Asunder

The Remains of a Dynasty

CHAPTER THREE: The Remains of a Dynasty

She dreamt of her brothers and sisters. Lark walked the halls of the castle and it was as she remembered it; pristine, beautiful, elegant. The halls were clean and the air was crisp and the family was whole. Knights and lords walked through the halls; her sisters' ladies flirted with her brothers' friends, the twins were bickering, and Rhea was on Griffin's shoulders.

She dreamt of going fishing with Griffin when she was eight. He was never free of commitments, but this was a rare day, and she'd begged him to let her come. He was a soft spoken boy, sweet of heart, born to be King one day. He was dead now.

She dreamt of Merida and Alissa. Those two had been best friends but they never excluded Lark. She was their annoying little sister and yet they rarely lost their tempers with her. They dressed her up and did her hair and makeup and made her feel like she truly was a Princess. Alissa was dead by her own hand; Lark dreamt of Alissa's long, glossy hair, how she smelled of roses and had a smile that won over hearts, a smile that would never shine again.

Oliver and she hadn't been close. He was calculating and distant, but Lark loved the rare days that he would allow her to play chess with him. Once in awhile, he let her win.

Her younger siblings were the light of the castle. Torrance and Credence made mischief all of the time, much to their Mother's dismay, and Elysian was boisterous, feisty, always picking a fight with the sons of nobles much bigger than himself. They never dared to harm or insult him, so he always thought he was the winner. His confidence was something she always envied.

And Rhea...sweet Rhea. Bubbly and energetic, everyone adored the baby of the family. Jakobe said Rhea was happy, but how could she be happy trapped with that damned Fae family?

She awoke abruptly to a sharp, insistent knock on the door. Sitting up fast, Lark glanced at Manda and Jakobe who shot each other nervous glances as they moved towards the entrance. Lark, tension filling her body, quickly placed the hood on her head once more and flipped her body so she was facing away. Turning her head over her shoulder, she peeked as Jakobe opened the door.

"Jakobe?" A young girl said. "Your grandson is running around spreading some nonsense about a Princess—" she stopped suddenly, staring at Lark, who quickly glanced away, heart in her mouth.

There were a murmur of voices outside. Jakobe gruffly told everyone to get, but Lark could hear the growing interest gathering outside of the little home. People were craning their heads in an attempt to look in, and Lark's mouth had gone dry. Her heart beat in her throat and she glanced at the door in the back, itching to run, to never look back.

A few people slipped by Manda and Jakobe. Lark stood shakily, leaning away from their hungry, hopeful gazes, a hopefulness that struck her as deep as her thirst had. They shouldn't look at her like that. That was how they used to look at her father, her brother, all of her siblings. It was familiar, but it was never directed at her, and it was startling.

"Is it you? Are you the Princess?"

"Princess? You are a Starborne Princess?"

"Save us! Save us!"

Lark let the hood drop from her face as she slowly walked towards the door. The crowd parted like water and as the warm sun hit her skin, they created a circle around her, dozens of people crowding into the streets. There were men, women, children, faces she didn't recognize but as she turned in a circle, there were murmurs.