Chapter 2

I closed my eyes for a moment, calming my heartbeat. But a moment later, two guards strode in. Without knocking, of course.

Your Highness, it is required you come to the Ceremony:' I nodded regally and walked out, the train of my green gown sweeping after me. The guards followed a respectful distance behind me.

I preferred to go as a prisoner, with two guards flanking me, than as a princess with my half-brother escorting me.

We walked through the palace. Everyone bowed as I went by, but they made no effort to hide the pity in their eyes. That was all I had. Pity. No one bothered to tell me to stay strong, to keep fighting. I supposed I would have to tell myself that.

I walked down the hallway, until we finally reached the Clearing.

My mother, and Forreston, were already there. She sat in the center, on the throne. Elves had worked long and hard to make that throne. It was made of twigs, and leaves, and red berries, arranged flatly in concentric circles.

She didn't deserve to sit on that throne.

Forreston was standing on her left, a sword sheathed at his hip. He glared at me as we came in, not caring who saw him. Her advisers, including Sir Branch, were standing on the side.

The pink and white petals from the ever-blooming cherry blossom trees, on either side of the platform, rained down on them.

I climbed up the steps, to go stand next to her throne like Forreston, on her right. I had always made some distance between her and myself in these occasions. As I reached the Throne, I stopped again, a little bit away from it.

She noticed, of course, but she couldn't say anything - not there, at least.

I turned my head and faced my people. All the elves were gathered below the platform. Well, not all. Just the wealthy nobles, who were fin. with supporting anyone, even my mother, if they could keep their wealth.

So, my real people weren't there. I'd have to bear through another of these ridiculous Ceremonies full of propaganda.

Sir Branch stepped up in front of the Queen. "And now, your Queen, Queen Ivy, will address all elves!" He shouted loudly, his voice easily projecting over the entire area. The elves clapped politely.

Ivy gave him a regal nod and stepped up from her throne and Branch walked to the side. He seemed strangely pleased about something. Those eyes rarely glittered with such satisfaction.

Ivy began talking, "Elves! I, your Queen, Ivy, have dedicated my life to this Throne!"

And killed her daughters for it.

"Even upon the demise of my husband, I have ruled you well!" She wen on with her long monologue on how she had kept our Forest in harmony and peace, and that she had sacrificed so much for the Throne.

I couldn't bear to listen.

I only snapped to attention when she grinned wide and said, "So, for th good of our Forest once more, I have made a decision. Your Prince Forreston is of age. Hence, six days from today, he will be crowned King!"

• • •

I could only feel the cherry blossom petals falling softly on my skin. When I realized what was happening, my breath hitched in my throat.

No.

As I regained my hearing, I heard the noble elves clapping. Of course, they would.

A quick glance to my right showed Forreston grinning from ear to ear at this announcement. Ivy was smiling benignly on the crowd, like she had done them a great favor.

I couldn't breathe.

Forreston the King? Forreston, in the Throne my father or Laurel should have been on. If not Laurel - one of my other sisters - or even me, strange as it sounded. Anyone but Forreston. He wasn't even royal bloodline!

Well - perhaps given the current situation, bloodline didn't matter so much. But someone like Forreston would really be a horrible ruler.

Worse than that.

I began to quake, thinking of what this would mean for our Forest, so I missed the rest of the speech. Before I knew, the guards were leading me down another hallway - not the one I had come from, but the one leading to where I really lived.

I want through a longer hallway, down red-carpeted stairways, crossing a whole wing of the castle. The walls changed from fine wood panels to bricks, the floor from plush carpet to plain wood to rough stone. Finally, in a corner of the castle, the guards opened a door and left me to walk down.

There were guards lining the stairs, but I reminded myself to keep my head up and ignore them, pretending that I wasn't humiliated. The steps were quite large, large enough for me to pretend to not even see the guards.

Leaving me to walk down the dripping, malodorous stairs on my own was a special type of cruelty. A subtler one, designed to make the victim feel ... vulnerable. Ashamed.

I was determined not to let it work.

The stairs were made of plain stone, rough and uneven and practically endless. As I walked down, they became slicker with slime and water, making it even harder for me to walk.

I tripped in the middle, losing my balance for a split second before I thrust my hand out onto the wall, catching myself. I stayed there for a moment, breathing deeply.

I wasn't a stranger to falling down these stairs, and I could tell from experience that it was very painful and quite revolting.

Finally, I reached the bottom. And sighed. There was a channel separating me from my cell. I had to wade through the sewer to get there. Luckily, there were no guards here.

My mother had at least that much respect for my privacy. Or maybe she thought that it would be a waste employing guards when they could be used somewhere else, knowing that there were plenty of guards on the stairs and outside. I could never escape.

I hefted up my skirt and stepped in. It was cold, which I could deal with, and smelly, which I had gotten used to. Pieces of garbage hit my skin as they floated by.

I shuddered every time something touched me, unsure of what it was. There could be anything in these sewers, and the things I'd come across...it would be better to not even mention them.

I finally made it across. The sewer water reached till my waist, so my legs were soaked and covered in green slime by the time I got across. The door was ever open for me, not that I could escape, what with the guards everywhere - I'd tried.

I climbed into my cell. A stone bench hung, suspended by iron chains in one corner, next to a stack of hay. Where I slept, given the hay was slightly more comfortable than the bench.

At the center of the wall was the part I hated the most. Blood smears ran across the stones. I turned away and sat on the bench, knowing it was only a matter of time.

Two years ago, Juniper had been here with me, and before that Holly, before that Willow. I'd been fourteen when Juniper was killed. I barely remembered any of my sisters besides her and Willow and Holly.

They had been company.

Now, the silence got to me. That was one thing I absolutely could not but had to stand. I had come into the habit of singing to myself when I was feeling particularly afraid, sweet lullabies I remembered from my time as a child.

But there wasn't time.

Sure enough, three footsteps were heard in the distance. I recognized the click-clack of Forreston's boots, the soft tread of my mother and the sharp walking of Sir Branch. I was so used to them that I could immediately tell who was coming, and when.

They reached me soon enough, standing before me. The three of them, so alike. Ivy's long black hair matching Forreston's, Birch's brown eyes just like his.

Sir Branch Hawthorn was the Queen's foremost adviser, and lover. He was as cruel as his son, and as clever as Ivy. "So. Impudent. Rebelling. Answering back to my son?" Ivy started. "I'm your daughter too!" I exclaimed. Why couldn't she ever, evertreat me like that?

Her eyes widened ever so slightly. "And talking to me like that? Forro, I grant your wish. You can do the punishing tonight. Anyhow, soon you will be King. You need to know how to deal with these situations."

My eyes fell to his hips,where in place of his belt, was a whip. Forreston grinned, his smug eyes meeting my afraid ones.