Chapter Three.
Sierra's POV
My reflection stared back at me from the mirror. No scars, no marks. All my wounds had vanished, erased like they had never existed.
Frantic, I grabbed a small cloth and scrubbed at the layers I had applied earlier to hide the evidence.
Gone.
They were all gone.
Even the glowing mark on my chest had faded, now a faint trace that looked almost natural, as though it had always been a part of me.
I didn't have time to question the impossibility of it all. A sharp knock on the door jolted me back, and a maid entered, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
"King Kaelvar requests your presence in the meeting room, my lady."
"I'll be there shortly." Sliding my wedding band back onto my finger, I followed her down the hall, the mark still prickling faintly under my dress.
When I entered the meeting room, the gathered council turned to look at me. I was the last to arrive, and Kaelvar's expression told me I would regret it.
"How nice of you to finally join us, Sierra," he sneered, his voice filled with disdain.
I sat quietly at my designated place, but my mind wandered, fixating on the mark. How did it appear? Was it the intruder's doing? It made no sense… magic didn't run in my veins. Someone like me couldn't possess power.
"Sierra."
My name cut through my thoughts, and I realized everyone was staring at me again. Lady Vaelora, one of the elder council members, raised an eyebrow.
"What is your take?"
I swallowed hard, standing slowly. I had no idea what they were discussing, but I had to say something.
"I believe we should strengthen our soldiers," I said, my voice trembling but steady enough to carry across the room. "We should also scout the academy for individuals with the potential to fight on our behalf if war becomes inevitable."
The room was silent for a beat, and I could feel my pulse hammering in my chest.
Did I reply wrongly?
Then, Lady Vaelora nodded approvingly.
"That is a wise suggestion. Strengthening our defences will prepare us for any eventuality without rushing into unnecessary bloodshed, as some might prefer." Her gaze flicked briefly to Kaelvar.
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.
But Kaelvar's hand found my wrist beneath the table, his grip bruising as his nails dug into my skin. I flinched but bit down on the sound of pain rising in my throat.
"Is something the matter, Sierra?" Sir Kelft, another elder at the round table asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"No, nothing at all," I replied with a forced smile, ignoring Lady Vaelora's frown.
The rest of the meeting blurred into noise, and I zoned out, too focused on the throbbing ache Kaelvar left behind.
When the council finally dispersed, Kaelvar stood abruptly, his shadow looming over me.
"How dare you undermine me in my meeting?" His voice was hard with anger, his hand raised as if to strike.
I braced myself, closing my eyes against the inevitable. But it never came.
"Kaelvar!" Lady Vaelora's sharp tone snapped through the air as she gripped his arm, stopping him mid-swing.
"Do you think it's acceptable to strike your wife, my son?" she demanded.
"Um… it's…. Mam, I…" Kaelvar was short of words.
"I will take this as a lapse in judgment—something that has never happened before. Correct?"
Kaelvar's face twisted, but he forced a laugh. "Of course, Lady Vaelora. It was a joke, nothing more. Right, my queen?"
I nodded slowly, the lie sour on my tongue. "Just a joke."
Lady Vaelora didn't look convinced, her eyes lingering on me before she walked away.
Once we were alone, Kaelvar leaned in, his voice in a threatening whisper.
"You're utterly useless. You can't even carry a child, let alone birth one. What purpose do you serve here other than looking like a prize at my side?"
His words hit harder than any slap could. I felt my throat tighten, but I refused to cry in front of him.
"I can't even stomach lying next to you," he spat. "You're stiff as a corpse in bed, and I've had enough. Don't worry your pretty little self, though; I'll find my fun elsewhere."
He left without another word, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Two guards entered to escort me back to our chamber, their presence as suffocating as Kaelvar's.
Once alone, I pulled my dress down to stare at the faint mark on my chest. It glimmered faintly, a silent reminder of its strange power. Turning my wrist over, I inspected where Kaelvar's nails had left imprints.
Gone.
A curiosity burned in me, a need to understand the limits of this magic.
I opened the bedside drawer and retrieved a small knife from its hidden compartment, one I'd kept since the first night Kaelvar hit me. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the blade into my palm, wincing as blood welled up and dripped onto the floor.
But almost immediately, the glowing returned. The mark pulsed faintly as the wound closed itself, leaving no scar, no trace of what had happened.
I stared in awe at my hand, the pain forgotten.
Me. The girl who had never possessed even a spark of power in a kingdom that prized it above all else.
I returned the knife to its hiding place and collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion pulling at me.
How had it come to this? A loveless, abusive marriage. A life where I had to hide my pain and shield myself from my husband's rage.
I was the youngest and only daughter of a healer family in the Ivoryglint Kingdom, the smallest and least powerful of the seven kingdoms. My brothers had been my protectors, my world. I had been clever, mastering healing spells and potions b
efore I turned six. But none of that had mattered.
Not when I was powerless in every way that counted.