Page 7 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

The warped door slams shut behind me. I wince at the disrespect, but I don’t stop moving. Not when the cool morning air bites into my flushed cheeks. Not when my dramatic behavior catches the baker’s attention. Not when I hear the familiar footfalls of the boots trailing after me.

Sadness, anger, hopelessness, and frustration war within me. I need space. I need to breathe.

Lev waits until we reach the road that leads back to the healing quarters to finally call out, “Elara. Wait.”

Debris stabs the soles of my feet, but I don’t slow down.

“Elara, stop!” Lev grabs my arm. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” I whirl around. My hair flares out and sticks to my cheek. I swipe it away. “What’s wrong?”

His brown eyes search mine, and he inches closer, invading my personal space, cupping my cheek. “Yes. Tell me what just happened. Talk to me.”

But that’s the thing… I can’t.

I can’t talk about magic with Lev. I can’t talk about my parents.

I want to tell him to forget it, but I know Lev. When he’s concerned, there’s nothing he won’t do to try and make things better. He won’t allow me to back out of this conversation without discussing something.

So, I grab onto the second-most bothersome thing to happen today.

“Fief abuses his wife,” I snap, a fresh jolt of anger coursing through my veins as I remember the terrible things the man said about his son. “I’d bet my last coin he abuses his poor son, too. And yet there is nothing I can do about it.”

“That’s not true. The Elders⁠—”

“Don’t care about anything but their precious mines and enabling the soldiers who protect the town from beasts and raiders.” I shake my head. “It isn’t fair, Lev.”

I don’t remember my parents, but I know they didn’t deserve their fate. Juniper says they were kind. They were good. And yet, people like Fief get to run amok while my mom and dad are…gone.

Lev sighs and runs a hand through his thick hair. “I know. I know it's not fair.”

“And yet he gets away with it.” I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “And you…you just accept it.”

His jaw tenses. “I do not accept it.”

For a heartbeat, Lev’s image as an imposing soldier vanishes. In his place stands the boy I once chased through the forest, the one who kissed me beneath the canopy of stars…the one who saw worth in me even though I was Kinless. That boy is here again, ready to defy the town’s rules, ready to fight for something greater than himself.

“But every Verdanthian, man or woman, must do what they can with the hand they are dealt,” he adds. “It is not for me to defy the Elders’ rules.”

The illusion shatters. Disappointment tears through me, but the fight trails out of my exhausted body. We’ve discussed this subject before, always with the same outcome. Why did I think today would be different?

“I need to get back to the barracks.” I turn away and hike my satchel higher on my shoulder. “I imagine there is a line of new recruits with fresh wounds waiting to see me.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Unable to think of a reason why he shouldn’t, I nod.

Lev falls into step at my side. Silence stretches between us, filled with words we both wish we could say, but know will not make a difference.

We pass through the market, several in the crowd waving at Lev. My closest friend’s waves are more subdued.

When we reach the barracks, Lev leans in and places a kiss on my cheek before turning on his heel and walking away.

I watch him go, my lips pressed together to refrain from complaining about everything in our life that I wish I could change, while the magic inside me pulses, aching for a release that never comes.

In this world, there are countless dangers that keep Verdanthians on our toes—that fuel our fear in this dark world the Fae created when they conquered our continent.

Our fragility—our mortality—is drilled into us at a young age. It is our main disadvantage when compared to our Fae overlords. Though it’s not the only one.