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Because I’m obviously sheltered and naïve enough to have thought that tonight was going to go in an entirely different direction.
Truly, in my innocent little mind, I thought I’d be picking my prince charming tonight.
Instead, I’m choosing which boy will become my family’s next slave. Whoever I select will have his heart ripped out and eaten before his very eyes. Slowly. Most likely by Retsos himself. Though, even that might be a better fate than what awaits those who go unchosen…
“What is the hold up, Sophia?” Father asks. He steps up behind me and his long shadow makes the dark room even darker.
“I… I don’t know which one to choose.”
Ahead, behind a two-way mirror, stand a dozen boys, all under the age of eighteen. Some couldn’t be much older than me.
They are all drenched in blood—most of it from the opponents they were just forced to fight to the death with. But I can see some bone too. These boys are hurt.
They have dark hair and deep wounds and wide-terror filled eyes. And their fates rest in my tiny hands.
“Would you like my help?” Father asks, bending down to whisper in my ear.
His tone is all too familiar. Full of a barely restrained fury. I’m not being his strong, decisive princess. I’m acting like a little girl.
“No, I will choose,” I force myself to gulp. Clasping my hands together, I try to hide the shiver that’s taken over my body.
“And what are you looking for?” Father asks.
I know what the right response is. Strength. Weakness. A powerful body with a mind that we can break and mold as we see fit. For the past year, Father has sat down with me once every month and gone over the importance of this night, though never in direct detail.
Still, time after time, he tried to drill in the reality of it all, of this life I was born into. But all I could think about were my stories.
Gallant white knights of the round table. Dashing princes, charming and gorgeous. Heroes of the light. Vanquishers of the darkness.
I was going to be picking my own prince charming. My own protector. My own savior.
I was going to be picking a boy.
… I’d never met a boy before.
They don’t quite live up to my imagination.
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, a nice smile…” Before I realize what I’m saying, those words slip out from my lips like a quiet breath.
My father stands up.
My heart stops.
Oh no…
“We are not picking a suitor,’ Father rumbles. His rough hand clasps onto my shoulder and he whips me around to stare him in the face. His features are twisted in anger. “Have you not listened to a single word I’ve told you?”
I try to hold back my wince as his fingers dig painfully into my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Castor fidgeting. He wants to come help. But only one person in this room could lay a hand on my father and live. Retsos. And Retsos isn’t concerned about my safety. In fact, out of the corner of my other eye, I can see his Cheshire grin spreading through the darkness.
“I’ve listened, Papa,” I rasp, tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say anything to upset you…”
Just like that, my father’s iron grip snaps back. But he’s not done with me yet. Grabbing my other shoulder, he twists me back around to confront the boys behind the mirror.
“Then choose, and choose well, dear. Because life is no fairy tale. Hell, I should have burned your books long ago. The only reason I didn’t was because of your mother… but she’s gone now, and so is your childhood. You are my only family. My only heir. And if you don’t do as your told, everything will come crumbling down until there’s nothing left but darkness…”
“She’s just a little girl,” Castor blurts out, coming to my defence, despite the danger it puts him in.
“Shut your mouth!” Retsos retorts, his smile turning into a smirk. “How dare you interrupt such a touching moment between a father and his daughter.”
