Blurb:
Melinda Gray isn't really her name. She isn't really a Blood citizen, and technically, she's not really a member of the Blood army. Placed in enemy territory at a young age, being a spy is practically all that Melinda knows. Five years pretending to be someone else, cut off from the people she loves, has left its mark. But now it's all coming to a head; she's finally gotten an audience with the allusive Blood king. Just a few more weeks, months top, and she might be able to finally go home. Of course, in order to do that, she needs to remember who she really is, and that that girl absolutely, under no circumstances, can have real feelings for the king. Pretending is allowed, but what happens when the line blurs and Melinda finds herself in a reality made of smoke and mirrors?
Chapter 1:
She made her way across camp, sure
to keep her chin up and her shoulders squared. Fortunately she’d been told on
many occasions—and by many individuals—that bitch was her natural rest face, so
at least she didn’t have to worry so much about that.
Which was good, because inside she
was a swarming mess of tangled emotions, mostly of the negative variety. This
was it. After five years undercover in the Blood army her blood, sweat, and
secret tears were finally going to pay off. Today, it’d all come to fruition.
Everything she’d been through would be worth it.
Today she’d meet the king.
Of course, there was still the
slight chance that her being summoned wasn’t a good thing, like her superior,
Commander Elijah Morgan, claimed. She’d known the commander almost her entire
time in the Blood army, and over the course of the years had come to learn he
was an honest man.
Didn’t mean she trusted him,
however. She didn’t trust anyone. Not here, anyway.
If she’d been discovered, if
someone had somehow found out her true identity, there was little doubt in her
mind she was heading towards her funeral. Or worse. Considering her true
position back home, the king could always choose to barter her, or torture her
for information. Or both.
Her right hand tightened on the
hilt of the sword at her hip, and she instinctually scanned her surroundings as
she drew closer to the castle. They’d only arrived last night, and she hadn’t
even had enough time to change out of the heavy leather before she’d been
informed of this meeting. It’d left her little time to spare, and she’d ended
up sleeping in the blood red garb instead just so she could get an extra minute
of rest beforehand.
This was the first time in five
years she was ever going to step foot into the castle. For so long, she’d
dreamed of this moment, of getting close enough to the king to see how well she
could play the part. She wished she could kill him now, be done with it, but
the plan called for patience.
After five years, hers was running
pretty thin.
She thought of her sister, younger
by only ten months, and some of the bloodlust inside ebbed. She was doing this
for her, for all of her people. She could wait a little longer before taking
the king’s head, even if the opportunity did present itself today.
Two years ago, when she’d finally
been made a general, she’d thought she would get her chance. But no, the king
hadn’t the time to waste meeting another one of his soldiers, even one as
highly ranked as herself. Instead, she’d been given the title and directed to a
batch of her own men by Morgan.
She took all of her orders from
Morgan. At least, all the ones that came from the Blood.
The corner of her mouth began to
curve up and she caught it just as she reached the landing to the castle
stairs. A soldier flanked either side of the twenty feet across stone steps.
When they saw her uniform, they bowed their heads, but made no other moves.
She took the steps one at a time,
hoping not to come off too eager or concerned. In her chest, her heart pounded
so hard she thought for sure it’d crack a rib or two. What if this was a trap
and she had been caught after all? She wracked her brain, recollecting the
events of the past week. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She most
certainly hadn’t slipped up.
Hell, her last meeting with her
contact back home had been over three weeks ago. If they’d discovered her then
surely they wouldn’t have waited so long to say so.
At the top of the stairs were two
towering black doors. Again, a sentry stood at either side, nodding once as
they tugged them open allowing her to pass through. Inside the castle was
sprawling, the ceiling stretching higher than she could even begin to guess.
There was a smell, almost like cloves or a thick meadow, and clattering of
silverware and broomsticks from every direction.
There were more people bustling
about within than she would have thought, or liked, and she frowned slightly at
them all. Maids and butlers moved quickly, each distracted by their own tasks.
Briefly, she wondered what called for the massive cleaning spree, but then
someone stepped from a room to her right and the thought was pushed aside.
“Commander.” She tilted her head
down and kept her eyes on the vibrant red carpet that stretched from the front
doors thirty feet down to where another set of stairs led upwards to a new
floor.
Elijah Morgan was only ten years
her senior, but years of war had left him with wrinkles in the corners of his
mouth and eyes. That aside, his chocolate hair was thick and his gray eyes
attentive as ever. He was well fit, broad shoulders and corded muscles over his
arms and legs. She’d seen more of him during training and drills than she’d
have cared to, in fact.
When he was standing in front of
her, she finally lifted her head, ready to get on with it.
He gave her a once over and finding
her fit to meet the king, cocked his head. “This way.”
She followed close behind, leaving
a good foot and a half of space between them. Just enough that she could defend
herself if need be, and enough to appear the dutiful soldier. Here, she needed
to follow his orders, do as he said. Her smirk almost returned when she thought
of how different things would be if there were in another kingdom instead.
But they weren’t in another
kingdom, they were in Red, and therefore she needed to get a hold of her random
smiles. She couldn’t afford a crack in her armor this morning. Her reactions
were ironic, too, considering she’d been accused of being too stoic far more
times than she could count. It was a major reason why she’d been chosen for
this mission and not someone else.
When it’d come down to it, despite
all of their disagreements and protests, no one had been able to argue with
that one fact. She was the best option for this, possibly the only one who
could get the job done even. Her determination knew no bounds, and she could be
just as ruthless as the enemy when push came to shove.
Add all that to the fact she had
the best poker face in all three lands, and she was a shoo-in. Unless she was
currently walking towards her death, of course, in which case…crap.
Part of her felt guilty over that,
because her dying would mean her sister would inherit her responsibilities.
Knowing how much Aria didn’t want that, how badly she longed for a different
life, made her sick inside. Her hand tightened yet again on her sword hilt.
When she’d left five years ago,
she’d promised her sister she wouldn’t die. She fully intended to keep that
promise, or to at least try her damndest to.
Elijah led her down a long
corridor, taking them further into the castle and farther from the safety of
the front doors. No one had been able to supply her with a layout of the Red
castle, so she was as lost in here as if she’d been dropped in the center of a
maze and told to find her way out.
She tried to follow all of their
twists and turns, but it proved useless and her suspicion that this was a trap
grew. Was he purposefully trying to disorient her so she couldn’t find her way
back?
Finally, after about twenty minutes
of walking, they stopped at another set of double doors, these slightly smaller
than the entrance ones. They were made of thick black metal but trimmed in deep
burgundy. The handles were silver, and a sentry opened the door on the left for
them while the man to their right acted as if they weren’t even there.
Keeping her trepidation to herself,
she passed beneath the arch after Elijah, coming to a stop the moment the door
clicked almost silently shut at her back.
This room was a bit chillier than
the rest of the castle had been, and a quick glance out the two windows that
stood at either side showed they were elevated even higher. How many stairs had
they gone up? Two? Three?
The room was circular, but large
enough to fit four elephants comfortably. There was another door to her left,
which was currently unguarded and closed. Before her, a cherry wood table big
enough to seat eight was positioned before a cold fireplace. None of the
matching chairs were being occupied, though four men surrounding the center of
the table, all gazing down at something.
Though she wanted to see what it
was, she stayed put, waiting for the ok to move further. Here, being a general
wasn’t so impressive, not when there were commanders and advisors present.
She was just coming to the
realization that the king was absent when the other door swung open suddenly
with enough force to crack against the stone wall.
She angled her head, but made no
other sign of surprise. A second later, though, she had to bite her tongue to
keep the blank expression in place.
She’d never seen the king before,
not unless the back of his head from almost half a mile away counted, which she
didn’t think it did. Despite slaving away in his army, he’d never bothered
ordaining any of her men with his presence, so she was completely taken aback
now. Vaguely, she recalled someone trying to prepare her, but she couldn’t
place who at the moment. She must not have been paying attention, seeing as how it’d been at the start of all
this.
Then, she’d only cared about making
it into the army first, working her way up. Meeting the king had been years
down the line and she’d known it, so why bother with trivial details? She’d
been an idiot.
To say he was merely attractive
would be a travesty.
His hair was a shinny deep brown,
worn about half an inch too long to be considered put together. There was a bit
of scruff on his face, but aside from that there were no signs of how busy he
must be. His pants were so dark a red they were almost black, as was his
sleeveless shirt. The outfit fit him perfectly, giving everyone a good look at
his tanned arms. He was tall, definitely over six feet, and his eyes were a
deep violet.
He was also looking right at her.
She came back to herself in time to
process that Elijah had stepped back up to her side and was currently
introducing her. She made the appropriate bow and made sure that when she straightened
she didn’t stare at him so boldly.
“So this is her then,” the king
moved closer, not giving her the same courtesy. She felt his gaze roaming over
her body like fire and barely resisted the urge to punch him. “I see what you
mean, Commander Morgan. She seems strong.”
“Smart, too, your highness,” Elijah
added, and there might have even been a hint of pride in his tone.
“Smart enough to be useful, I
hope.”
“I’ve no doubt. She and her men
have taken out more of the Onyx than any others.”
“Including your own,” the king’s
mouth twitched slightly, “if word is to be believed.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “That happens
to be the case as well.”
“Good.” The king stopped directly
before her, waiting until she’d lifted her eyes to meet his once more.
She braced herself for a knife in
the gut, still holding onto the possibility that this was a trap. When all he
did was stare, her control faltered. She could feel him trying to feel her out,
get a read on her, and knew that if she didn’t allow something to slip, she’d
give herself away.
Quickly, she summoned an image of
her brother, murdered in cold blood when they’d been children. She held onto
that, the contours of his face, the blood splatters across his white cheeks.
She’d been the one to find him, had caught sight of the assassin, a woman
garbed in red, fleeing from the scene.
If only she’d been then what she
was now, she could have avenged him. Instead, her seven year old self had been
able to do nothing but cry and call for help.
She focused all her energy on how
she’d felt afterwards, the determination that had sprung up. The loyalty to
what remaining family she had left. And then she allowed some of those emotions
to slip through, passing them onto the king as if unwillingly.
Everyone knew about the Blood
family. It was said even that this king had more power than any others of his
line ever had. If that were true, she needed to be extra careful around him. She’d
had years to prepare for this, however, to hone her own abilities, and was
confident that she could fool him now.
Sure enough, another moment passed
and then he stepped back, moving towards the table. When it began to appear as
though he was dismissing her, he glanced at her over his shoulder and motioned
her forward with the crook of two fingers.
Glad to finally be getting a look
at what was on the table—and believing that she’d at least passed this first
test—she obeyed silently. Once there, her eyes scanned the map that’d been laid
out.
“This is the Black kingdom,” she
said softly, mostly to herself. As if of its own accord, her right hand reached
out and she touched one of the small red dots towards the right. A cropping of mountains
circled a medium sized city there.
Her eyes took in the four other
small red dots that bordered the outer edges of the mountains, mind racing to
process and translate this new data.
“You want to take Obsidian.”
Satisfied that she had it, she pulled back slightly and risked a glance in the
king’s direction. She froze when it was to find he was less than ten inches
away from her. She put more space between them, even going so far as to cross
her arms over her chest.
It wouldn’t do well to call
attention to the fact she was female, or the only one in the room for that
matter. She was aware of her role in the Blood army, that she was only one of
three total in her current position. There were women in the army as a whole,
sure, but none as high up the food chain as she was. It sometimes caused
problems, men thinking they could walk all over her because of her gender. Once
they got to know her a little better, i.e. she kicked their ass, they quickly
discarded that notion.
This was her first meeting with the
king, and while he was attractive, she couldn’t allow herself even a second of
swooning. Reminding herself why she was here, and who he really was helped dull
some of the attraction she felt towards him.
“Yes,” the king spoke then. “I do. I’ve been
told it’s next to impossible, however. What are your thoughts on the matter?”
“Obsidian is their highest guarded
city, aside from Coal where the royal family resides.” This time, she allowed a
bit of the smirk to show. “But nothing’s impossible, sire. Anything can be
conquered. Anything can be taken.” She glanced back at the spot on the vast map
again. “You just have to know how to go about doing it.”
“And how would you then?” he asked.
“Take it?”
Immediately her eyes wandered
towards the edge where the map tapered off and the page ended. If this were her
plan, her people’s mission, then she’d come in from the neighboring land. White
kept their borders carefully patrolled, but she could easily get them to lower
their guard enough for her and a small Blood army to pass.
That might cause undo suspicion,
however, not to mention she’d be helping evict one enemy for another. Something
told her the Snow family, those who ruled White, wouldn’t appreciate that.
“Here,” she tapped the edge before she could
change her mind. It was a risk, but in that moment home sickness gripped her,
and really, she couldn’t come up with something better under such short time.
“That’s White territory,” one of
the men across from them said. He had copper hair, which meant he wasn’t
royalty, and narrowed light brown eyes. Scanning his outfit told her that he
was also a Commander, and therefore needed her respect.
“It is,” she agreed, careful not to
let her ire show. Obvious much? “It’s also the safest way into Black. These
mountains,” she motioned to the two closest to the end of the map, “practically
fall on the border. We can sneak in through White; there are woods here, thick,
easy to hide in. By the time they see us coming, if they see us, it’ll be too late.”
“And if the Snow army catches us?”
Elijah was the one to ask. “Surely they watch that border as closely as we
watch our own lands that touch the Black kingdom. We could end up having to
fight two armies instead of one.”
“We can make it through,” she
assured him, hoping her confidence wouldn’t be taken the wrong way.
Of course, that was wishful
thinking.
“And how can you be so sure?” another
commander, this one with auburn hair questioned. “Have you been to those parts
before or something?”
She licked her lips and looked him
dead in the eyes. “Yes.”
Admitting it was bold, but she knew
she could handle it. A part of her even thrilled a little at the test.
“How so?” the king quirked a brow
and turned to lean a hip against the table. He mirrored her move and crossed
his arms, managing to appear both intimidating and casual all at once.
She wasn’t fooled though. Clearly
Elijah had given her a recommendation, but his word alone wasn’t enough to
guarantee she leave this room unscathed. If the king believed for even a moment
that she was playing him, she’d be locked away and tortured until she spilled.
Which would never happen
so…basically she’d end up being tortured to death. Didn’t really sound like
much fun.
“When I was a child.” The best lies
were those most closely resembling the truth. She could picture the woods even
now, after so many years. How the fir trees grew thick and the pine trees
towered high enough they blocked the dull gray sky. Her world was snow covered
and pure. Thinking about it made her lungs hitch and her yearn to breath the
frozen air.
“My parents took me, and my
brother. It was before the Unrest, before the war.” Her parents had loved those
woods, any woods really. They’d been outdoorsy people, just like she and her
siblings were.
“Why would they take you there?”
the first one, the copper haired man, asked.
“They wanted me to see the world,”
she said. “They wanted me to see all three kingdoms, and the best they had to
offer. We were on our way to Obsidian, in fact, having just left the Crystal
city.”
Thinking of the Crystal city proved
too much, and she quickly shoved those memories away before they could distract
her from the task at hand.
She looked back at the king, held
his gaze. “It is the best way, your majesty. And I can get us through.”
“Elijah’s vouched for you,” he told
her after a contemplative moment, “and I trust his opinion utmost among my men.
However, you and I have only just met, and I am a cautious man.”
“As well you should be,” she
commented, making sure to keep her tone even.
He chuckled, then stepped away from
the table, moving towards the same door he’d entered through. “I’ll think on
it, let the rest of the commanders try and come up with another way.” The king
paused with his hand on the knob and cocked his head as if just coming up with
an idea.
She was pretty sure it was all an
act however, and whatever he was about to say was something he’d planned on
saying all along.
“Have dinner with me tonight. I
need to see for myself that you’re all Commander Morgan has made you out to
be.” He wasn’t asking, that was obvious, and judging by the sparkle in his eyes,
he enjoyed wielding such power over her.
“Of course, your majesty.” This was
what she wanted, right? To get close to the king, to become one of his inner
circle. It was the only way.
“Keep at it,” he said to the
others, before he flashed her a grin. “It was nice to finally meet you,
Melinda.”
“Likewise, your majesty.”
Gods, she wanted to throw up.
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