VICTORIA COMES UP to me instead of embracing her children first. Her hand goes to my forehead, like I miraculously now have a fever after my run. She touches my leg, but I move it away, getting back on my feet. Atticus stays on the ground, holding his leg. I needed to find him a first aid kit.
I limped my way to the kitchen without saying anything, grabbing the fit aid kit from the cupboard, which was in the same location as when I was a kid. I limped back and crouched down beside my old friend, telling him to stretch his leg out.
"Heal your cut first," he said, wincing as he did. He was trying to put a brave face on but he couldn't. I grabbed the scissors in the kit and cut open the fabric of his pants.
"You have a fucking bullet in your leg, and I know exactly how to take it out," I say, my voice stern. "A scratch in my leg is nothing compare to this. I could stitch it back easily." I turned to Lysander. "Do you have any painkillers. This is gonna hurt."
Aurora moved closer, hovering over my shoulder. "Can I ask a question?" she asked, curious and innocent. She had a couple fingers in her hand mouth. "Why is his blood the colour of milk?"
I looked down at the injury and the hands I forgot to glove. The sticky substance was white, not red, like most others. I glanced up at the clock, the longer hand ticking past twelve. October first. I looked back down at the blood, then up at Atticus' face.
"I could do this myself," he said, reaching for the tools.
I kept it away from him, and grabbed the scalpel. Lysander handed Atticus the pills and a glass of water, which he took without force. Before starting, I glared at the audience, my expression telling them to walk away.
"What about my question?" Aurora asked, her eyes wide.
I sighed, knowing I didn't to say something. "You see, sometimes, some people's blood turns a different, weird colour. It's normal for them, but if it happens to you, you're going to tell your mommy and daddy, okay?"
She nodded, accepting that answer, and skipped away into the next room.
I focused my attention on Atticus and his wound. He winces as I touch his skin, so I take my time. It's quiet for the longest time as I open up the wound and search for the bullet. This was never an easy task, and he should probably get someone else to check it after. I should do for now.
Then again, how was he going to explain the colour of his blood to anyone else...
"You aren't going to ask anything about it?" he asks just then, leaning against the wall. "You aren't going to question me on why my blood is about a hundred shades lighter than the average human being."
I stretched my leg out. "That explanation for you would be the same for why mine is about a hundred shades darker than the average human being." The cut on my thigh now spilled black liquid. I bit my lip, trying to find the next words. "I'll... I'll explain later, please. This is going to feel weird."
I grabbed the tweezers and pulled the bullet out of his leg and placed it aside. It too was covered in the white, sticky substance of Atticus' blood. We stayed silent as I stitched his leg back up, putting care with each stitch. He was going to have a bad limp after this.
"Done," I say, tying it off.
He grabbed another set of tweezers and a needle. "Now you turn. I was telling you, I could have stitched myself up myself. I have skills too." He works with a needle and thread carefully. I told him I didn't need anything to numb the pain, and honestly, it truly was nothing. He does the stitches quickly but neatly, and we both help each other get up.
We both limp to the next room, leaving the mess of blood stains and the first aid kit on the ground. That could be someone else's problem now. I moved as fast I could, storming into the room and found myself face to face with the king of Noatra.
I pulled the amulet out from under my sweater and tossed it to him. "Here you go. I think you'll need it."
He looked at the jewel in shock. "You - how - this was locked up." He got out of his seat, standing in front of me. "No one has access to the tower. No one. And you go in there and take this out. Do you know how much damage this is going to do?"
"It won't do as much damage as your family already did," I growled, clenching my teeth. "That's your first question, but you don't question how I manage to hold that without any scars on my hands. You question the name I gave you at my trial but don't but the pieces together."
"The Covington line is dead."
"But just because a last name is dead doesn't mean a bloodline is," I yelled, my voice growing louder and louder each time. Everyone else in the room doesn't butt into the argument, question what's going on. Good. "Just because your family didn't want to keep track of what happened to the other heirs, doesn't mean they all died."
"I don't think you're allowed to use that tone of voice with me, Vera." He speaks my name it was poison. Then again, it was the first time he used my real name.
"Your ancestors stole my ancestors' kingdom. Your family killed the other heirs, expecting their kids to die off. Your do know that we can't die, right?" My breathing becomes heavy. "You and me and Atticus, we're basically immortal until we produce an heir. You and me and Atticus are supposed to be three of the rulers of six kingdoms, yet you are on the throne. You have the power. Your family took the kingdoms, and you didn't bat an eye on what might happen when the stars align, and the red amulet is in the black castle, and the other castles and kingdoms are in ruins, the amulets gone."
The king stays silent, but he's listening.
"Your still and king, but you sit on a throne fo lies."
"And you're saying you secured your position as queen by killing your mother," the king finally says. Silence falls in the room.
It takes me a second to collect my thoughts. "My reasons for killing my parents are none of your concern. If anything, that information should be between me and my siblings." I throw a quick glance to Lysander and Victoria, but their expressions were unreadable.
"So what do you want? My kingdom? Everyone thinks you're a criminal. You are a criminal," the king states again. "You think they're going to bow down to a murderer. And on top of that, a girl? Take your chances, Vera Carmicheal."
"We live in a world of magic, and October just happens to be out most sacred month. And centuries of tradition mean nothing now, because we're heading into the anniversary blindly. You're willing to risk all of this so you can stay as king?"
"This kingdom is rightfully mine."
I gritter my teeth. "No, it isn't."
"ENOUGH!" Victoria finally yells. Both the king and I turn to her. "Everyone's tired. You guys probably don't know what you're talking about, and I surely don't know what going on. We can deal with this in the morning. Everyone go to bed." She turns to Atticus, painting a kind smile. "You're welcome to stay over too, Att. I don't think you should be on that leg too much."
I backed away from the king. I said what I needed to say tonight, and that's what matters. The king knows who I am, and he should know what I was capable of. Of course, I was just a girl, but that should mean nothing.
I head upstairs, furious.
Maybe it was the magic in the air, but my blood boiled. Years of tradition didn't matter with what's going to happen. The stars will align with no amulets to contain the power it'll give the kingdoms - or kingdom. It'll be too much.
But considering that magic has been dormant for as long as the ruler of Coronam ruled Noatra, maybe it'll be nothing. Maybe the kingdoms and the magic and that part of the history didn't matter anymore. We'd just live as one kingdom, no magic required.
Once in my room, I slam the door. The bang was probably heard throughout the house, and I wouldn't be surprised if Victoria came up to me room sooner or later.
Turned out, she was back in here - or maybe it was a servant. A bunch of Tori's old clothes laid on my neatly made bed - kind of useless considering that if I wasn't being dragged back to the dungeon, I'd be sleeping back in that bed again. I pulled off my dirty, bloodied clothing and tossed them aside, changing into a clear pair of pajamas. I bunched up my dirty hair and put it in a messy bun on the top of my hair.
This time, when looking in the mirror, I paid attention to my features. I was skinny as hell, and could probably be mistaken for a twig. I saw my bone through my skin, which probably wasn't a good sign, despite girls wanting to be this skinny. Dark circles were coloured under my eyes, though it might as well be because it was getting late. I was exhausted. Everything hurt. If I could fall asleep and wake back up in three years, that would be great.
I stumbled into the bathroom, and the second I reached the toilet, I threw up.
There goes whatever food I had in my system.
"Vera? You good?"
I creaked open the bathroom door, seeing Atticus outside. I growled as I flushed the toilet and washed my mouth. "Haven't you heard about knocking? What if I was naked?"
"I've seen you naked before," he said, matter-of-factly, like that was going to help his scenario. He leaned against the vanity, his leg bent awkwardly. He wasn't in his uniform anymore, probably borrowing something from Lysander - a white t-shirt and shorts. Ugh, and he still looked half-decent.
But this wasn't the time for that. "That was by accident. And plus, ten years ago I wasn't even... developed."
"Hm... you've got a point. Now you have boobs and-"
"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked, cutting off his sentence. I walked back into my room, closing the bathroom door behind me. Were all teenage boys like that, trying to sexualize every girl they see? Jeez, I'm glad I didn't have to go through any of that in high school. Yet, there goes another part of my life that I missed.
Atticus bit his lip. "Oh right, my lovely girlfriend is probably worried sick about me right now. News probably broke out about the invasion, right? It wasn't particularly quiet." He was right. People probably noticed the constant gunfire. And eventually, it would be reported to police and media stations in the city. "I should give her a call eventually."
"Yeah..." My voice breaks. "When did you guys start dating, anyway?" I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from him. Call me a stalker, maybe, but even trapped against my will, I wanted to keep updated on whoever cared about me. I didn't want to lose the connection, even if it was bound to break.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Uh, it must have been the beginning of grade eleven. I've been meaning to make the first move for a while and, well, I just got the right opportunity..." his voice trailed off. "I'm sorry about how she treated you..."
I shook my head slightly. "You don't have to be. She doesn't either. She just acted like she should have when she sees someone like me - a criminal. I told Lys and Tori this was going to be a mistake. Did they listen? No."
"But you-"
"But what?" I asked, not letting him continue. "She only ever knows me as a criminal. Third grade was so long ago that we're not those people anymore. She wanted to keep herself safe from possible harm, and unfortunately for me, I'm the harm."
I notice him twitch his leg in pain. "You're welcome to sit, you know," I said as I pushed back my hair. "Or not. It's getting pretty late. Maybe you should head to bed, you know." My eyes peered to the window and the stars outside. The memory of the note being on it hours ago made my heart leap.
He knows where I live. He knows where I live. He knows where I live.
I'm not safe. I'm no safe. I'm not safe.
Atticus seems to notice my expression. "You seem paranoid, what's wrong? They didn't follow you here, Vera. You're safe. Everyone's safe. The mansion has guards too, positioned outside." He does take my word and takes a seat on the bed, propping his leg up. I take a seat next to him, back against the headboard. "I wanted to talk to you for a bit, if you don't mind."
That made me worried, butterflies filling my stomach. "About what?"
Atticus played with the end of his shirt. He always used to get fidgety when he was nervous, and that probably didn't change since he was a kid. I mean, who doesn't fidget when they're nervous? "Your argument with the king. The kingdoms."
I broke eye contact with him, looking down, staying silent. I mean, at least I was able to kind of talk to him about it.
He drew in a deep breath. "Vera, you're a queen."
"I don't feel like one," I mumbled, sinking deeper into my bed. "I don't even want the kingdom, if I'm being honest."
His eyes grew, shocked by my words. "You don't."
I shook my head, crossing my arms. "I don't want to be queen. I don't want the responsibility. I don't want the pressure. But I keep mentioning it because the only think I want is to not be locked up. If I survive the month without having to be on a throne, I'll be glad." I paused, collecting my thoughts. The thought of being in charge of the country... that was terrifying. "H-how much do you know about the six kingdoms, anyway."
He shrugged. "As much as your parents were able to teach me before they... died. I know the origin story of the kingdoms, the bloodlines and the heirs. The war almost two centuries ago. I know of the legends about our rule and-"
"Hold up," I say, processing his words. "My parents? What about your mother? She didn't say anything to you about your family?"
He shook his head. "Either she doesn't want to tell me or it was my father who's supposedly royal and didn't tell anything to my mother. He was never in my life anyway..." Atticus paused. He never liked to talk about his father, which he never knew. That didn't change either.
The silence stays in the air for a bit. I could hear the wind howl outside, branches swaying in the wind causing shadows to enter parts of my room. "The legends..." I hated them. I hated all of them. Because whatever orcales were used to predict the future, they all predicted me. My birth. My rule. A queen stripped of her throne. I hated it. I did my best so none of them came true. But I was trapped in a fate set for me a millennium ago. "We shouldn't try to follow them, Atticus."
"Why not? I mean-"
"Why not?" I repeated. "Why not? You should be the one against this, Atticus. You have a girlfriend. You do know what legend says about us, right?" I'm blunt. I don't hide anything. "Because Att, you shouldn't be dating her knowing what happens at the end, if it actually happens. You should be happy, Att. You can't let the legends control your life."
But it continues to eat at mine. I can't ignore it, but he can.
He bit his lip. There's something going through his head but I don't exactly know what. He shifts his position on the bed, sitting next to me, back against the headboard too. "This feels like old times, kind of. You remember when we used to have sleepovers and talk way past our bedtimes?"
He changes the topic too easily...
"Okay, next question. Please stop me if you get uncomfortable. Or tired," he explains. The smallest smile creeps on my lips as he says that. Maybe not all teenage boys were horrible.
His injured leg rests on my leg, which is keeping it up. Atticus continues. "Do you think you can control magic?"
It's an odd question, but I get where he's coming from. "Magic is dormant. It has been since the war, since the castles and kingdoms fell and the amulets have been out of place. Why would you ask about something that isn't possible."
"Come on, we both carry genes for magic. It's in us. Even if it's dormant, its still there," he said, matter-of-factly. "And if there's one person who could access it, it's going to be you. It has to be you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Me? Why me?"
He elbowed me. Good to know that even if his leg was fucked up, the rest of his body was still capable of leaving a bruise. "Don't act stupid. Fine, whatever, you don't believe in the legends. You should realise that you were born to be the most powerful ruler the six kingdoms have ever seen. Your eighteenth birthday - the one where your become an adult and it supposedly when magic in those who posses it is matured - is the same day the stars align with the kingdoms. That's already a big occasion. You do know that there are no other recorded births that line up, ever?"
I gave him an odd look. "You do know a lot more than I thought. Also, I always told everyone my birthday was a week before it actually was. How'd you know-"
"Your mum let me know. That's why you always get your gift a week after everyone else, Vera. I'm not actually forgetful."
I giggled. Looking around the room, there were pieces of his gifts around. One of the stuffed animals, that was from him. There were a couple books on the shelf from him. Cards? They were all probably in the desk drawer. I had a hard time throwing out anything.
"You think I can control magic? When we've all moved passed that and into a world of technology?"
"You never know, Vera."
"You're crazy, Atticus."
"That's what you used to love about me, Vera. All my crazy ideas and theories."
I rolled my eyes. "We were kids. We lived in our imaginations."
"And tell me, why did we stop? Why should we?"
I groaned. "Atticus, you're impossible, because I have no idea how to respond to that. And either way, even if I could control magic, I don't think I'd want to."
This time, he groaned. "You don't want anything, do you?" He looked like he was about to say something else, but he stopped himself.
I closed my eyes. I knew exactly what life would be like for me if magic was still around, if my family still ruled Noatra. Everyone knew I would have been the strongest with magic. If I actually had magic, I'd be in the same place I was a couple days ago... no, last night. I'd be in a cell. But probably under better conditions.
Whatever scenario I ended up in, I's always be confined. People were scared of me, whether or not I was the good guy.
"Why do we keep talking about me, when you're a king too, Atticus," I say, trying to divert the attention. "You have a kingdom."
"It's in ruins. Hardly anyone knows of its existence, since the history of the six kingdoms were taking out of the school curriculum, the books were burnt, and was replaced with some bullshit about about Coronam's ruler taking over from the evil rulers of the past. Auxilium isn't a kingdom, so I can't be a king."
There's a soft knock on the door and Tori's head pokes through the doorway. She's in her baby blue nightgown, holding Annalise. "Hey, you two, go to bed. It's almost one in the morning. Tomorrow is probably going to be a long day. Or at least dim the lights and then continue talking."
I yawn, finally feeling the tiredness again. "Sure, whatever Tori. Att, do you want me to pull out the other mattress I could sleep on it if you want and you could take the bed, if walking back is too much of an issue."
"Vera, your bed is huge. I think we'll be fine without the mattress," he said. "Don't worry, I'll keep my hands to myself. As you kindly pointed out, I have a girlfriend."
Victoria smirked. "You probably want to leave that out, if you talk about some of tonight with her," she warned. "Good night, guys. Sleep well." She dims the lights and closes the door.
In the dark, we lie in bed. I have to admit, it's kind of awkward, but I've been in worse situations. Atticus spends a while staring at the ceiling, and I notice his hands go to his stitches often.
"Maybe we should continue this conversation later?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.
I see his silhouette nodding. "This conversation has gone too deep for one night. Good night, Vera."
I shift my sleeping position, facing away from him. "Good night, Atticus."
I close my eyes, trying to fall asleep. But it was kind of hard to ignore the sudden burning in my chest.