After partly avenging her mother's death, Evette Star, the illegitimate daughter of an elven king, sets off on a warpath to find the adversary of her people.
The human King in the West, Dracul Dregoth, has locked himself away in a stone tower for r...
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Arwin took one long look at his Maria. It was a strange feeling he felt, the momentary, paralyzing shock. He never would have thought that his daughter could make such a bloody mess. She was vengeful, but he never knew it would get this bad. How was he supposed to write this off? How would those in the kingdom react?
As her father stared blankly, Evette bent down to retrieve the belt sheath from the floor, before she took off running toward her quarters.
With a slow beat, a fast beat, and then a skipped beat, Evette could feel the adrenaline. It pounded through her veins and invaded her bloodstream like she had never felt before.
Eve ran, her clunky boots hitting the stone floor in rapid succession. She heard loud voices call after her; it was soon after she reached her chambers, that she could feel the vibration of castle guard's pounding footsteps get closer and closer to her by the second.
Evette scrambled to find clothes that she could shove in her large satchel. A thick layer of dust had accumulated on the bag that she had stored underneath of her bed. She grabbed essentials, and practically skipped over to her dresser to retrieve her favorite hair pin. She only wore it on the days she felt like it. Clipping the pin to her lapel, Eve paused when she was reminded of the necklace that sat neatly at the bottom of her small river rock jewelry plate. A small wooden cross wrapped in twine, silver strands of wire wrapped around the pendant nicely and made up the circular clasp.
The necklace Evette glanced at was hers, but she never put it on. Her deceased half brother had made it for her as a gift. It was beautiful, but she didn't feel like it was right to wear. Argyle was the first, and only member of his family to become religious. He always kept it a secret, but Evette had seen him praying on the nights he felt helpless, or the long winter mornings just before the war commenced. Evette used to believe that his prayer had always protected her from the wrath of her stepmother, but judging as her body was now sprawled out on the floor of the dining hall, Eve realized that it wasn't god who protected her all those years. She was simply lucky.
In silence, Eve heard the screams of her subconscious. She would give anything to know the truth. Arwin blurted something that confused her mind and clouded her judgment. She didn't know the full story, or the reason why the king killed the mother of his daughter, but Evette knew that she was too far gone to know. It didn't matter what her father would say, Topaz was still gone. She was still dead and buried six feet deep.
A killer, a king's daughter that wasn't really ever loved, a criminal on the run, was what Evette was now. Could she make it past the guards, and out of the castle with her heart still beating? No, the odds were against her, but Noel was out there. He was leaving, and every second Evette wasted reminiscing, he was getting further away. She had one chance, the odds were a million to one, but there was still a sliver of hope left. Eve was willing to sacrifice her chance at ever knowing the truth. She was going to go find the one person she still had left. The only one she dared to care for. The only one that cared for her in return.
