Not My Fairytale

Chapter 35

He chuckled at the expression on my face, his head tilting to the side, "You don't like Trials Week, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, no," I told him, before adding, "no one in my family does."

He stepped closer, but I shuffled to keep space between us. Not because I didn't trust him, but because I couldn't trust myself. "And why is that?" He asked, ever curious. "I would have expected your family to be rather fond of it. Your grandfather did walk away the victor, after all."

I grimaced, tearing my gaze from his as I strode past him to settle on the ground at the base of the willow. "For your information, that is not something that we take particular pride in. Many powerful bloodlines ended that week." The concept of The Trials themselves had been genius in its cruelty. To ensure a smooth joining of so many separate packs into one, all other alphas powerful enough to pose a true threat were killed off before they had a chance to plan rebellion in a contest that they consented to. The families of the defeated alphas fled the continent in fear of my grandfather and only one alpha bloodline was left standing.

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling–  or from chuckling, I couldn't tell which. "My mate, always full of surprises."

~*~

On the fifth day, my family was scheduled to attend a parade in the capital, ending in a dramatic reenactment of the fights. Desperate to avoid rewatching the same play that I was forced to endure every year, I came up with my own afternoon activity.

"A museum opening?" My father had asked days prior when I had joined him for tea in his study to attain his permission.

"Yes," I replied casually, lifting the cup to my lips, "a museum dedicated to The Trials. I thought it would be fitting for a member of our family to attend."

    My answer seemed to satisfy him. He gave me a curt nod, "Very well, I'll notify Lance of your plans. They'll expect some kind of speech from you, we'll have to begin preparing that."

    I nodded back, having expected as much.

    And so, as my parents departed for the capitalon that sunny, Friday afternoon, Lance and I climbed into our own transport accompanied by a small retinue of guards. Redfare was nearly two hours from the castle, but I welcomed the long ride if it meant being excused from the performance in the capital.

    "I'd ask if you would like to rehearse your speech, but I have a feeling you won't stick to the script anyway." Lance teased from the seat across from mine.

    I shrugged with a smirk, "Your instincts are not often wrong."

    The rest of the ride passed by in comfortable silence.

    As the transport rolled to a stop, my attention flew to the window. A crowd was gathered, parted by small fences with a few meters left empty in the middle, all eyes trained on our vehicle. At the end of the open walkway, stood a tall, stone building. It was larger, and more grand than I had expected, but there was no mistaking that I was in the right place.

    The driver held the door open, and I exited the transport, Lance following a few steps behind. The crowd cheered at the sight of me, adorned in my violet gown, with a fortune in diamonds and amethysts at my neck and braided into my curled hair.

    I smiled at their enthusiasm, lifting a hand to wave as the first deafening boom sounded.

    My hand froze in the air, looking around for the source of the sound in time with the suddenly very quiet audience.

    My eyes finally spotted the plume of smoke rising around the side of the building, when the world exploded around me.

The onlookers closest on either side were knocked from their feet. I struggled to keep my own feet on the ground, but had to catch myself on a knee, squeezing my eyes shut to protect them from debris and dust.

A moment later, I pried them open once more, squinting against the smoke in the air. I could feel the shock of several more explosions, though I couldn't hear them through the loud ringing in my ears.

My head swung wildly, searching for the threat, but was only met with another explosion, this one from before me, sending my body stumbling back.

All around me, people were lying injured and bleeding, but my gaze was focused on the dozens of pieces of paper raining down from the sky.

As they settled on the ashy ground at my feet, I caught a glimpse of what they held. The first I saw was a crude illustration of a woman screaming in agony, drawn and quartered by hooded figures. A tiara was drawn atop her head. At the bottom of the page was a simple phrase: 'A welcome fit for a princess.'

A second page settled on the ground beside me, this one was a list of names. I recognized them all immediately.

It was a list of humans with high-ranking positions in our government, each scratched out in an ugly red ink that looked suspiciously like blood. I couldn't tear my eyes from the names, reading through each individual one, until I found my mother's name, second to last at the bottom of the page.

Below it, with several of those gnarly red slashes through it was another name.

'Giuliana DiLuna'

~*~*~

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