A shudder quivers through me.
"How do you know for sure I can trust Rhyland?" I whisper, hoping he can't hear me.
"Because he's the king," my mom replies simply. My heart sinks at her reasoning until she adds, "And because … Because he cares about you more than you know."
I want to argue with her, but I don't see the point. No matter what I say or do, I'll still be here. I'll still be the queen. Rhyland will still be king.
That doesn't mean I completely trust him.
After talking to my mom for a couple more minutes, we say goodbye and hang up. Then I linger at the back of the vehicle for a few more minutes before finally growing the courage to turn around and face my fate.
Rhyland is already waiting for me with his hand stretched out. "Ready?"
I nod, but I don't take his hand. "I guess as ready as I'll ever be."
He stares at me for a beat or two then lowers his hand disappointedly. "Come on then; let's go inside. It's getting early, anyway."
I nod, following him across the grassy field and heading toward the castle with a group of guards behind us, ready to throw down their lives if someone tries to attack me.
With every step I take, I move further away from my past and closer to my future.
Closer to my fate.
A deadly, dangerous fate.
12
I don't get a tour of the castle that night. Instead, Rhyland shows me the queen's chambers-apparently, he's been here before-telling me he'll give me a tour early tomorrow night when I wake up. Then he walks away without saying another word.
I don't bother looking around the room before I climb into bed, and the moment my body hits the mattress, sleep pulls me under. Right before I succumb to exhaustion, I swear I feel the soft brush of lips against my forehead, but it easily could've been my imagination. Or a ghost.
It's my fifteenth birthday, and I'm hiding out in my room from my family. Well, not so much my family, but from Nadine and her friends. She invited them to my party without permission, although I think my mom was relieved just to have some people show up. I think she may be starting to realize that her youngest daughter has no friends.
Music is filtering through the house from downstairs, the lyrics swirling and mixing with laughter. Everyone is so happy. Everyone but me.
I wish I could be happy, but the moment I step foot downstairs, either Nadine, Rhyland, or Kingsley will rip that happiness from me.
I flop back onto my bed, wishing I was someplace else. Wishing I was someone else. Wishing I didn't think that way. Wishing I could be happy just being me.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Come in," I call out, figuring it's my mom.
When the door opens, though, my mom isn't standing in the doorway. Rhyland is.
I sit up, my guard going up. "What do you want?" I loathe the nervous edge in my tone, but I can't help it.
His lips pull into a lazy smile as he enters my room, his gaze skimming the posters on my wall. "I wanted to come say hi."
"Hi," I mumble, watching his every movement, waiting for him to strike.
His eyes settle on me, and that lazy grins shifts into a full-blown grin. "Happy birthday, by the way."
"Thanks." I brace myself for the punch line that hasn't come.
Yet.
He takes a seat on my bed, sitting so close the sides of our legs touch. "You don't seem that happy."
"I'm happy enough," I lie, inching away from him.
He eyeballs the distance between us and steals it right back. "You know, I can tell when you're lying."
"No, you can't." Can he? He does have a lot of witches cast spells and charms for him. Maybe he had them put a mind reading spell on him.
"Yes, I can," he states matter-of-factly. "I always can."
I force down a shaky breath trying to flee my throat. "How?"
He winks at me. "It's a secret."
My nerves get the best of me and I shudder.
A crease forms between his brows. "You're afraid of me?"
"I'm not afraid." Liar. "I'm just nervous about why you're here in my room."
A ghost of a smile graces his lips. "To wish you a happy birthday." He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, a contemplative look crossing his face. "And to give you your birthday present." He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and retrieves a small black box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. "Happy birthday."
I don't take the present. "What's in it?"
He restrains a smile. "Open it and find out."
I don't want to. For all I know, when I open the box, a cloud of magic will poof into my face and I'll be cursed with bat-pox or something. But the longer I stare at the box, the more my curiosity gets the best of me.