"Milady, you should come with us."
Ren's blue eyes instantly snapped open when she heard that solid formal voice of a man. She furrowed her brows at the sight of familiar royal guards towering over her. Their presence cast a growing shadow, blocking the pleasant sunlight she had enjoyed just moments ago.
Her body was stretched out on the green grass. Reluctantly, she steadied herself and sat upright, like the lady she was expected to be. She let out a deep, irritated sigh as she stood up. Her dark brown wavy hair bounced lightly and cascaded over her shoulders, concealing her bulged breasts.
"What's the matter? Why are you here? I could have returned to the castle with Viva."
Her voice was calm but tinged with unease as she gestured toward her sleek black horse, Viva, standing a short distance away. She pouted as she discovered the restlessness in Viva's tone heightened as its gaze lingered on the royal guards encircling it.
"Please forgive us, Milady!" The head guard stammered, his voice edged with embarrassment and discomfort when he rapidly pulled out a gleaming red bracelet from his pocket, his movements stiff yet unsure. He tried not to meet her eyes. She was distracted by her horse's odd apprehension, therefore, he didn't give her a chance to retort and snapped the jewel onto her left wrist.
Ren's eyes widened in shock, disbelief freezing her in place. Fear gripped her throat as she felt the core of her magic slip away, dissolving into nothingness as if it had never existed. The weight of the moment hung heavily, unbelievable and suffocating. The sky of her mind clouded with eerie thoughts.
They knew about her magic!
"How dare you use a magic blocker on me? You know I possess no power!" she yelled, her voice trembling with indignation. She struggled futilely to remove the bracelet, her frustration mounting as Viva sensed her distress.
The horse grew increasingly agitated, stomping its hooves, neighing loudly, and tearing into the grass with restless power. It thrashed against the guards restraining it, pulling fiercely at the tight bridle to break free. But the guards, wary of the horse's unmatched strength and speed, resorted to a desperate measure. One of them pulled out a small pouch and blew green dust into Viva's nostrils, the fine particles of the dust swirled in the air before settling on the panicked mare, making it fall unconscious.
"No, no… don't hurt..." her plea was cut short as another cloud of green dust burst into the air, enveloping her face. The serene green hills, the rolling plains below, and the vibrant flower fields she had taken such pleasure in all liquefied into an ominous blackness.
Her body faltered, her thoughts slipping into a foggy void. Her knees buckled, and before she could resist, her mind went numb. She collapsed, unconscious.
'Why? Why are you doing this to the King's niece?'
She demanded an explanation, her voice ringing with urgency, or so she thought. But no sound escaped her lips. She wasn't shouting. In fact, she wasn't even capable of moving her mouth.
The words echoed only in her mind, and for a fleeting moment, she convinced herself they could hear her thoughts.
The blackness slowly gave way to glittering colors, and eventually, she discerned a few figures standing before the throne, their faces still indistinct. A throbbing pain pierced her head, spreading relentlessly into the marrow of her bones, as though a dragon viper had sunk its fangs into her.
"What is happening?" she whispered, desperately gasping for air. When she finally managed to draw a breath, her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythms. Tears shimmered at the edges of her eyes, threatening to spill as the faces before her came into focus.
She looked around in despair, searching for the head guard, but he was nowhere to be seen. Her voice quivered as she shouted, "Where is Viva?" It was all she could think of as her condition began to stabilize, her focus narrowing to that one burning question. She raised Viva and trained it. The mare was the only friend she had in her entire life.
Ren stood on her feet, her hand still bound by the magic blocker. She couldn't straighten her shoulders as the thought of her family fearing her felt like a noose tightening around her throat. Were they planning to cast her out or worse, kill her?
She forced herself to take in her surroundings. They were in the majestic throne hall of Alvonia, its grandeur doing little to ease the weight in her chest. Only six people stood before her, their faces unreadable, each concealing emotions she couldn't decipher.
"I'm glad you're unhurt, my dear. Viva is fine," Aunt Everin said softly, her face etched with immense concern, a look that only deepened Ren's growing terror. Cold sweat began to bead along her back.
She felt the prodding pain under her skin vanish as the green dust lost its impact. Yet, the heavy and tense atmosphere in the hall pressed hard on her shoulders like an invisible force.
"Stay where you are, Eve. Give her some space to think about what she's done, or what she is," the King bellowed, his voice sharp as a blade aimed at his own sister, making her jolt and close her eyes to stifle tears. Ren had never seen her uncle so enraged; fury burned in his brown eyes like an unrelenting fire.
'Think about what I've done?'
The thought echoed in her mind as her gaze darted around the room in shock. Her wide, desperate eyes landed on her father, silently pleading for support. But his face was painted with fear, his lips parted as if to speak, yet no words came. As always, his silence screamed louder than any words could have.
"Dankin, say something!" Ren begged, her voice breaking.
Her half-brother, Dankin, kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his silence cutting deeper than any blade. He didn't want to intervene, not when this opportunity could secure his place as the sole heir to the throne.
But why? What was wrong?
Ren's frantic eyes shifted to her half-sister, Araben, and stepmother, Reve. Her knees buckled once again as she caught sight of the smug, triumphant smirks stretched on their faces. In that instant, the truth struck her like a blow. They had orchestrated this humiliation. They had brought her here, handcuffed in a magic blocker, and treated her like a criminal.
Her breath hitched. She couldn't believe it. Araben was enjoying this, twirling a lock of her fiery red hair with her forefinger, her green eyes glinting with malice. Her gaze twinkled with undeniable hostility. She had done this.
Had they exposed her to the King? Araben had always despised her presence as a member of their family, and so had her mother, Reve, but this? This was beyond anything she could have imagined. They had sworn to the gods that they wouldn't speak of it to anybody unless they knew the truth of what had happened to her.
But, it seemed those vows meant nothing and were taken too lightly. The moment they found a chance to make Dan the sole heir, their promises shattered into thin air. Ren's own foolishness had made her believe in their lies.
Realization struck her with brutal clarity after three long months, and it tore at her heart. "How could you?" Ren's voice was barely a whisper, the words hardly escaping her lips. Her heart pounded so fiercely that she struggled to breathe.
"So, you're not denying it?" King Benkin, her uncle, the man she had loved even more than her very father, was now condemning her for something she had never intended.
"Present your evidence!" His cold gaze averted to Araben. She wore a smirk and approached him, pulling a satchel from the folds of her puffy pink skirt.
Ren curled her slender fingers into a tight fist, her knuckles whitening as anger surged through her veins. She could no longer contain her fury and shouted, "It was the first time that it had happened to me, I didn't even know I had it in me!"
She wasn't lying; she knew the truth was the only thing that could prevent the situation from worsening.
The King ignored her, his gaze icy to make her spine stiff. He grabbed the satchel from Araben, gently. With a slow, deliberate motion, he retrieved the crooked fork and stood. His imposing presence filled the room as he descended from his Ruby throne with elegance. His face was an unreadable mask as he approached Ren, his rich black robe sweeping across the cobbled floor. Araben trailed behind him, her every step a deliberate display of superiority, flaunting her power over Ren.
"You're saying she did this without using her hands?" His voice was firm as he stood directly in front of Ren, his gaze shifting between Araben and her elder sister.
"Yes, Your Majesty. We had a small argument three months ago. She got angry and attacked me with this." Araben's tone was deceptively innocent, but only Ren knew the true nature of her half-sister. At just seventeen, Araben was already cunning and ruthless, determined to remove her older sister from the picture.
"No, that's a lie." Ren's voice cut through the air, desperate and shaking. "I didn't attack her. I just..."
Ren's words faltered as the lump in her throat swelled, choking her, and forcing tears to spill from her eyes. She couldn't stop them; the overwhelming sadness consumed her. No one would believe she had no vicious intent unless they saw her use magic. To everyone, magic was identical to decay, and those born with it were deemed as a threat, and doomed to be destroyed.
They must burn until the wind sweeps away their ashes.
"Your Majesty, magic is taboo." Reve remarked harshly and gestured at Ren, "It is a sin in the Seven Kingdoms, Reneira Dorient. You have brought disgrace upon the greatest house. Exile is the least of what you deserve if the people don't demand your incineration by the golden dragon." Her stepmother's words were sharp, and smudged with contempt, sending a chilling shiver down Ren's spine. There was no trace of pity, no hint of mercy in her voice, just cruel, brutal condemnation. Like a hex.
Aunt Eve's face flushed with anger as she witnessed the audacity of this woman, so willing to send Ren to her death with no grave to grieve on so quickly. "How dare you say that, Reveka Dorient? She is your daughter! My brother will show mercy!"
"Stepdaughter," Reveka corrected heartlessly, her tone sharp and dismissive.
The two women erupted into a heated argument, their voices rising with fury, while the King remained silent, deep in thought as he pondered a solution. But Ren wasn't sure she would receive any clemency at all. In despair, she sank to her knees before the King, her shoulders quivering with the weight of her shame. "Uncle Benkin," she whispered, her voice as serene as always but terrified, "I never wanted this. I only used it once, and I didn't even know. Please… just kill me here and bury me in a wasteland. It's a disgrace to House Dorient to have someone like me." She berated herself as much as she could.
Her eyes squeezed shut, and she braced herself, waiting for the cold steel of the King's sword to end it all. She couldn't bear the thought of being burned or exiled, this place, this family, was all she had, good or bad. Without it, she was nothing.
A heavy silence coated the throne hall for what felt like an eternity before the King's wicked chuckle echoed through the hall. "Killing you?" he mused, his voice laced with darkness as if she offended him.
Ren's entire body stiffened, a wave of dread crashing over her. Her gaze lifted to meet his flaring gaze, her blue doe eyes wide in disbelief, glowing like two stars caught in the dim light. Her cheeks blushed a deep red from the heat of her dread.
"I have a better use for you, Reneira," he continued smoothly, but his words severed flesh. Without a pause, he spun on his heel, his regal presence commanding the room as he cast a grave, threatening glare over everyone present. "If a word leaves this room, you'll be dead. All of you will burn by her side." His voice dropped to a low growl, the air thick with menace, as his deadly aura exuded like a palpable force, a warning that left no room for doubt.