Episode Four
1585 Words
Zariah had not gotten a proper night's rest.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kael Draven's letter.
SEVEN DAYS.
That was all the time she had before she was expected to leave her home and marry a man she had never met.
By sunrise, her mind was made up.
She wasn't going to be stuck in her room waiting to lose her life.
“Tessa, bring me my cloak,” she said, pulling the curtains aside.
Tessa stopped arranging the dresses in the wardrobe. “Why?”
“Because I need to speak to my father.”
“You talked to him yesterday.”
“And he refused to listen. Perhaps he will listen today.”
Tessa folded her arms. What if he doesn't?
Zariah then shifted her gaze away from the window. “Then I'll find another way to make him listen.”
Tessa looked at her for a while, and shook her head.
“Sometimes I wonder how you survived this long without being locked in a tower,”
“Don't give him ideas.”
Tessa couldn't help but laugh.
For a few seconds, the room felt normal again. Then Zariah remembered the guard outside her door.
Her smile disappeared.
“Is he still there?” she asked.
Tessa nodded. “He's been in the same position since last night.”
“Of course he hasn't.”
Zariah picked up her cloak and went to the door.
When she came near the guard straightened.
She said, “Get out of the way.”
“I'm sorry, Your Highness. The king has instructed me not to let you leave your chambers without permission.”
“Then go and tell the king his daughter wishes to see him.”
“I was ordered to stay here.”
Zariah stepped closer. “And I am instructing you to carry a message. Unless you intend to spend the entire morning arguing with me?”
The guard's jaw clenched.
Tessa pressed her lips together as if to stop herself from smiling.
A few minutes later, the guard returned with permission for Zariah to enter the king's study.
King Edric was standing by his desk, looking at a document. He didn't raise his head when she came in.
“You have been busy,” he said.
Zariah glanced at the papers scattered across his desk. I can't say the same for you. You have planned my whole life without even asking me what I want.”
He put the document down.
“If you have come here to argue about your marriage again, save your breath.”
Then answer one question.” Why do I have to marry him so soon?”
“Because the agreement has been made.”
“That isn't an answer.”
He looked into her eyes. “Mind your tone, Zariah.”
She clenched her fist tightly with her hands.
“Everyone keeps telling me what to do. Nobody wants to tell me why. Am I being sent to Blackthorn because you need something from Lord Draven, or because you want me out of your way?”
There was a silence between them.
Her father looked away for the first time.
And Zariah noticed.
“This marriage isn't just as simple as you say it is,” she said.
King Edric returned to his desk and picked up another document.
“In five days, you will be leaving for Blackthorn, where your wedding preparations will be finished.
“Five days?” Zariah's voice rose. “The letter said seven!”
“Lord Draven's messenger arrived this morning. The departure has been moved forward.”
Zariah stared at him.
First, three weeks. Then seven days. Now five.
Did these men change her life whenever they pleased?
“You cannot keep changing the arrangement and expect me to accept it without question.”
“I expect you to obey.”
“And if I refuse?”
Her father placed the document down with a sharp slap.
“If you do refuse, everyone will know that I have warned you enough. You've embarrassed this family too much!”
Zariah's throat tightened. She wanted to tell him to look at her as a daughter, not a problem that has to be sent away.
Instead, she swallowed the words burning her tongue.
“Do you even know what kind of man he is?” she asked.
“Lord Draven is a strong king. He will give you all you need.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“Enough.”
He gestured towards the door.
“Go and prepare for your journey. I will not discuss this again.”
Zariah stood still for another moment, hoping he might change his mind.
He didn't.
She turned around and walked away before he could see just how much her hands were shaking.
By midday, the palace was buzzing with preparations.
Servants carried trunks through the corridors. The seamstresses hurried to complete her dresses, and the royal steward quarreled with the guards about which horse would be chosen to accompany her.
Everyone seemed eager to send her away.
Zariah was sitting on the edge of her bed, gazing at the map of the kingdom spread out on her lap.
Blackthorn was situated north of the mountains. The trip would take days, even if fresh horses were used.
With one finger she traced the route.
“What are you planning?” Tessa peeked from the door.
“Nothing.”
Tessa looked at the map. “You only say that when you're planning something dangerous.”
Zariah folded the map.
“I want to know what awaits me.”
“Lord Draven?”
“Blackthorn, His people, His castle, everything my father won't tell me.”
Tessa sat by her side.
“Perhaps you should give him a chance.”
Zariah turned sharply. “A chance? His first wife died, his second disappeared, and now he has demanded that our wedding be moved forward. What part of that sounds reassuring?”
“I didn't say it was reassuring,” she said.
“Then what are you saying?”
Tessa paused before reaching out to take her hand.
“I'm saying that whatever happens, you won't be alone in this. I'll go with you.”
Zariah's expression softened.
“You would leave the palace for me?”
“Someone has to make sure you don't start a war before breakfast.”
Zariah broke out in a small laugh.
“That's a very important duty.”
“I'm glad you understand.”
For the first time that day, the knot in Zariah's chest loosened.
Then someone knocked.
A royal messenger came in and bowled.
“A rider has come from Blackthorn, Your Highness, with a personal message from Lord Draven.
Zariah rose slowly.
“Where is he?”
“In the entrance hall. He insists the message must be delivered directly to you.”
She looked at Tessa in a confused manner.
Zariah straightened her clothes and lifted her chin.
“Then let's not keep him waiting.”
The messenger wore a dark cloak fastened with a silver clasp bearing the crest of Blackthorn. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself like a soldier who had spent years obeying dangerous men.
Zariah approached and he bowed.
“Princess.”
Where's the message?
He gave her a sealed envelope.
Zariah broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
Princess Zariah,
Your departure has been moved to five days from now. You'll be traveling with my escort, who will reach the palace tomorrow.
There's one thing you need to know before you arrive in Blackthorn.
My castle has rules. My people have enemies. You will not be able to roam outside the castle walls until I am sure you are trustworthy.
Do not mistake my decision to marry you for an invitation to challenge my authority.
Kael Draven.
Zariah read the last line twice.
Then she let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“He thinks I'm going to cause trouble before I even arrive.”
The messenger maintained a blank expression.
“My lord prefers to be prepared.”
“Tell your lord something for me.”
“Princess?”
Zariah folded the letter carefully.
“Tell him that if he expects a quiet, obedient wife, he has chosen the wrong woman.”
The messenger's face twisted into a new expression for the first time. He darted his eyes to Tessa, then back to Zariah.
“I will deliver your words.”
“Good.”
He bowed and left.
Zariah watched him cross the hall, the letter still clutched in her hand.
Kael Draven wanted her to obey his rules. He wanted her to stay inside his castle and prove herself trustworthy.
He had not even met her, but he knew what kind of woman she was.
Fine.
She would go to Blackthorn. She would stare him in the eye, and she would let him know something.
She may have to marry him, but she will never lose her voice.
Zariah looked at the stairs as she was walking towards them and saw something on the ground close to the entrance.
There was a little piece of fol
ded paper on the ground where the messenger had been standing.
She picked it up.
There were only six words written inside.
“Do not trust Lord Draven's household.”
Zariah's stopped breathing for a minute.
She turned her gaze at the open doors.
The messenger was already gone.
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