Unbound

Dissent

“Dimitri? You in here? Dimitri?”

Her voice drifted through the stables. Its urgency spared the idling horses to glance up from their dwellings, needles of hay dripping from their lips. She whisked past them, eyes roving frantically up and down the corridor.

It was no use, she reasoned. The stableman must’ve left for the night. Which meant she’d have to equip her horse alone.

Her prized stead, Remy, was a magnificent white beast. With a muscular torso and eloquently yearning neck, he sent visiting emissaries quivering with envy. He was her last gift from her parents, before they left, taking Ariana with them.

Annalise shuddered against Remy’s wooden stall and collapsed against it, her bottom stuttering against the stable floor as she fell. Her head bounced off the door and wilted in her hands.

How did it come to this? Married and bred like some brood mare. Deep inside, she knew this day was inevitable. Knew it like an predictable book ending; she needed only flip to the final page, and read the fateful words: The End.

Her parents would’ve prevented this; would’ve saved her hand ‘til the fateful day her heart fell irrevocably in love. Afterall, her parents had done the same. Her mother was a commoner – the Miller’s daughter – and her father was the eldest monarch. What’s more? They waited until they were 21, old enough to be madly in love and devised a successful future for their children.  

But they weren’t here to defend her, the bastards. They’d made promises – of freedom – and left before fulfilling them. The curtain closed before their time, taking Ariana with them. Meanwhile, Annalise and Agnar were left behind to assemble the pieces of a broken monarchy. They huddled close to one another, whispered their fears until he married Cassandra, upsetting the delicate sibling balance.

Agnar – bless the man – wasn’t meant to rule. That was Ariana’s job. She was a leader, an authoritarian. She was allowed to lead charges and study diplomacy. She was primed to flawlessly lead. What she wasn’t prepared for? The war cretins that attacked the carriage carrying her, her husband, and their parents.

Soon after, the kingdom began the crumble. Alasia continued to triumph over their enemies but at greater financial cost. Coin crumbled, soldiers died and families starved. Even better, a new phenomenon besought their lands: the sun blazed, chasing away the rain. Endless droughts ensued, crops shriveled and rivers disappeared. Her brother was forced to bargain with allied kingdoms, and mend scars with warring kingdoms. Thus, paving the way for her marriage.

Analise swallowed a sob.

She figured Agnar – doting, determined Agnar – would prevent this, especially if it kept her home. He hfwas her closest confidant, friend. They were meant to be the dynamic duo; the remaining siblings of an endless dynasty.

Some dynasty, she snorted.

Her family’s past was rife with struggles. Not that she was supposed to know this, as she was barred from politics since childhood. She’d delved into them anyway, devoted to knowledge and innovation; learning the old way to render them new, efficient. She vowed rebellion at a young age; vowed never to be ignorant. Living in the shadows was no life, at all. She preferred to bask in the sun, to absorb the eccentricities of the world and revel in them – unfiltered, uncensored. It was her secret. A secret she revealed today at council.

She twirled a bit of straw between her fingers, watched it fray and unravel.

Just like my future: broken.

Hot pin-pricks screamed from the corners of her eyes. She wiped at them feverishly, and hiccupped a sob.

Boots appeared before her. Large, polished boots with black etchings of moons on the side. She traced the pattern with blurry eyes. A handkerchief followed, held adrift by a hand enclosed in soft, dark leather gloves.

“What misdeed must happen for such an angel to fall?” A rich, melodic voice caressed her senses, swirled through the stables with a whimsical ease. Its music was so irresistible, so tempting, that she found herself drawn to its owner, her head whipping upward.

Hot damn.