Freedom comes at a price and a young Earthal princess must live the life of somebody else, even if it means facing evil threats and impossible odds.
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As someone who craves freedom, Princess Clarabelle cannot just stand by and let her life be take...
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IT WAS hell. That was the only thing she could describe the sensation assaulting her head. And the distasteful stink of rancidity was so oppressive for her sensitive nose.
Clara stirred in her sleeping position. Her body screamed with soreness from the hard ground she slept on. As she skimmed her hands over the fabric serving as her cushion, she felt the grease cling to her skin.
She sat up with a start, looked around through her half-opened eyes, and realized that her makeshift bed was from the pile of unwashed musty clothes from the wooden chair in the corner.
Clara grimaced. She was already on her knees, about to stand up, when she spotted the prince slumped back against the wall, his head lolling to the side. The memory of what unfolded last night came rushing back and it only worsened the pounding in her head.
She closed her eyes for a minute, took a deep breath, and picked up a rangy cloth in an attempt to cover him with it. As she was about to drape it over his body like a blanket, Emir was already awake. They stared into each other's eyes for one dragging moment before Clara was the first to pull away, clearing her throat with the hope for the awkwardness to vanish.
She busied herself by neatly folding the fabric and other things used for her sleeping, all the while sensing Emir's eyes on her. Deciding she could no longer take the pressure off his stares, Clara spun around to catch him biting the inside of his cheek.
"What?" she said, although she already had an idea what Emir wanted to know from her.
"Is it okay if I ask about what happened last night?"
"You are considering how I feel."
It was more of a statement than a question and Clara didn't mean for her tone to take a sharp turn. There was no mistaking the guilt that flashed in his eyes. Emir had been rough on her feelings since day one, but maybe she was just simply upset by how things were between them.
When Emir remained silent, Clara released a heavy sigh and sat down beside him, hugging her legs closer. She propped her head on her knees, looking sideways at the prince who made a mess of her mind and heart these past days.
"I told you so. What transpired on that day... that morning when I lost the memory of that event, it all came back to me last night. And I'm not making it up, Prince Emir."
Emir stared long and hard, then he scooted closer to her, the exposed skin of their hands brushing.
"I am not saying you are making it all up, Anneliese. Do you, perhaps, know what they look like... those who did it to you?"
And she told him what exactly she saw when the princess' carriage got ambushed. The image was imprinted inside her head like a fresh tattoo. The thick black fabric concealing most of their faces didn't hide the horror. The haunting chill upon seeing those fiery eyes that glowed amidst their shadow form wormed their way into her insides.
