery.
"This is all your fault," he roars at me, eyes flickering a dangerous red colour. It is only there for a moment and I frown, confused.
"How is it my fault?" I exclaim, but it comes out much softer, less brave.
"Guards!" The king cries.
Me and Frida are grabbed and pulled away from the table.
"Take them to the dungeons- and make sure you cuff her, we can't have anymore complications," he instructs them, steely eyed.
I wriggle and squirm, but the guards arms are strong and inside my magic has evaporated like vapour into the night. I pass Maverick's seat and glimpse the letter where he dropped it on the white table cloth.
It is short, clear, my father's familiar scrawl spreading across the sheet.
She means nothing to me.