Royal Games

Chapter 54

I'm greeted by two hooded figures pointing swords at me. I assume they must be the remaining assassins who were sent after me.

"Follow us." A female voice commands. All three of us know there's no point in me putting up a fight against them. They would win.

The assassins lead me out of my room and down the palace corridors. We don't pass a single other person on the way to our mystery destination, which strikes me as odd. The palace is usually bustling at this time of day.

Eventually, we stop outside the double doors to the throne room. The assassins pull the massive doors of carved opal open, before stepping aside. I enter the throne room for the first time in about six months.

My mum lounges on her throne, sipping from a golden goblet.

"Took you long enough." She says.

Behind me, the doors close with a thump. I glance back, seeing the assassins standing guard inside the room. I get the sickening feeling I've miscalculated the situation.

"Where are they?" I demand, my voice thankfully strong.

"In Traitor's Tower. Where else would you expect them to be?" She speaks to me like I'm a dumb child, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"What's the game?" I ask, tired of not understanding whatever has gone wrong between us. "How could a mother turn on her own daughter like this?"

"Your mother's dead, Alyssa." She drawls. Her smirk tells me she's enjoying the confusion and hurt that war across my face.

"You're lying." I whisper, not wanting her words to be true. Not understanding how they could be.

"I killed her a while ago. Her screams were a great treat." A chill crawls down my spine at her grin. "But you know what really surprised me? She tried to curse me with her last breath." A mocking laugh escapes her lips. "A curse? She never had any interest in dark magic. Perhaps we could've made a formidable team if only she'd been willing to learn sooner."

"Then who are you?"

"Haven't you guessed? I'm your mother's twin."

"Darcey?" I hiss.

"Good girl." She praises patronisingly.

"Why did you do it? Why do any of this?"

She pushes away from the throne, setting down her goblet, and slowly walks over to me. "My sister always got everything: wealth, power, adoration... I guess you could say I got jealous. And once I took my sister's place, I wanted more." She stops, an inch from my face. "I learnt of a prophesy concerning you, and I needed to get rid of you."

"But things didn't quite go to plan." I finished for her. I resist the urge to ask about the prophesy.

"My plan changed. But I have you now, don't I?" Darcey grips my chin roughly. Claws dig into flesh and I try not to wince. "And for forcing me to change my plans, I'm going to punish you before I kill you."

Her hand releases me. But, with a single claw, she traces her threats over my skin. She draws a straight line across my throat, then works her way up my left cheek. I can't stop myself shaking. Before I realise what's happening, her sharp nail pierces my flesh, slashing down my cheek. She cackles as I groan in pain.

"Enough playing games. I came here for a fight." I grit out.

"Aw. But you're a fun toy to torment." Darcey pouts. "Very well." She draws her sword. I draw mine. "First one to die loses." She says with a wicked glint in her eyes.

Her words create a lump in my throat. I'm a light-sider; I'm not interested in causing others pain, never mind killing them. I don't want blood on my hands, but spilling innocent blood would be so much worse than Darcey's. I've been mentally preparing myself for this for a while. She's even made it a little easier, letting me know my mum hasn't turned on me. She's the one who killed her. That being said though, Darcey is still family.

"Bring it on." I reply, steel in my voice.

Darcey attacks first. Springing forward quickly, trying to surprise me. I'm prepared. Metal echoes around the empty hall as my sword meets hers in defence.

I try a series of rapid attacks, feinting a few times. She blocks each one.

She tries to swing low, then high.

Our blades clash over and over. Back and forth. We dance dangerously around the room.

Grunts and heavy pants soon join the music our deadly instruments play.

Sweat glistens on Darcey's exposed skin, mirroring the warm moisture I feel on myself.

I gasp as her blade cuts across my thigh, holding back a scream. She pauses for a moment to grin, showing off her hungry teeth. Then we go right back to fighting again.

Not long after, I manage to swipe her side, ripping the thin fabric of her dress. If she's taken aback, she doesn't show it. She only seems to get angrier at me.

I may not like the political games I grew up around, but I did learn a lot about strategy. And, in this moment, I am grateful for that. Before, I was simply planning my sword movements. Now, a proper plan begins to take shape in my mind.

When people are angry, they are more likely to make mistakes. If I can really rile Darcey up, I could get under her guard to make the final strike. Or her anger could give her the energy and strength to kill me.

I decide to take a gamble on her rage.

"How does it feel knowing that, after all your meticulous plotting, I just might be the death of you?" I pant as our swords keep swinging.

"You're just a girl. You will tire. And slip up. And find that I will be the death of you."

"But how would you prefer I dispose of your lifeless body?" I ponder aloud. "I could burn you to ash. Or I could dump you in the sea. Or maybe I could bury..."

"I'm going to mutilate you." She snaps. "Then I'm going to cook the tiny pieces left of you and eat them for dessert. I might even serve some of you up to your friends."

It's hard not to blanche at her blunt gruesomeness, but I manage to stay focused on our blades. And my plan.

A minute later, a swipe of my blade leaves a thin trail of blood down Darcey's arm. She sees red. She charges at me, too fast for me to move out of the way. I land hard on my back, my breathe rushing out of me. Darcey lands on top of me, sword pressed against my throat.

This isn't exactly what I had in mind. I could plunge my own sword into her back, but she'd still slit my throat. Then we'd both be dead, and no one would win.

"Do you want to know how I caught Marco?" Darcey taunts. I stay silent, panting as I try to get my breathe back. "I used the Untouched Power." My eyes grow wide. "I think you meant to seal that book off with your own magic. But you were hasty. You left it open for blood relatives."

"No." I whisper. One more mistake I've made that has led to this point.

"Oh yes." She grins wickedly. "I used the spell, and that traitorous guard of yours had no choice but to tell me anything I asked. I think that was worse torture for him than when I was carving him up. He told me all about the plotting everyone seems to have been doing against me. Poisoning your father was only meant to draw you out of hiding, but I guess it's a fitting punishment too."

My mind scrambles for any way to gain the upper hand. If I can keep Darcey talking, could I...

Darcey shrieks as she topples sideways off my body.