I Of the Storm

Chapter One

"Of course." I nod my approval, my voice shallow and small. As I am shallow and small. Never have I been capable of being strong enough to lead a nation, and my father told me that. He told my mother. She ignored him and put her trust in me, and for that she was gone.

"Your Highness?" The boy asks, panic in his eyes. The view of him in front of me is blurry, as if seen through foggy glass. I release my teeth from each other as I realize they are clenched. He hands me a box of paper tissue, and I realize that tears are falling from my face. Drenching my face in salt and sorrow. Staining my cheeks in pain. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before reopening them. His face comes back into view, and I move my eyes to the floor, ashamed. Tears are for the weak. Not for royalty. Not for rulers.

I look up only when I feel something hot wrap around my fingers, his hand. His thumb rubs against the back of my palm, terror and pleading showcased in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save your mom." He whispers, his head hanging in shame. As he tries to pull his hands of fire from me, I hold on.

"Thank you," I sigh, letting the pieces fall into place. He saved my life, he saved me.

"Your hands are cold." He tells me, his eyebrows furrowing. "Do you want me to bring you more covers?" His eyes are caring and concerned, and watching his emotions play through them seem to captivate me. Yes, he is very interesting.

As the door swings open and the pasty woman comes through the door, we immediately drop each other's hands. I wipe my face with the back of my palm, despite the tissue box lying beside me. My hand tingles from the sudden withdrawal of heat. He clears his throat, jumping to his feet. The woman's eyes question him sternly.

"If you'll excuse me, I must get back to help father." He insists, his face pulling up in a small smile as he offers me his hand and I shake it. He kisses the woman on the cheek as I watch in astonishment that her skin does not peel away. He moves out of the door quickly and the woman's eyebrows pull together. She lets out a breath of air, before turning towards me.

"You must excuse him." She breathes, "He is, how do you say, missing marbles." She points to her head, and I almost laugh. Laughter is not something that have produced since I became Queen. She looks at me expectantly, as if waiting for something.

"Ma'am?" I ask, wondering what I missed.

"Are you coming?" She asks, as if I am the dumbest person the world.

"Oh!" I exclaim, mentally face-palming as I scramble out of the bed that has probably left bruising on my spine. One of my legs nearly give out on me and I catch myself by holding on to the railing attached to the bed. I notice my knee is wrapped in gauze, even so blood is still beginning to soak through it.

"Not too quickly." The woman says gently, though I catch her smirk as she turns away. I hold on to the walls as I follow her out of the door. When we enter the hallway, I almost stumble into the wall. For a split second, the walls are all a vibrant deep red and I can see my mother slumped against the corner along with all of whom I love and have promised to care for, but then the walls are just as painfully white as the room was. I struggle to try and keep up with the woman, who did not even stop when I gasped. She remained her pace, never slowing for my benefit or her own.

"Excuse me!" I exclaim when I'm sure I'll pass out if I go any further.

"Your Highness?" She asks, spinning around with an evil grin on her face.

"May I ask your name?" I ask, breathing heavily.

"Of course, Your Highness, I'm Head Owner Banks, but you can just call me Miranda."