Not My Fairytale

Chapter 7.2

I scanned the crowd again, listening to their eager voices ricochet off the stone buildings, itching for me to begin. I didn't need to exhibit my power over them, I needed to remind them of our similarities. "Good afternoon," I began, voice somber, but clear as it rang out over the square. The entire town seemed to hush at the sound. I could finally pinpoint the high-pitched whining of cameras on either side of the stage recording my every move. I would likely be broadcasted across the entire kingdom, but I did not let that dissuade my decision. I moved my line of sight upwards, towards the buildings sprawling behind the crowd and beyond.

I kept my gaze there, "My mother grew up in a town like this." I said it gently, matter-of-fact. I let the statement hang in the air, settling in. My eyes remained trained on the buildings behind them, trailing back and forth to take it all in. If I had to participate in this pageantry, I would commit to it fully. Behind me, I heard more cameras buzzing to life. "When I was a child, she would bring me there. Show me the house she was raised in, the bakery she had worked sixty hours a week in to support her family, and the square she had watched her father whipped to death in." At that, I finally lowered my gaze, casting a meaningful look to the barely recognizable wooden square I had noticed while I studied the crowd, cut to be completely flush with the stone of the street around it– the remnants of a whipping post. A reminder that my family had suffered through the same oppression as theirs. I risked a glance sideways at Lance, the head of my security detail, whose eyes were wide as saucers at my deviation from the speech he had meticulously rehearsed with me on the ride here. Sorry, Lance. But I had their attention now. I let the practiced speech slip from my mind. The square had become so silent, that I was willing to bet even the humans, with their dulled senses would be able to hear a pin drop. It was no wonder why; my mother's past had never been public knowledge. They were hungry for more information, hanging on my every word. But, it was not my story to tell.

I changed directions, "Someone attacked your town." I studied them once more, watching their reactions, making eye contact with as many as I could. "They crept in under the cover of darkness, hiding like rats in the walls. They attacked you in your pubs, in your homes, in your beds. They are nothing but cowards." I spit the last part, eyes flashing. "Cowards who must rely on the element of surprise to attack unarmed, unsuspecting people where they sleep. We do not yet know who they are, or where they came from. But, I do know this: we will not rest until they are found and brought to justice." I knew that I must be a sight, the palace raised princess standing in her finery, glittering in the sunlight like a living crystal, spitting harsh words at my hidden enemies. I wondered how many of those enemies were watching me speak, either from their televisions or here in the audience, a wolf in sheep's clothing. I wondered if they were amused, watching the small woman, barely older than a teen, speaking grandly of taking them down. Let them be amused. They did not know of the strength hiding beneath the jewels and silks, just waiting for the right time to be unleashed. Nobody knew. As far as the kingdom was concerned, I could have no ability to change form at all, taking completely after my mother.

Weak.

To look powerful is to be powerful, I mused again, allowing my eyes to scan the sea of glinting eyes, searching for any sign of malintent, but to look weak is to hold the advantage.

They'll never see me coming.

I spoke for several more minutes, speaking as honestly as I could. I needed to make a connection to these people, even if it was a small one. After a while, I called up the town's mayor, handing him newly drawn up blueprints for the restoration the crown had already begun. Finally, I offered my sincerest apologies to the families and friends of those affected by the attack on behalf of the entire royal family.

When I finished, the echoes of my voice still dancing across the square, there was only a moment's pause. Then, suddenly the crowd erupted in applause, so loud and abrupt that I had to quickly mask the surprise from my face. They call out to me, some even so brazen as to press up against the wall of bodies my security detail had formed before me, as if they planned to touch me. I offered them a small smile, trying not to give away just how elated I was at the apparent success of my speech. A huge weight lifted from my shoulders, but I was not done just yet.

I hardly spared a glance at Lance before I descended from the stage and confidently sidestepped my guards, entering the throng of people. I could feel my security following close behind me, just as I could still feel the cameras still trained on my face as I allowed myself to be swallowed by the crowd, trying not to give any outward sign of discomfort as I felt a dozen hands touching me at once. My guards kept close, trying hard to keep the eager humans at a distance, but I offered them no help. Instead, I reached my hands out past the guards, allowing them something to grasp onto. I shook as many hands as I could, fighting back the grimace as I felt myself pulled in every direction. I knew it was likely only by my inhuman strength that they hadn't torn me apart yet– or trampled me in their excitement. I could almost feel the anxiety radiating from my guards, but I paid them no mind. To hold the people is to hold the power, and for today, I hold the people. The thought filled me with a giddy sort of joy.

Our little group moved in a crawl as we fought against the crowd to get back to our transports. A woman held out her baby to me. I hesitated only a moment before taking the infant from her arms, careful to shield him from the crowd. I pressed a quick kiss to his brow and whispered a blessing over him before passing him back to his mother. She shifted him to one arm, catching my hand with her free hand, and giving it a squeeze. "Thank you, Princes. God bless." Before I could say anything, she was swept away in the wriggling mass of bodies.

The crowd thinned out the farther from the city center that I got. Thankfully, I thought, for even with my practice in such situations, I was beginning to feel claustrophobic from being squeezed between so many bodies. By the time we made it back to the ruins from the attack, the crowd was thinner than it had even been on our walk into town. It was so thin that I noticed something that I had not earlier. "Lance."

Less than a second later, he was beside me, the rest of the guards shifting to fill the gap left by his absence. He said nothing, only nodding for me to give him an order. I didn't. "Do you see that?"

Scrawled on the side of the charred remains of a brick wall were words– words that at first appeared to just be graffiti. The wall was one of the few left standing in the entire wreckage. As we neared, I saw "BLOOD FANGS" scrawled in large, blood red lettering. The writing caused the hair on the back of my neck to raise. "Yes, Princess."

"Is that in the official records for the attack?" I eyed the words as we passed. I had no idea what they meant, but something about them made me wary. It almost looks like one of the gang tags I've seen scrawled across countless buildings in the capital, but this was not any gang I had heard of– and the tag was too intact. It was done after the attack.

"I'm not sure, Highness." His dark grey eyes scanned the words, the red standing in stark contrast against the charred wall.

"Take note of it for later." I murmured the command, but he bowed his head obediently anyway. I paid him no mind, skin still crawling and brain still spinning as the transports came into view.

Somehow, I felt just the smallest step closer to solving this mystery.

~*~*~

Thoughts?

Is she grasping at straws here or do you think she's onto something?