"Don't look at her in the eyes, Dai; she's not using her blindfold," the Queen yelled, her voice sharp and commanding, cutting through the heavy tension in the air. The sound startled both her son and me, but I did my best to mask my reaction.
Come on, it's not like I'm a dangerous person or anything, I thought bitterly, even though their fear of me was painfully clear. I glanced away from her and her husband, trying to suppress the wave of annoyance rising inside me, but the condescension in her tone was hard to ignore.
"Pardon me?" Daisuke barked, his voice dropping lower, rougher, as if the weight of his anger had physically dragged it down. His tone was sharper than a blade, the barely restrained fury unmistakable. That voice alone was enough to tell me he was fighting the urge to kill me right there and then. "How dare you do this to the Queen and the King of the Kingdom, you little whore?" he exploded, his words hitting me like stones hurled in a fit of rage. Before I could react, his large hand shot out, grabbing my forearm with a vice-like grip that made my breath hitch. His strength was brutal and unyielding, and I instinctively avoided meeting his gaze.
If I hadn't spent years training my body, building up my resilience to pain, I was certain he would have snapped my arm right then and there. His grip tightened even more, and I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to stay still and keep my expression neutral. "You weren't satisfied with causing my sister's death, and now you come after my parents?" His voice dripped venom as his hold grew even more painful, a clear threat. I bit my lip, drawing blood in my effort to remain composed. I couldn't let him see how much it hurt. I couldn't let him win. My poker face stayed firmly in place. "Do you have a death wish?" he spat, his anger a palpable force pressing down on me.
"Why are you bringing me closer, Crown Prince?" I asked, my voice steady and cold, deliberately devoid of emotion. "Do you want me to look at you in the eyes, Your Royal Highness?" I leaned in slightly, my words cutting through the thick silence between us. "Believe me, I would do it gladly if your parents weren't here," I added in a whisper, my tone daring, though I knew the consequences. His hand immediately let go of me, and I stumbled back a step, rubbing my forearm.
I glanced down and saw the angry red imprint of his hand blooming on my skin. It would undoubtedly turn into a vivid purple bruise soon enough. The sight only fueled the frustration simmering inside me, but I kept my attention sharp, focusing on his parents instead. "Your Majesties," I began, forcing my tone to remain respectful despite the bitterness threatening to seep in. "I promised you I wouldn't tell a soul about it, so even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to. But can you please not leave him in the dark? Otherwise, he might break my arm, and while I know none of you care about that, I do. So, uh, can you please tell him?" I finished, my words laced with sarcasm I couldn't entirely suppress.
"Tell me what?" Daisuke's voice rose in anger again, this time directed at everyone in the room. "Mom? Dad? What is this bitch talking about?" His eyes burned with fury as he turned from me to them. Such a gentleman he is… not to say otherwise. I rolled my eyes internally, though I dared not do it openly.
The Queen and King exchanged weary glances before the Queen finally sighed and spoke. "We ordered her to come to us, see our deaths, and tell us about them. Then we made her swear in front of the Gods that she would never tell anyone about it. That's also why she can't talk about it, no matter how many times someone asks her," she explained, her tone more resigned than apologetic, as if recounting a simple business transaction. Just like they had with Avy.
"But there aren't any blood tears on her face—when did you make her do that if it wasn't today?" Daisuke demanded, his confusion briefly overshadowing his anger. He stared at his parents, his fists clenched, as though willing them to explain something that made no sense to him.
The Queen answered calmly, her voice even, "She was three years old. It was right when she awakened her power. We had to know, and so she kept it a secret. Not even Avy knew about it."
Three years old. I glanced down, biting the inside of my cheek to stop the surge of emotions threatening to break through. She could have told him that earlier—maybe before her son decided to bruise my arm. It was painfully obvious that she hated me more than I initially thought, though it didn't surprise me.
"Then I guess it couldn't be helped," Daisuke said, his voice clipped and cold, as if this explanation absolved him of everything that had just happened. Of course, he would say that. I rolled my eyes outright this time, unable to stop myself.
"Now about Eileithya," he continued, speaking as though I weren't standing right there. "She must participate in the Trials! So I ask you to not do what she asked," he added. This motherfucker—
"Your Majesties," I interrupted, my voice rising in desperation, but the Queen silenced me with a simple sigh.
"We'll do as you asked, son," the Queen said, her words like a blow to my gut. My breath hitched as nausea crept in. They didn't know what they were doing. "You will have to participate in the Trials, Eileithya," she said, addressing me directly now, though the formality in her tone was ice-cold. "Liking it or not. It's only a year of your life anyway; it won't make a difference," she added dismissively.
A year? My knees gave out from under me, and I collapsed to the ground. My vision blurred, my thoughts spinning wildly out of control. The world around me became muffled and distant, the voices of those in the room blending into an incomprehensible hum. I vaguely registered someone else entering, but I couldn't bring myself to focus on who it was.
"Please, Your Majesty," I managed to choke out, my voice trembling as I forced myself to speak through the chaos in my mind. "I can't spend a year here. I… I can't! Please, reconsider!" I begged, my voice cracking as I stared at the ground. I couldn't look up at them; I wouldn't let them see the despair on my face. I refused to let them witness my breaking point. "Please…" I whispered, my voice barely audible.