*Daphne*
A rush of emotions coursed through as I felt Rion kiss back more passionately than I had expected.
At first, the kiss was never ant to be more than a ruse to get that cretin off of our backs and leave us alone.
My intention was for us to get on our way, but it seed over the next few passing seconds between us that the kiss had slipped into so much more than that.
As he kissed back, the visions from earlier inside Rion’s head returned, and it was at that mont that I realized that they were not dreams, not now, and not the first ti I had experienced them.
They were mories, and more ca rushing into my mind. I could not fight them and I found myself not wanting to. They flooded my mind, and they were dark.
I watched him from a bird’s eye view once again, flowing on the ethereal winds of his mories like a spirit bird just over his shoulder. He was sold by rough traders. n with salty, aty hands pushed him.
He entered the seedy underbelly of the capital city, so young and vulnerable but with such a strong will and determination to live that I had never before witnessed in person. It made feel lightheaded.
He was forced into the seedy underbelly by the hands of child traders. Bits of mories were blocked out or blurred, though I was unsure whether that was his conscious’ doing or so other sensory overload that had forced his brain to shut down and keep those mories out.
He endured this torture, all while mourning the loss of his sister. I fought back a wave of horrified sorrow as I realized he assud she was to be sold as a breeder.
In the next mont, we parted and the mories faded away, revealing the current situation that had led to our kiss. I was astounded by the brightness of the trees in the forest surrounding us, and the steely gray eyes in front of gazing back at .
I realized, looking in those gray eyes, why Rion hated my parents so much. But they were not evil as he believed. They would have never let that happen if they had known that was how the course of the events unfolded.
They never intended for that to happen to them as children. It took a few seconds to realize that I had completely forgotten about who surrounded us as I opened my mouth to speak to Rion to tell him this, but the gross cretin of a man’s brutal voice interrupted .
“Nice try, princess. We know all about Hestia’s followers and this guy’s sister. It’s no secret. Word travels fast in a little area like this when you know the right people. You can co the easy way or the hard way.”
A low growl caused to turn to face Rion and he began to shift. I glanced around and found his n had shifted as well. The gross man and his crew started taking out weapons, and I knew that a fight would break out.
Whatever was happening between and Rion, naly the weird visions that kept getting into my head, didn’t matter at that mont. Whoever won in that skirmish didn’t matter either. As far as I was concerned, they were just my two enemies fighting each other.
In fact, I was sure that either way, I was getting the short end of the stick. If the gross guy won, I had no doubt that he and his friends would have had absolutely no problem passing around and having their fill of until I was a husk.
On the other hand, all Rion cared about was exchanging for his sister, and I couldn’t believe my situation would be much better when I was in the hands of the group he was trading to.
Neither choice was any good.
All that mattered was getting out of there.
The perfect opportunity for to escape soon unveiled itself as the two groups ran headlong for each other. I crept away, going deeper into the forest until they had no way of getting to without severely undermining themselves in the fight.
I ran as fast as I could into the dark forest. Since it was daylight, I had less trouble than before weaving through the trees, and I even released a soft laugh of relief as I zipped through them.
I tried to make it back to the tunnel entrance.
If I was lucky, a Royal would be passing through looking for . That was all I needed for my salvation.
Then, it began to rain. I kept running, hoping that it would only be a trickle, but within a few minutes of puddle dodging, I slipped over a slick log and felt my ankle twist.
I let loose a shriek of pain as I dove down and tumbled head over heels down a steep hill. Mud and rainwater splashed all over my front, soaking . I managed to drag myself and got enough stamina to hobble over to a tree I could lean against.
This was definitely not good.
Cold rain poured relentlessly from the leaves above and soaked through my clothes. Within seconds, body rattling shivers rattled my body.
My first thought was of Rhys. I wondered if he was doing okay and wondered if my mom, in all of this ss of searching for , was able to keep reading to him. He needed a voice to follow back ho.
Then, my thoughts wandered back to the palace and my own childhood. It was a mory that had been lost to the fog of ti, only to resurrect in that instant.
At first I was unsure why. It seed irrelevant, but my tired mind could no longer put up a fight, and I surrendered to the felling of warm tiles inside the palace, and the sll of baking desserts.
The scent of chocolate and buttery croissants filled my senses. I was young and so excited for dessert. The maid on duty that night always baked my favorite when it rained.
I watched the rain pelt the palace kitchen windows, while I was safe and warm inside. Mother never let in the kitchen. She always told to keep out of the chef’s way while they baked so as not to cause an accident.
But the kitchen was empty except for the maids that night, and they always liked my company.
The maid served up a bowl of lted chocolate with a croissant to dip in it.
I carried my treats into the dining room, where my parents talked at the other end of the long table. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice .
But I saw a little boy with dark hair and silvery gray eyes. He looked skinny and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was with a little girl who bore a striking resemblance to him.
They sat next to a butler on a bench near the dining room door leading to the rest of the palace. I rembered that they looked worried, or bored. I was too distracted by my dessert to determine the difference.
My parents spoke in hushed tones that echoed in the high ceiling of the palace. In that room, it didn’t matter how low soone spoke or if they whispered. Their voice always carried on the marble walls.
“They have been here too long already. We need to get them to safety where no one knows who they are,” I heard my mother whisper urgently.
I stopped chewing the croissant and glanced over, hoping they didn’t notice listening in. My mother used the sa tone that she normally labeled as “grown-up talk.”
It was a way for to know that the conversation was not ant for to witness. Normally if I got caught up in these conversations, I would tune it out, but this one seed to be directed at those two children.
They intrigued . I had never seen children so skinny and tired-looking before. I felt bad for them and wanted to help them.
But I also couldn’t let my mom know that I had listened in on their conversation. I dipped the last chunk of my croissant into the last swath of chocolate sauce in my bowl and got up, scooting the chair too loudly.
The conversation ended abruptly. My mom shot a glance. Her smile seed forced, even to as a little kid.
“Daphne, what are you doing in here?”
“Eating dessert,” I answered.
“It’s your bedti. You should go, this is grown-up talk.”
My assumption earlier was correct.
“Can I have so more croissants?” I asked.
My father rubbed his temples. “Listen to your mother, Daphne.”
I didn’t want to upset them further, so I took my dishes into the kitchen and went up to bed.
I laid in bed that night, unable to sleep. The image of those two other children remained stamped into my mind.
I wanted to help them. They seed so sad and had a lost look in their eyes. They needed my help.
I crept to my bedroom door and listened. My parent’s room was not far down the hall, but I could not hear them getting ready for bed at their usual ti.
I opened the door and peered down the dark hall, then crept down the stairs back toward the kitchen and dining hall. I could still hear their voices, only this ti, the discussion sounded more like an argunt.
I peeked through the kitchen door, into the dining room, but could not find the other children. I left the kitchen and wandered around, then heard the voices of other children not too far away.
I followed the voices into a part of the palace I had never been to before. Later, I learned that this part of the palace was reserved for the servants and the children my parents kept as refugees.
There was a large room that didn’t look to be kept up very well. Old toys littered the room. The fireplace made it a little better. I looked around and found the two children I had seen earlier surrounded by the staff children.
They were pointing fingers at the two children, gawking and making faces at them.
“Stop it!” I cried, rushing for the crowd of jeering children.
They all froze when they recognized . The staff children bowed, but I ignored them and went into the center of the taunting ring to the two children.
They looked more tired than they had been earlier. I grabbed their hands and led them out of the room.
They said nothing as I led them back to the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, glancing around for a maid, but I found that more croissants from earlier had been left out next to a big bowl of chocolate sauce.
“I guess,” the boy said.
His growling stomach betrayed his lack of enthusiasm. I found three bowls and plates and served them so chocolate and croissants.
I handed them the dessert, which they both stared at. The boy looked at with genuine gratitude.
“Thanks.”
The girl was quiet but obviously happy to receive the warm chocolate and sweet bread all the sa. They ate in silence and halfway through, smiles crossed their faces and color ca to their pale cheeks.
We continued eating until our bellies were full and my mother appeared to tell to get back to bed. I smiled at the two before I ran back to bed.
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