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by Pixie
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #2013077
Five years later . . .
Five Years Later...



One

         “Do not speak unless spoken to.  Do not make eye contact unless you are directed to.  When you do speak it will be only to discuss common pleasantries such as the weather or sewing...Are you listening, Lilliana?” Father Sevrin's question in accompanied by the lash of his whipping cane across the backs of my shackled hands.

         “Sorry Father,” I am quick to respond, failure not to will only result in another lash, or worse.  I fight the urge to nurse the stinging pain, tucking my hands into my lap.  “I am listening.”

         Father Sevrin scoffs before continuing his sermon, “First and foremost your loyalty is to your King, no matter what atrocities you may think him capable of.  You are his life blood, his child, and as such you have a responsibility to honor him not only as a King but as a father as well...”

         I am not listening.  I have heard these words thousands of times in the past five years. Words and rules that have been beaten into my conscience to make me an obedient daughter. Another submissive woman to serve the needs of men, however vile they may be. A woman who will not question, challenge, or disobey.

         I may as well have been touched by a Kolli and turned into a puppet without strings.

         Now is the time for Father Sevrin to deliver on his promise to the King. He is returning me home to Alena; to mother and Nalia. I am returning to the King, and Daniel, and the man I am to marry, Joshua.

         Joshua is a knight.  One of the best in the land according to his reputation.  He lives life without fear, charging into any battle he faces head on. That is why the King wants him to lead his army, because he acts on impulse without a thought for the consequences.  The Kings letter described him as fierce, cunning, and courageous beyond measure. A true champion who deserves a prize befitting his status, a princess as his bride.

         The thought of marriage leaves me ill. My childhood fantasies of love, marriage and happily ever after endings were shattered the day the King punished me and the only one who tried to save me was my mother. No heroes came to my rescue. The King beat me, cracked enough ribs to keep me bed ridden for months, and left me as a bloody heap on the floor. He got rid of me after that, exiled me into the hands of Father Sevrin to be properly trained.

         Training that bordered on torture more often than not.  The priests exploited weakness, sought out the hidden fears in each soul turned over for 'obedience training'. The defiance of my youth, the girl with naive delusions of grandeur and heroism, lost her standing. I was no match for the cruelty the men of the cloth delighted in delivering. The whip of the cane was not enough to tame my spirit, I forced their hands, brought about my own misery for two years until I broke.

         “...the King is going to want a demonstration to prove that you have learned your place and it would be best for both of us if you do as you are told...Lilli!”

         My eyes snap to his face, lowering as quickly, “Sorry Father...”

         “If you were not about to greet your future husband I would cane your backside, as it is the King requested I refrain from punishing you...for appearances sake,” Father Sevrin snorts, the switch in his hand tapping in agitation against his leg.

         I watch it, moving in rhythm with the swaying of the carriage. I like knowing that it annoys him that he can not whip me the way he would like to.  It has been a year since I have given him the pleasure of caning me bloody. One slip of the tongue was all it took to get me thirty lashes. After that I kept quiet, biting my lower lip to keep myself from voicing my thoughts. Better to stay quiet than to deal with the pain that accompanies my defiance.

         We travel in silence the remainder of our journey. Father Sevrin's growing apprehension evident the closer we get to Alena. I want to ask him if he is scared, frightened to face the tyrant King, not that I need the answer. I know he is. If he fails the King will 'punish' him before the royal court, strip away his self-righteous dignity and expose him for the coward that he is.
         Then the King will turn on me...maybe even kill me, if I am lucky.

         Father Sevrin is nodding off, giving me the courage I need to peek out the curtained window beside my seat. We are traveling north from the temple, nearing not only Alena but the border separating the land of light from the darkness. The jagged black rocks of the northern mountains consume the distant horizon, a reminder that the Kolli and hell on earth exist.

         The Kolli are demons with the power of gods. Under the guise of being mortal men and women, they wreak a special kind of havoc on our lives. The Kolli feed on emotions. Their favorites being fear and innocence. It is said that one touch of their tainted skin is all that it takes to let one inside your mind. Once a Kolli is in the possibilities of what they can do are endless, or so the tales say. I do not have time to fear the shadowy demons that hide in a land where the sun fears to shine. I have my own demons waiting to devour me as soon as I enter Alena.

         It is a grand masquerade that consumes the horizon the closer we get, the grand kingdom of King Phillip, Alena.  The white marble towers shimmer like false beacons of hope in the afternoon sun.
         
         I let the curtain drop. Father Sevrin is watching me.

         “I trust you are willing to cooperate and stay the course, it would be a shame to greet your fiance in chains,” he says. He pulls the key to my freedom from around his neck.

         I nod slowly, holding out my wrists. The key slides into the lock, nearly turns, and then he stops. “You are still shackled, even without these iron bars around your wrists, never forget that. If you run here, there will be no one to save you. For your own good, and the good of the kingdom, do as I have taught you – I doubt the King will be as forgiving as I have been.”

         He turns the keys and slides the weight from my wrists. I pull my hands to my breast, massaging the bruised flesh around my wrists. The carriage stops.

         “You are at the mercy of your King now, child, be wise in your actions, and your words. Like the Kolli's hell, Noctaria, those who leave Alena do not return. You are a first,” Father Sevrin stands, straightening his robes as the carriage door opens. He climbs down an turns to me.

         “Come on then, slide over here so I can unlock your ankles,” he motions at me key in hand.

         I slide across the seat, lifting my ankles and reveling in the weight lifted from my limbs. Father Sevrin does not give me time to savor my freedom. He helps me from the carriage and I stare up at Alena, a castle that, by appearance, belongs in a fairy tale with its white marble walls and lush countryside stretching in every direction but one. The main gates face north, as if waiting to welcome the Kolli across the threshold.


         “Lilliana!” Father Sevrin snaps at me his bony fingers biting into my upper arm and ushering me ahead.

         I drag my feet, resisting buried memories that are now clawing their way to the surface with each step I take. I would rather stay with the priests, being humbled and whipped, than to be home. At least with the priests I knew what was going to happen, here, at the mercy of the King all I have is trepidation. We are through the gates too soon, walking up the stairs and stopping at the main doors with a finely dressed guard on either side.

         Both men look past the priest to me, pitiful recognition flashing in their eyes. I bow my head, my stomach churning at the thought of how many others in the castle will give me the same pitying stares. Pity because none of them did anything to save me, just like none of them did anything to stop the King from getting away with murder.

         We are at the doors to the great hall when it occurs to me I should run. If not for the hand locked around my arm I would. As it is the doors open and I am yanked into the massive room before I can attempt to flee. I hear the doors close and know there are guards positioned with the sole purpose of keeping me in.

         The silence is deafening. Every eye in the room locked on me in disbelief. I do not have to look up to know this, I can feel the burn of their stares on my skin. Father Sevrin said I was a first, no one who “leaves” Alena has ever returned. They likely all believed I was dead. Which means Nalia and mother thought that too.

         “Ah, Father Sevrin, I trust you made the trip without any upsets along the way?” the Kings pompous question shatters the silence.

         “Your Majesty, it was an, uneventful journey. You will find your daughters demeanor much improved from when you last saw her,” Father Sevrin replies, fear in his voice. Fear that I will turn him into a liar if I choose to act out.
         
         If I were to turn in this moment, forgo the main doors and head straight for the King's private entertaining chamber I could escape. There is an entrance into the passageways beside the fireplace, five stones down, second to the right. I could vanish between the castle walls without ever being found. They would try to find me, but even the King does not know all the entry points, and even if he did there are few willing to chance getting lost in the maze of passages.

         “Lilliana!” the King snaps my name, laughing when I look up startled. I meet the smug satisfaction in his eyes, the grin up triumph shining through his beard. “Always were a jumpy one, you were, never could count on you to keep a cool head. Never a thought for any words you spoke, driven by the naive impulses of a child, tell me, truthfully, have the priests truly broken you or are you putting on another show for me?”

         “Yes,” I lie, we both know it is a lie, the King and I. I would not be his daughter if I had let the priests completely destroy me.

         “Good, it will be a shame if I have to remind you of your place, especially in front of you future lord and husband,” the King pauses, the intensity of his attention leaving my face and turning toward the man standing behind him, “Joshua, my boy, come meet your bride.”
© Copyright 2014 Pixie (amoura_renee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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