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Chapter 6

I began to speak after a moment of silence, pushing my coppery hair over my shoulder; my tone light and low. “Guardian ... Are you going to tell my father?”

“If your father hears the gossip or if you begin to disobey any further orders, then I will speak to him about it. But until then, this stays between us.” Derrick informed me blandly, his piercing amber eyes almost appearing business-like; just as they did when he greeted the council.

I tilted my head in curiosity, wondering why he used such a tone against me; such a distant and unloving way of telling me that my secret is safe as long as I abide by the rules and laws that had been set in place.

I knew that his heart held no care for any of the men on the council, their words harbouring no care or truth.

Unlike Derrick and I, they were fake; only remaining by my father’s side to keep the comforts of having a place beside the king, using him to get the power and greed that all of them craved.

So then, why use the exact tone against me, the lifeless gaze that showed no affection? Perhaps this time I had stepped over the line, awoken something in my guardian that caused him to turn away as he did, to blank my presence as if I were not there; to hate me in such a manner that made my heart sink.

Did he loath me as he did them?

Had I caused one of the only people I truly cared for to lose all affection for me?

I jumped, recoiling back a step when he turned to look at me; a strange glint in his eye.

Something that would send fear rushing into the mind of even the most fearless of people, something ... Dark, unnatural.

Taking a soothing breath, I looked closer; pushing the fear that had began to surface back into the far corners of my mind, my smile appearing flawless; my eyes showing no feeling.

Derrick spoke slowly, a flawless smile of his own appearing in the corners of his mouth; the man I knew as my guardian slowly reappearing behind the strange darkness, the evil that I couldn’t explain. His tone appearing light and pleasant, “Now Sanctus, we must leave to see your father soon, please; continue with drying your hair.”

I nodded mutely, thinking of my reply with care as my mind persisted in focusing on his glare; knowing that it was behind the gleaming smile that played on his lips. I began to speak slowly, once again placing my hands before me and entwining my fingers together, a subtle act of my standing in the kingdom. “Yes guardian, I have wasted much time already, I’m afraid that we mustn’t keep father waiting any longer than we have to.”

Derrick bobbed his head, carefully adjusting his shirt before speaking; his eyes filled with a hatred I could never understand. “No, we mustn’t. Hurry off with you.”

I turned away from my guardian as he left the room, quickly grabbing a small comb from the vanity mirror; tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I moved to begin combing my hair as I forced my breathing to slow, my heart continuously thumping against my ribcage in a panicked movement. Strange, I had seen that look very rarely, most when we were in the presence of others around the castle; but never towards me, nor as brutally as it had shown moments earlier.

I moved with the grace of my sisters as I twirled my mass of coppery hair into a tight plait, the length cascading over my shoulder as it sat just bellow my breast; keeping it in place with a simple black hair tie wrapped around the end of the twisted style.

I smiled truthfully at my reflection in the vanity mirror, my baby blue eyes locked onto the plat in awe, each twist of my hair reminding me of my mother. Of how she often wore her hair in the style I did now, no one else in the kingdom daring such a simple look.

I finished quickly, just as my guardian had instructed, silently following him down the winding halls on the castle; my mind replaying the strange glint in his eye over and over. Unable to let the unnatural feeling that plagued my every thought go.

I would have to find the meaning behind it somehow. Behind the predatory hunger that moulded into his actions on occasion, changing his behaviour in a drastic and chaotic manner.

Perhaps he had a secret of his own, something that he did not wish to share. Not even with me.

My guardian strolled towards a pair of towering black oak doors, crowns carved into each one with the vast etching of a stags head; the sign of the last king that controlled these halls before my father.

His nation vast and powerful.

Yet, like many others; riddled with constant war. The last king became injured greatly in battle, eventually dying in his bed only hours after naming my father heir after having no kin of his own.

My father of course had been surprised by this, taking the throne with a humble and love filled heart; later marrying my mother who had remained as one of the ladies in waiting after the death of her king. In his birth land, my father had been the fifth son born, having no rights to the throne of heritage of anything other than a small amount of land as a lord in my grandfather’s kingdom.

But, that was not what the warrior had intended to do with his life, and instead, when this land was riddled with war and the old king called out for assistance; my father answered. Eventually leading the seemingly endless battles persisted for several years, proving to the stag king of elegance and strength that he was loyal.

After the king’s death, my father retaliated to the invading armies with brute and putrid force, leaving no survivors as he butchered every last man, woman and child. Calling it justice and revenge in replacement for their king’s death.

My grandfather was most pleased with his son’s efforts and his own kingdom now became larger with the help of my father and his new armies. Though this was not the end of the fighting and perhaps; there never would be in all the centuries that were to pass.

The men of all lands craving the glorious death that followed every soldier; that lived in the heart of every man from the day of their birth. Honour and power. That was the way of our people, the way of all people.

I followed Derrick through the large doors, watching as he nodded to the guards situated at either side. Mimicking the actions of my guardian, I smiled politely, nodding towards every guard we passed with a tilt of my head. It was rare that my father ever called any of his children into the throne room, the action seeming too formal; wrong somehow. My heart pounded as I walked barely two steps behind Derrick, forcing my eyes to remain on the back of his head as the council seemed to be present in the throne room. Watching me pass with curious eyes. Like many who dwelled within the palace, the council disapproved of me, of my every action as if I were a burden to them; something that they could push out whenever they pleased.

Though of course, my father would not allow that; informing them on many occasions that in spite of my strange abilities, I was his youngest child and would remain beside him.

Not caring for what the people thought about me.

I had known from a young age that superstition persisted as a dangerous thing, the fear of something that they did not understand causing the men of all kingdoms to act irrationally and without cause. This had caused the great witch trials after my birth, the strange curse that I had been placed with proving that they existed and this; the mortals did not like. The council had burned many women at the stake, attempting to do the same to me when I was a young child; insisting that I was a danger to all of them.

But really, at only five years of age I had no idea that my power was deadly and used it against the soldiers when they came for me. This was a mistake. My ability killing almost fifty men within a mile of where I resided.

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