THE BETRAYAL

“Leila’s turn!”

Leila stared up at the mural, ignoring Her sisters. Spots of pink, gold, and icy blue covered the ceiling, a piece She had seen a hundred times yet never ceased to captivate Her.

“Let’s play palace.” Cosima giggled, her red curls bouncing. “I want to be the queen!”

Delphi rolled her eyes. “You picked last.”

“You can be my servant and braid my hair!”

“It’s Leila’s turn, stupid,” Delphi said.

Leila’s gaze didn’t leave the mural—a vision of the realm’s first Savior, Her violet eyes, Her glowing skin. My great, great,great grandmother…or something.

A flurry of men in colorful tunics headed into the atrium, led by a royal in a red drape and a black eye patch, a crown of silver prongs nestled amid his curls. He sat at the dining table, and Leila’s shoulders curled.

Father.

“Leila?” Delphi nudged Her shoulder. “Pick something.” Instead She gazed at the floor, twirling the lining of Her dress between Her fingers. Maybe he wouldn’t notice Her. Maybe if She was quiet—

“Leila,” Her father shouted. “Come.”

She hesitated, then flinched when he snapped his fingers, springing to Her feet and skittering his way. She stopped a pace or two from his side, Her throat catching. He took Her hand, wrenching Her closer.

“You’re certain of the time?” His gaze was locked on the page before him. “We can’t afford delays.”

“The entire event has been arranged down to the second, Your Highness.”

His grip hardened, and color pricked at Leila’s skin, spilling from his palm to Hers. Looking up at the muraled ceiling, She hoped to see the same shades of pink, or gold, or icy blue. To feel them.

Murky grey. She never saw pretty colors in Her father.

“And what of the people?” Her father said. “I don’t want them getting close.”

“A path will be cleared for you and Her Holiness.” His page glanced over a lengthy scroll. “Guards will line the walkway. No one will be permitted through.”

“It’s Her first public appearance. They’ll be absolutely uncivilized.”

“There will be much celebration, but no one gets through, I assure you.” The page smiled at Leila, bowing his head. “Is this acceptable, Your Holiness?”

“Y—” She stuttered, then raised Her voice. “Yes.”

“Ixion,” Her father barked.

A portly Senator had entered the room, stopping at the sound of his name. Leila’s father flagged him over. “You weren’t at today’s meeting.”

“I’m resigning.” Squaring his shoulders, Ixion approached the table. “From this day forth, I relinquish my title in the Thessian Senate.”

“Care to tell us why?” Her father said.

“We can discuss privately.”

“Anything you have to say can be shared here.”

Ixion eyed the surrounding men. “I’m…uncomfortable with recent arrangements.”

“Arrangements you yourself have championed for a number of years.”

“Circumstances have changed.”

Ixion glowered, but Leila’s father offered nothing—no words, no reaction. He turned to the others. “Did you know outside his work in politics, Ixion is a recreational chemist? Creates peculiar concoctions, some with very powerful and often dangerous effects.”

Ixion’s face paled. “Your Highness—”

“Were you hoping to keep this to yourself? I do aim to respect the privacy of my Senators. Then again, you’ve resigned your post, haven’t you.”

Clearing his throat, Ixion nodded. “I could reconsider.”

“Smart man.”

Bowing, the Senator plodded off, meek and wounded. Her father was good at that—getting people to do as he ordered. The sign of a true Sovereign, many said. Perhaps people expected Leila to be like him one day. Poised. Powerful. She hung Her head.

A man with thinning black hair and a hooked nose appeared in the corridor, capturing Her father’s attention. “Romulus, a word in my chamber?” Her father waved the others away, then turned to Leila. “Go.”

He released his grip on Her, and She sucked in a full breath. Still, She didn’t move, Her eyes on his back as he disappeared from view.

Small hands slapped against Her shoulder blades.

“Leila’s it!” Cosima said.

Leila spun around as Her two sisters fled the atrium in a fit of laughter. “Hey!” She tore after them, but She was so small, and Her sisters had those long legs. “Wait! That’s not fair!”

Delphi and Cosima peeled around a faraway corner, nearly toppling over.

Leila growled. She never won this game. “It’s not fair! Stop!”

Her eyes locked onto the last place She had seen them. Run faster, but Her feet couldn’t catch up to Her thoughts. She squinted, focusing long and hard on that corner. Catch up.

Light flooded Her vision, and a second later She stumbled around the corner.

Leila staggered to a halt, Her gaze darting to the corridor behind Her—the stretch She had cleared in an instant. How did I do that? It was impossible…until She remembered the flash of light.

The mark of Her power.

She looked down at Her glowing hands. Heat pulsed through them, burning with a power She had known Her whole life. And now that power had expanded.

The atrium. Her vision went white, Her body warm, and suddenly the muraled ceiling loomed above Her yet again. She clasped Her hands over Her mouth, containing a squeal. A new trick. Delphi and Cosima may have had those long legs, but they couldn’t hop from room to room.

She appeared in the bathhouse, then the courtyard, transported by the sheer will of Her thoughts. Her excitement turned into wild glee, and She closed Her eyes, imagining the comfort of Her bed. Light consumed Her, harsh and fiery, and when She opened Her eyes, She stood in Her bedchamber.

Leila spun in a circle, reveling in Her latest discovery. She turned to Her mirrored wardrobe, greeted by Her flushed, grinning reflection, along with the faces of two women. Women who weren’t in the room. Who weren’t even of this world, at least not any longer. Another trick. She knew this one well.

Panting, She planted Her hands on the mirror. “Mummies.”

Both women smiled at Her—one with Leila’s white skin, the other with deep brown features. A mother She had never met, and one She had loved.

Leila’s gaze danced across Her room. Her chamber opened up to a vast garden, and far beyond it stood a large, stone wall—the edge of the fortress.

Travel past the fortress.

Nothing. Leila remained rooted to the floor, no sudden voyage. She turned to Her mothers. “I can’t? But why?”

Her mothers didn’t answer. They never did.

“I’m going to show Delphi.”

Their faces vanished behind streaks of white. She was back in the atrium. Empty. Then the gallery. No one. She tried the grand staircase; servants walked by, and She hid behind a column. Delphi has to see it first. Another surge of light, but still no sign of Her sister. Closing Her eyes, She dissolved within Her power, traveling to another corridor.

Her father’s chamber stood ahead, sending Her rigid. Holding Her breath, She tiptoed past it.

“You’re certain everything’s secure? I need this to work.”

“All possible complications have been prepared for.”

“You said that last time.”

Two voices fired off within the chamber—Her father and Romulus, tense and heated. But it was the severity of Her father’s words that struck Her, and the way his colors seeped straight beneath the door, the murky grey now a blazing red.

He was angry.

“One more time.” Her father’s footsteps echoed as he paced the floor. “Let’s run through it one more time.”

“Your Highness—”

“I need Her gone,” he spat. “I should be ruling, not playing father.”

Father. An insult, as if speaking it had left a foul taste in his mouth. She glanced across the corridor—no servants, no staff—then pressed Her ear to the door.

“The moment draws near.” Romulus’s voice was strong and assured. “Tomorrow, Leila will be killed, and Thessen will be under your complete domain.”

Her heart shot into Her throat.

“The plan,” Her father said.

“We take Her into the commons, present Her to the adoring crowd,” Romulus rattled off. “Our man shoots. She dies in the arms of Her grieving father before plenty of witnesses. A rebel has already been located. He’ll take the fall.”

Silence. Her father paced.

“I can kill the girl myself, Your Highness. We didn’t have to recruit outside.”

“You killed my wife, and look what that got me. A damn child. No, I’m leaving this to someone who knows what they’re doing.” Her father let out a deep sigh. “Everything would have been so much simpler if we’d ended Her as an infant.”

Leila clutched Her dress, cowering beneath his words.

“The blame would point to you,” Romulus said. “Your wife and daughter, dead under suspicious circumstances, and so quickly—”

“I’m not stupid,” Her father hissed. “I know this.” He grumbled under his breath. “All this work. End the wife, end the nanny, end the girl. Toma still opposes?”

“As do Ixion and Gelanor. They think the people will speculate given the similar nature of Her mother’s passing. They argue for more distance.”

“Gelanor and Toma can be convinced. Get rid of Ixion. Discreetly.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And what of you?” The pacing stopped. “What are your thoughts?”

“I think the throne has been calling your name for some time now.”

Leila pulled away. My chamber. Another white flash, and again She stood in front of Her mirrored wardrobe and those two faces.

Kind.

Sad.

Her gaze panned between them. Glowing skin, ebony skin. Blue eyes, brown eyes. End the wife. End the nanny.

Leila would die next.

Her father’s words rang in Her ears, and panic latched onto Her. She wept in Her chamber until Her cheeks were raw and red, Her thoughts wavering between mourning and madness.

How do I stop this?

A shaky breath. She had to calm Herself. Wiping Her nose, She stared at Her mothers in the mirror—two dead women. She wouldn’t share their fate.

One day She would be like him. Poised. Powerful. Today was that day. It had to be.

Light surged within Her.

Romulus’s chamber.

Brown walls, an emerald rug, a simple wooden desk. In the corner sat a familiar little girl with thin blonde hair and large blue-green eyes.

This was who She was looking for.

Leila stood before the girl, hands shaking at Her sides. I can’t.

She stifled a whimper. She had no other choice.

“I know you don’t understand.” Her voice trembled. “But I have to.”

She wasn’t sure how long She waited for him. Time had lost significance, Her insides tearing at the seams—the stripping of Her innocence. The torment became consuming, flushing out all second thoughts, all hesitations. Perhaps a part of Her was dying, but something else was growing in its place. Something else was newly born.

Romulus appeared, lurching to a stop. The blonde girl sat cross-legged on the rug, and Leila sat behind her, brushing her hair.

“Your Holiness.” He glanced across the room. “How did You—?”

“Doesn’t she look pretty?” Leila said.

Romulus didn’t respond, his lips parted.

“Are you going to ignore The Savior when She speaks to you?”

He cleared his throat. “She looks very pretty, Your Holiness.”

“She’s My age, isn’t she? Her mummy died pushing her from her belly. You share no blood, but you call her kin. You loved her mummy as your own.”

Romulus said nothing.

“She’s different.” Leila pointed to the girl’s forehead. “Here. Hasn’t spoken a word. You’re not even sure she knows who you are.” She looked him in the eyes. “She doesn’t.”

“How do You know this?”

“I know lots about her. I know lots of things.”

One brush, two. Leila tightened Her grip, digging Her nails into the woodgrain. “Why do you hide her away? Is it because you’re scared of My father?”

Romulus didn’t answer, his tension palpable—a swampy green.

“You shouldn’t be scared of him. You should be scared of Me.”

“Your Holiness—”

“You killed My mother.” Leila stared down at the girl’s hair, Her vision clouded with tears. “Father doesn’t want Me. He’s going to kill Me too.”

“Your Holiness, please…what do You want?”

“I want to kill her, like you killed My mother.” She looked up at him with an unblinking gaze. “You took from Me. Tell Me why I shouldn’t take from you?”

“This isn’t You. You’re…You’re just a child—”

“I am no child. I am The Savior,” She hissed.

Her insides ignited, lit with a fire that threatened to burn through Her flesh. Her light had never felt this severe before. This enraged.

“I can kill her right now. Or I can take care of her. Give her the life you can’t.”

Romulus swallowed. “I’ll do anything.”

“My appearance tomorrow. Make it go away.”

“Your Holiness, I’m not sure how—”

Leila grabbed a fistful of the girl’s hair, and his eyes widened. “Yes, of course, whatever You say. It’s just, the Sovereign will need a reason—”

“Find one.”

Sweat beaded along his forehead. “There’s opposition to the plan. I can sway him in that direction.”

Leila’s jaw tightened. “Then what?”

“What do You mean?”

“If I live, what’s to become of Me?”

“We hold You captive,” he said. “In the fortress. Dismantle Your authority. Your father retains control, and You are reduced to…a symbol. An empty title.”

Leila stared at the floor. The life She knew was gone in an instant, leaving Her with nothing but Her blackening insides.

“Do it.”

“Yes, Your Holiness.” Romulus cleared his throat. “And my granddaughter?”

“She joins My court in the morning.” Hopping to Her feet, She took the girl’s hand. “Come, Pippa. You’re My sister now.”

The two scurried to the door. Leila looked over Her shoulder, leveling Her eyes on the man behind Her, hatred bubbling within the heart of a child.

Except She wasn’t a child. Not anymore.

“You work for Me now.”