As she did, a knock sounded at the door, followed by the creaking of hinges.
Teirn entered. He typically kept his beard a bit bristly, but today he was freshly shaved for the long road ahead. “The carriage is ready.”
Servants shuffled in to retrieve the overflowing trunks. At the same time a familiar gray robe shuffled in alongside them.
It was Madge, their senior healer.
“Were you going to come to say goodbye?” The wrinkles lining her brow looked so much more pronounced in her worried expression.
Helaina stared off to the side, rolling her lips to the inside of her mouth. She was told to never return here. She didn’t have it in her to seek out farewells. It made things so permanent, so final.
“I see.” Madge nodded to herself, the disappointment clear. “Continue your studies when you’re gone, won’t you? It would be a shame for someone of your intellect to go to waste. Make sure the deserts understand that.”
Madge was never the type to hover. She didn’t give Helaina a chance to form any type of acknowledgment before she turned and left.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the servants to follow the same path, leaving her room completely bare.
Over twenty years reduced to an empty space. Like she had never lived there to begin with.
When everyone had left the room, Teirn signaled for her to come along.
“Can I have one more minute?”
She could sense he felt unsure. “I’ll be around the corner,” he replied after a calculated pause.
Alone, she took one final look around. She realized Oakmire had never been a true home. It had been a prison. She had begged for so long for even the slightest reprieve, to see anywhere else, to be anywhere else.
She was getting her wish at last.
The idea of spending eternity behind castle walls didn’t seem so bleak now, when compared to the dangers waiting for her once she left the safety of Oakmire.
She never knew why King Matthias helped her so long ago, hiding her with his magic. She never got the opportunity to ask.
Now she wondered why her father had let him shield the castle. Unlike Madge, neither of her parents had even come to say goodbye. Why would they? They were grateful she was leaving.
She was glad they had not come to see her off. Let the guilt eat at them when it came. Surely it would come. Wouldn’t it?
I will find you again, Helaina Ironblood. That is a promise.
The memory of those words and the one who had spoken them made her skin prickle. She instinctively reached under the hem of her shirt. Above her breast, she thumbed the familiar patch of raised skin that had been permanently seared—a brand in the shape of a sphere encompassing a coiling serpent.
That ugliness on her body had remained a secret between her and the one that had given it to her.
“Your Highness, it’s time,” Teirn said tentatively from the doorway.
She barely heard him.
She bent down, pretending to fix the cuff of her boot, as she confirmed the smuggled kitchen knife still rested comfortably within the leather. There was no fear as she touched the blade, no pain—no feeling at all.
“I’m ready,” she said.
She would be no one’s tool. She would allow no one to choose her fate, not anymore. Helaina would see her brother and sister again. She would end this curse before it could be used to harm anyone else.
Teirn strode ahead as Helaina followed a good distance behind.
“I swear on Ures as my ancestor...” she whispered to herself, “I will not reach the deserts alive.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
