Fire sparks

Ch. 9 Past Life

I sat outside of the castle, feeling a little like an unwelcome guest in my own home. How my children had gained control of my realm so quickly was beyond me. My daughter was two for Christ sake! Two! She had just potentially done the most gruesome thing the realm had seen! I melted people, destroyed families and villages, I’d made people go insane and smash their own bodies to smithereens and still that was somehow less offensive than watching a bouncing toddler happily munch her way through a half alive man. 

Lucian had carried her all the way to the top of the stairs as she soundly slept on his shoulder. I’d heard the bath water start and heard him talking softly to her trying to coax her into some semblance of awareness so she wouldn’t drown in the tub. I could only picture the scene straight from a nightmare as I listened from the kitchen. 

The water would be bright red. Lucian would carefully wash every speck of blood and flesh from her, while she splashed and played as if this was a normal day; as if she hadn’t just eaten a man alive. 

Laughter from the pair echoed down the hall and it pushed me over the edge. I couldn’t sit and listen to them be so happy, so unaffected by the horrors that lie just moments in their past. I had to step outside.

In Eve’s first two years of life Hades had gotten over the full on silent treatment, though things had never been the same between us. He’d even gotten over the death glares when I’d taken to regularly inviting the Fae twins to entertain me- instead of him. 

Still, he was the one who insisted on standing guard by our front door. Braxis and Galen were always at either side of the estate, too. When I stepped from the front door, Hades took one look at me before turning to the other two and ordering they go on a walk. He turned back to me for a moment, mouth open like he’d had something to say, but I shook my head cutting him off before he had the chance. He wasn’t mad at the rejection, instead he nodded in understanding and simply turned to walk further down the path leading to my home.

I slumped to the stairs, my head hanging in my hands. Maybe I was evil. I let those sweet innocent babies turn into the darkest things in this realm. Worse, though. I didn’t let them turn, I made them turn. 

If only things had been different. If only they were born in the realm beyond. If only I hadn’t been trapped. If only the world didn’t believe the prince’s lies. If only I hadn’t been stupid enough to belive the prince’s lies. 

Were my children more evil than him? Possibly. But they were a product of their environment. Prince Tavian had no excuse. He had everything when he found me innocently collecting flowers as a child. I had nothing. Well, nothing but the flowers I’d gathered. And power. So much power. But I didn’t have any bad intentions for that power. I’d hoped to share my powers with the kingdom. 

In fact, the flowers I gathered were for a healing potion. The kingdom had been plagued; a crown shaped virus that attacked the people from within. The potion was simple enough, but the quantity required took some time. In hindsight, I realized the irony of the situation. At that moment I was meeting the next crown shaped plague. 

I had only been sixteen. He was nineteen. He was handsome and as charming as King Charming himself. Sure he was a prince but that’s not why I liked him. It wasn’t as if he’d ever be king, anyway. His older brother, Richard, was guaranteed that spot. 

But I’d been naive enough to believe him… him and his lies. If only I hadn’t been so stupid. My mind reeled, remembering things that had no business being remembered. I scrubbed at my face, but it was too late, the memories wouldn't be stopped.

A young girl- a young me- knelt atop a grassy knoll, gently humming to herself, oblivious to the world around.

“What are you doing?” The question wasn’t accusatory, only curious. His voice was gentle but the deepness held a certain air of confidence and power the young witch couldn’t miss. She glanced up from the poppies to find him standing before her. He was still somewhere between a boy and a man, but handsome nonetheless. His sandy blond hair blew in the springtime breeze. His clothes were too fine to belong to a commoner. His hazel eyes with turquoise flecks looked at her curiously. 

“Go away, boy. Can’t you see I’m busy?” She forced her eyes back to the poppies. She was doing important work and wouldn’t be distracted.

“Maybe I can help.” He kneeled beside her and began rapidly plucking flowers. 

“Stop that!” She’d hissed. “You can’t just pull them out like some wraith.” When he didn’t stop she reached over and lightly smacked his hand. 

“Sheesh! I was just trying to help.” He rubbed his hand as if she’d actually hurt him. His ego surely stung more than his skin. She rolled her green eyes- already developing a deep set annoyance at the fragility of men. 

“Well don’t. I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t need it.” She flicked a dismissive hand and got back to work carefully inspecting each flower before removing them from the earth.

“And what if I help anyway?” She didn’t need to look at him to know he wore a cocky expression.

“Your help will only ruin things. Now if you’ll excuse yourself, I can finish here in peace.”

She kept her eyes glued to the poppies, but could feel the burn of his stare in her cheeks. 

“You can't speak to me like that, you know. Don’t you know who I am?” 

“Of course.” For a moment she felt his energy shift to that of triumph, but it was quickly diminished when she finished her thought. “You are an inconvenience, a distraction, and a liability.”

He went rigid beside her, hissing in annoyance. “That is no way to talk to your prince.”

She lifted a lazy eye to meet his. His mouth was quirked at the corner, as if he thought the revelation would elicit some amount of groveling. He’d be disappointed. “Hmmm, and here I was thinking a prince would care about his people. Curious, you seem more interested in distracting one of their healers and compromising the cure for the plague that is too quickly killing his people." She flickered her eyes up and down, appraising the arrogant boy. "No, you are not a prince.”

His shoulders faltered for a moment, before he decided to shoot his shot one more time. “I suppose there has been some degree of misunderstanding. My sincerest apologies, I only wanted to help.”

She continued to collect flowers. She was very aware he hadn’t moved from his spot, but ignored him all the same.

“It isn’t polite to ignore someone.”

“It isn’t polite to assume your company is welcome.”

“Why are you so bitter?” Finally the prince had gained her attention. Her eyes snapped to his. The glow made him wobble on his bent knees, but she didn’t miss the look of intrigue they held. 

“I am not bitter, prince, I am focused. Unlike some of us here, I have interest in saving the people of this kingdom.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. But she could tell there was more than a little humor in his eyes. She stood to move to a new patch of poppies a few feet away. When she crouched to begin the examination, he laid on the ground, sliding against the earth until their faces were parallel and his glittering eyes looked up to hers. 

“You are so lovely.”

“You just crushed at least twenty poppies. You’ve killed at least twenty of your people. I hope you are happy.”

His face still looked up to her as he lay on his back in the field. “With a view like this, how could I be anything less than happy?”

Maeve made a show of thoughtfully tapping her chin. “Hmmm… I don’t know. Maybe you’d find a way to show a little sadness at the fate of your people? Especially considering you’ve just played a heavy hand in killing them.” The boy was not used to being brushed off. Her lack of interest was grating on his nerves, but he had no intentions of giving up. Still, he tried again to win her over.

“Please, little witch, give me a moment. I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong.” He rolled to his belly and scooted his body just a little further down to face her, effectively ruining another five poppies. “You must know how lovely you are.”

“And you must know how annoying you are.” She quirked her head to the side. The boy was handsome, but looking at him like this she was able to, for the first time, realize he was a prince, but not the prince. Curiosity flowed through her and before she had a chance to stop herself, she asked a question that opened the door to her own demise. “What is your name, Mr. Prince?”

He smiled, a beautiful and wicked smile, though she didn’t recognize the malice until it was far too late. “I’m Prince Tavian.”

She knew the name, but it was far less infamous than his brother, the crown prince: Prince Richard. The ladder was known as a hard working and respetable future ruler of the kingdom, the former was a wannabe playboy who’d been nothing short of a disappointment to his father. Judging by his inconsiderate squashing of the poppies, young Maeve would have to agree with the rumors. 

“Well, Prince Tavian, if you would please be so kind as to get the f**k off the poppies, I’m trying to save some lives here.”

I shook the rest of the memory from my mind. I'd been nothing short of rude that first day. Why had I let him convince me to break down my walls? How had I been so stupid? Even from the beginning he’d been nothing but trouble. I’d made one bad decision as a child and now my children would lead the life I’d been thought to have led. What a cruel, cruel world.