We Promised

Chapter 14

I stand numbly in front of the mirror as the maids fix me up once again. The cycle is tedious, the repetitive routine of getting dressed up for the country. It's tiring the more I know I can leave this life whenever I want. Henrick is motionless in the corner, scanning over battle plans and folders on the Sons of the Court who are coming for their two brides. I'm only eighteen and I'm being held up in court for marriage. What kind of sick twisted game is this?

The dress I have on is dark crimson today, like Father's cloak. Black lace lines the neck, a plunging cut dipping sharply to my belly button. My hair has impossible waves, difficult to achieve, curling around my crown, with intricate braids to top it all off. My makeup is flawless with cheekbones that can cut and eyes lined so sharply knives would be envious. I look impossibly perfect and I want more than anything to rip everything to shreds. One wrong move and one of my breasts will fall out for the entire world to see. My back feels bare and I'm showing so much skin that I feel naked. I feel like a sex object, a whore like my father described me to be.

I turn to Henrick, and he pays no attention to me. "Henrick, you're supposed to be keeping me sane," I state, irritated. He glances at me, finally noticing what I'm wearing. His eyes widen to the size of saucers. "Don't stare," I hiss. I frown and he shakes his head. "Sorry, I just-. That's very revealing, Ilvera," he stutters. "You think I want to wear this? It's my father's orders." He scowls. "I'm sure it was." I groan and he smiles. "It's not that bad. I mean you look pretty but you're going to get a lot of male attention. Take it from me as your friend. I'm being kind." I sigh and hold the bridge of my nose. "I can't go out looking like this. I'm practically naked." I fight the urge to break down and cry. We fall into an uneasy silence and he fights to look at the dress again, at me. "You're ridiculous, cretin." He rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head. "I can't help it. It's second nature to look, especially when you look like that." I smile and he laughs at the sight of it. A wave of anxiety tries to drown me and I take deep, even breaths. "Who do you think will come out the strongest?" I'm grateful for his change of topic.

Right now the Sons of the Court Council are being placed in an arena to display who is strongest for the throne. Then, we will all meet for the selection at a ball. Before the ball, there will be a formal dinner where the selection is going to be announced. The ball, I'm not looking forward to, especially in this dress. I'm not happy about any of this. But, what can I do? "Ilvera, you do know you're supposed to be at the selection match right?" I scowl, grinding my teeth together. "I'll arrive when I want." He follows my eyes, landing on the folders filled with background information about the candidates. "I've known all those boys since I was a child," he says. I nod, running my finger down the beige cardboard. "So have I."

Guards burst through the doors and seize me by the arms. His guards. "Let me go!" I shriek, jamming my elbows into their noses. They peel back like the eels they are. More rush in and drag me through the corridors. We head towards the stairs, pulling me with them up three flights of steps. I see the door to the viewing box appear, and no matter how much I want to run away, it gets closer and closer. They hold me still in front of the entrance to the box and I can feel eyes prying through the wood of the door. "Presenting Ilvera Fleuri Oxuris! Second heir to the throne!" Lies, I think. It's all lies. Blayne would be the second heir because Corbin is dead but he's a man. He should be king because he deserves it. He has the mindset and the goals of a leader. But, nothing will change without sacrifice and a lot of murder. I'm willing to do both.

I stumble inside the viewing box with my siblings and my father. The first thing that hits me is the smell of blood, the metallic stench making my stomach turn. The jumbo screen has my face on it, pale even with the layers of makeup caked on my skin. All eyes turn to my arrival and bile begins to rise in my throat. If Evelyn's hands hadn't found mine, I would have hurled in front of everyone. She takes her seat on her throne and I sit on mine, hers more grand than mine will ever be. "Greetings princess," the stadium announcer projects, her voice bouncing off the walls. All of the sons stare at me from down below except for two of them. Both are stretching and preserving energy, looking over at the jumbo screen for a glance. Intelligent move, my mind whispers. I'm relieved to know that there are two fewer idiots in the batch of candidates I'm supposed to marry.

I've seen past matches for past queens, including my mother's. I haven't seen any heirs as focused as these two, not even my father when he competed. I didn't bother to see who was in the batch of suitors beforehand. I didn't think I was getting married so I didn't care. It was Evelyn's problem alone to study who she was going to marry. But now, I wish more than anything that I had studied them because I don't know what I'm getting into. They could be abusive and violent, the very thing I want to get away from so badly. They could be nonchalant and absent in my children's lives. I don't want that for myself. I don't want that for my future kids if I ever have any. I've known these boys since we were children, yes, but it's been years. I have no idea what they're capable of.

The names of the tributes are announced but her voice is faint in my head. My mind floats on a cloud of anger. My shoes are suddenly an image of interest, and I'm extremely aware of how rigid my spine has gotten. If I straighten anymore, I fear my vertebrae will snap in half. Instinct forces me to wear the posture of a royal. I must ignore my feelings and I must ignore what is going on in my head. If I don't, Father will kill me without a second glance. I'm sure of it. Don't let them see, Ilvera. They don't deserve to see it.

A sickening snap sucks me back into the present. The battle has been going on for quite some time but I haven't heard anything as disturbing as that. I lean over the railing. A man lays limp in the arena being lifted to the sidelines, not the medical wing. "Father! He needs help!" His face is uncaring, unbothered. "Father, please," I beg, my voice wavering. He only watches the screen without feeling. "They were given power pills. They'll be fine."

"You what?!" Blayne exclaims. Father hardens at Blayne's tone and I glare at my father. "They need to be pushed to their full potential while keeping their safety in mind. Anyone who takes the pill, it has been discovered, that immortality for forty-eight hours takes place and...," he pauses. Panic creeps up on me from behind, threatening to snap my neck. I'm eager for him to finish. "The powers are permanent depending on if the blood cells mutate."

"What?" My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. The men finally have power. This will shock the nation, this will change everything. "It ensures strength for the kingdom to come." I sit back down in my seat and compose myself quickly, the screen flickering to me. I don't look at it and instead look at Evelyn, who gives me an encouraging smile despite the odds of our predicament. I understand now, the weight she has been put under. She protected her siblings from the throne. But, she couldn't shield us from the wrath of the people behind it. She couldn't protect us from our parents.

Sirens conclude the match, loud and obnoxious. I'm the first out of my seat. Lord Mandos's grip is firm on my arm, tight and bruising. He shoves me past the double doors roughly. I hope the country sees, the evil and malice he has towards his children. "You will wear this dress to the choosing and that's final," he says coldly. He mutters as he walks away but I overhear him. "If only she had died that month. Could have saved me the trouble." Tears threaten to fall but I clench my jaw, forcing them to stay. I should be used to his words by now but I can never tune to his ways, his thoughts, his treatment. They linger like poison, killing me slowly. "Ilvera, I'm sorry. I-I tried to stop him." I scoff. "There's nothing we can do now! Now that we're his little pets, pawns in a throne he thinks is his, were lost. We won't ever get out of this, Evelyn. You're a puppet for him," I snap and she frowns, her composure chipping away. Blayne finds me in the crowd of Sentinels and rears back like he's been punched in the face. "Vera, what are you wearing? Go change." He wrinkles his nose in distaste and I resist the urge to deck him right here in the corridor. I'm not in the mood for jokes. "Father said so," I mumble, shoving past him.