Young Writers Society

“Good morning!” a cheery voice said, the owner of it poking Valerie’s shoulders until she was sure they had bruised it.

“Get away from me,” she hissed, waving her arm in the vague direction of the person. A soft, cold hand grabbed her arm and pulled her up. Her eyes slowly focused until she could see a perfect, rounded face with a mane of blond hair and the same ghost eyes with light blue irises and grey pupils from yesterday.

She laid back down and heaved out a breath as she waited for Soleil to leave. But the Marquess just sat there, peering at her curiously for the first time since her makeup had seemed to come off and her hair became a tangled mess.

“Go away,” she growled. He just laughed and stood up.

“Manon will be here in a moment. Please don’t be fussy with your outfit, even though you’ll look dazzling in anything you put on.”

“You are a piece of work.”

“You just don’t understand my charisma.” He kissed her hand and gently closed the door.

Valerie sat up. It was the first time she had ever gotten a good look at the bedroom she had nearly passed out in the evening before. The walls were a light green, like the doors from her house before, and the entire room smelled like mint. The glass doors of the balcony were hidden by curtains of ivy vines, and Valerie could see the statue of a narwhal sitting in a corner. A white dresser with a mirror sat to her left instead of a closet, and a plain white note sat on top of the dresser with messy writing.

Valerie got up and read the letter.

Thank you for staying at Ivory Manor! We welcome you with open arms to the Marquess’ humble abode. Please keep in mind the expensive cost of cleaning up blood in such a clean home. We can’t end up with any accidents like last year.

Enjoy your stay!

“Really?” Valerie said to herself. She clicked her tongue. Part of her just wanted to brush the letter off as part of Soleil’s broken humor. But something told her this really was as unsettling as it seemed.

She crumpled up the paper and dropped it on the ground.

“Good morning, My Lady!” Manon said, making her way to the dresser and pulling out a few underskirts. “I hope you’re doing well?”

“I’m alright,” Valerie lied, plastering on a tiny grin. She found it impossible that anyone would dare ask that question. She had been taken away from her only home to the mansion of a lunatic.

How on earth could she be alright?

She took off her dress from before and stood in a t-pose as Manon tied on her hoop skirt. Valerie’s mind wandered back to the castle. She pretended like she was gazing up at her favorite tapestry, one of a grand creature that came only from legends. It had the body of a cat and a mop-like mane. It prowled the desert with its family and a sense of pride that always welled up in its throat when the other creatures supported it. It was one thing Valerie never had.

She could stare at that tapestry for hours.

Manon began to tie on the next skirt.

Like all things, Valerie’s good memory had to come to an end. She could picture herself as one of those creatures- but, one by one, the family members dwindled away like sand in the wind. You could never see them, but you could feel them when you breathed. A dry powder that made you want to die with them when you wheezed.

The one member of the family that you realized you had left was suddenly starved- and you had become its prey.

All four skirts were on, including the pale, peach-colored one with white bows in the middle. Manon picked up a stomacher from the dresser and got to work tying it as tight as she could. Valerie sucked in her stomach and held her breath.

“You’re very quiet,” Manon muttered, more to herself than Valerie. “Usually people like you love to tell me about their extravagant vacations or their other ballroom dresses. But not you.”

“I don’t have much to brag about,” Valerie sighed. Manon looked up with one brow furrowed.

“Says the Princess of Lustreia. I’m sure you have so much more than you realize. The King probably keeps it tucked away for later. When you’re older.”

There’s never a later with him.

Manon then put on her sleeves that draped down to her sides. She ran a brush through Valerie’s hair and applied a bit of blush. She painted her lips cherry red.

“For heaven’s sake, is that the only lip paint you have? It’s redder than a rose!” Valerie took a rag from a dresser drawer and wiped it off.

“Where am I to be headed off to?” Valerie asked as she sat down for Manon to put on her shoes.

“Just behind the building- to the shore.”

“No breakfast,” Valerie said, her voice laced with tiredness. “What a gracious host.”

“He really is better than you think,” Manon said, standing up after Valerie’s boots were laced. “If you simply trusted him-”

“Trust him?” Valerie chuckled, a bit nervously. “That’s the one thing he told me not to do.”

She stood up, wincing from her healing wound, and made her way down the staircase, through the hall, and to the shore.

This shoreline had a weeping willow at its edge, the strongest branch holding a child-sized swing. The foam of the water lapped up to the sandy grass, making it bend back and forth as it danced with the wind. Soleil sat on the swing, dipping his bare feet in the water as he watched the sunrise.

“Good morning to you too,” Valerie said flatly, making her way to him until the water lapped at the toes of her shoes. “Tell me why I must engage in this pointless endeavor immediately.”

Soleil tilted his head in her direction, but he didn’t stand up or turn around.

“Moments like this are precious,” he said, his voice slowly wandering into a whisper. “Before everything is gruesome.” He tucked his long hair behind his ear and looked up at the Princess. He didn’t display a cocky smile, a scowl, or any sort of emotion to her that she would have normally expected. His eyes simply flitted to and fro on her face, searching if there was any emotion in hers. It was quite clear she was angry.

“I thought you might like to watch the sunrise with me,” he said. “But you took so blasted long to get ready for the day that you missed it.”

“I would have tried to miss it anyway,” she spat at him. “Any good thing in this world is ruined by a cocky, royal little wanna-be like you.”

Soleil raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“Am I cocky?” He clicked his tongue. “I just don’t think you’ve yet acquired a taste for my natural charm.”

And there it was, exactly as Valerie had expected. No one she had ever met in power seemed like a good person- it had all gotten to their heads. The only difference with Valerie was that she could admit she acted proud or ruffled sometimes. It’s what made her distinct from hogs like the Marquess.

She lifted up the hem of her dress and walked closer to the swing Soleil sat on and watched as wet sand caked up on the heels of her boots. She scowled as he reached down and splashed a bit of water onto her dress, the fabric becoming a dark shade of auburn. He leaned back and mumbled a half-hearted apology.

“If you must play pranks, find someone less menacing to do them to,” she growled. “I have all sorts of resources at my disposal for an extravagant, petty revenge.”

“What resources?” he asked, scooting over on the miniature swing for Valerie to squeeze onto. “When you left, I was under the impression that you were banished.”

“Banished?” Valerie wheezed. The thought had never really occurred to her. When she had left, her father gave her the most vague explanation possible. She assumed it was because he couldn’t find the words to part with her that didn’t sound too crude. It was one of his many flaws.

But maybe he didn’t say anything because it was the last time he would see her. Maybe he didn’t say anything because saying nothing was better than saying an unwanted goodbye.

She sucked in a breath as she sat down on the swing, looking at the water that lapped at her shoes and made the grass dance with it. She didn’t want to look at anything else. If she looked up at Soleil, he would either give her mock pity or a cruel smile that expressed his joy at how much she had failed. She wasn’t prepared for either.

‘Maybe how I treat you is all you ever were; a disappointment.’

She had managed to push her father’s words out of her mind for over a day. She knew they were lies, bitter comments her father made to make himself appear higher to her. He knew that if he could break her down to a point of no return, she would be desperate for some sort of attention and do whatever he said. But he had failed to break her. And she wouldn’t let him win his little game now.

She lifted up her chin with a hint of a smile just as Soleil attempted to wrap his arms around her. She slapped his hand away and let out a quivering breath.

“He has not banished me.”

Soleil let out a snort. “How can you be so sure?”

Valerie turned her head and looked into his cold eyes.

“Because I’m the only one who’s willing to start a war against him if he does so.”

She picked her dress up again and got up from the swing, her draping sleeves slapping Soleil’s face as she did. She let herself smile as he got up and scowled.

“Must you be so dramatic?”

“Silence, Marquess,” she growled. “That was only step one of my petty revenge.”

He pressed his lips together tightly before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“And what is step two?”

“I thought it was obvious,” she said. “I’m going to go back to the castle and challenge the King.”

Soleil’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he heard her say that. If she had been in the carriage only a day ago, she would have smiled at the shock of the Marquess after how he had treated her. But this time, his shock only sparked her own genuine concern.

“What?” she asked. “What did I say?”

“Of all people, tomorrow, you will be the first to be killed.”

Valerie froze. The Marquess had clearly not gotten enough sleep if he thought such a thing. Despite her dainty appearance and soft features, Valerie did know how to wield a sword. She didn’t know how to wield it well, but she did know how to use it. And beyond that, anyone with half of a brain would know not to hurt her, lest they be executed.

“Fool,” Valerie hissed through her gritted teeth. “No one will dare try and touch me, or they’ll be executed.”

“Says the banished Princess without an ounce of power left for her.”

“I’m not banished.”

“Then what are you about to go fight for?”

Valerie could think of a list of things she was about to fight for; justice, revenge, her crown, if she was banished as Soleil suspected. Most importantly, she was about to fight for answers. All she wanted to know was why King Danah treated her how he did, and maybe, if there were other people related to her, that had outwitted the King and gone to live rightly earned lives of their own.

But Soleil was the one person she knew she would never tell her reasons to. She chewed the inside of her lip before she let out a cool, confident explanation.

“I don’t need to explain to you.” She cocked her head towards him and looked in the vague direction of his eyes. “All you need to know about is the handsome amount of pay I’ll give you if you help me on my journey.”

The Marquess tapped his chin as he considered her offer, pushing the swing back and forth with his long legs. He’d be stupid to dismiss an offer from the soon-to-be queen of Lustreia, and even more stupid not to consider the consequences of doing so. She could think of a million different punishments, but none of them seemed quite cruel enough. Part of her wanted to be a kind queen that was different than her father, and the other part of her wanted to explore her power and all of the directions it could be used in. She pushed away the latter when Soleil finally spoke.

“Help a pretty young lady on a journey that’s bound to get us both killed for a ‘handsome’ payment or stay in the comfort of my home where you’re still by my side?” His voice became a bit higher as he pretended to weigh both decisions.

“I can’t seem to decide.”

“Hopefully by the end of this you’ll want me dead anyway,” she scowled. “I have no intentions of warming up to you, Marquess.”

“Well, with that bold statement-” his eyes seemed to become a bit more blue than before-“I’ll have to accept your offer.”

Valerie’s lips parted with a hint of shock. Everything on Soleil’s face reeked of evil intentions, and despite her logical distrust, she was curious why he only accepted now.

“And why is that?” she asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you’re so incredibly headstrong on making me despise you, Princess Valerie, then I’ll just have to make sure the exact opposite happens. This journey is the perfect opportunity to make sure you’re obsessed with me by the time this is all over.” He slumped forward with his arm resting on his knees and cocked his head, his eyes wide as he tried to look innocent and perfect. “Is it not?”

Valerie cleared her throat and glared at him.

“You must get a better sense of humor before we leave tomorrow,” she said, unable to come up with a worthy insult of such a goblin of a man.

“And you need some proper training before we leave.”

“What does that mean?”

Soleil smiled as he pulled out two short swords with rusting silver handles and emblems of a heron. He threw one at Valerie, who caught it by her fingernails- before gripping his own and standing up.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked. “Run.”

Valerie sucked in a breath as Soleil cut through her sleeve, barely grazing her skin, and reeled his sword back for another slice. She picked up her skirt, wincing from the pain of her healing wound, and began to run as fast as she could towards the mansion. She kicked up sand in her path as she hopped onto the stairs, groaning from the pressure on her leg, and swung open the large, white doors of the building. She could hear Soleil’s heavy breath behind her as she slipped inside. The doors creaked shut behind her.

Valerie didn’t know where to go. She knew the dining room was only a door away and she’d nearly kill herself trying to get back to her room, but going up the stairs still felt safer than going into the near-empty room where Soleil could easily kill her if he liked.

Her chest heaved as she struggled to make the decision.

A firm, but gentle arm wrapped around her waist, preventing her from escape. She held in a whimper as Soleil held his sword to her stomach and whispered in a sweet voice into her ear.

“Fight me,” he told her. “It would be a shame to waste my skills on the pretty little thorn in my side.”

“Then don’t,” she growled, trying not to fold over. “Just set me free of whatever this madness is, and I might have the decency not to execute you.”

“Time is ticking,” he hummed, pressing the sword a little bit harder.

Valerie gained a bit of bravery and slipped her sword through her hands until it was parallel to Soleil’s arm. She slashed through his arm until the blade reached the bone, his grip on her falling to his side as she quickly limped into the dining room and locked the door. Soleil happened to have the key to the door, unlocking it quickly and finding Valerie pressed behind it. She let out a quivering breath as she tried to look for any sort of exit.

Beside her was a pair of swinging gold doors, and an infectious amount of lighthearted chatter behind it. Valerie held her breath as she slipped into the shining doors, hoping Soleil didn’t see her as he looked around the other side of the room, clenching his arm as its blood dripped onto shimmering marble tiles.

Inside of the two doors was a bustling kitchen filled with light laughter. Waiters bustled in and out of a pantry as they delivered ingredients to chefs dressed in white brighter than the dress of a bride. A few, younger chefs, probably apprentices, halfheartedly dumped vegetables into pots or lazily chopped up meat. They seemed much more preoccupied with each other’s banter, which was louder than the cooking food. A delicious, hearty aroma of duck fat and potatoes filled the air as a few waiters began to plate the meal.

Valerie froze as she heard people wailing from behind. “Get out of my way,” a voice growled, a few people groaning as she heard them being shoved. Valerie limped towards the end of the kitchen, near the pantry, trying to dodge the worried staff that rushed to find their injured peers. Soleil made his way to Valerie before she could reach the pantry, blocking her weakly thought-out exit. She let out a stifling sigh and looked at his blood-stained sleeves. Despite his horrible injury, he had a good grip on his sword, and his face seemed to display a sort of crooked humor.

Valerie’s head swished back and forth as she looked for any sort of weapon. Somewhere along the way she had lost her sword, and even if she did have it, the sight of blood on Soleil’s arm sickened her. She was sure she could find a cleaner fighting approach. Maybe.

There! On the stove beside her was a small pot of water that had just reached a boil. Burning the Marquess seemed much less ghastly than cutting him. She wrapped her draping sleeves around her hands and picked up the pot. She smiled as Soleil’s face drained of color.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, daring to step an inch closer to him. His broken forearm seemed to go limp, the sword slipping a bit through his fingers. She was afraid it would snap off.

“You can’t kill me with boiling water,” he said, his voice on the verge of a nervous chuckle. “And you love me too much to try.”

She clenched her jaw.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Soleil raised his good arm up in what seemed to be surrender. “Alright, alright. You win. I just wanted to make sure you were prepared for tomorrow. Nothing personal.”

His hand slowly drooped down when he realized Valerie didn’t give out. Her face stayed clenched in the most hideous scowl she could think of, and her teeth were bared like a dog’s. If she had any overgrown nails, she would have held them out like claws, waiting to scratch him. She wished she had appeared a bit more frightening at that moment. But she just looked delicate; a bit worn, perhaps. Nothing frightening. That’s what made it easy for her father to make her his prey.

“Drop the sword,” she finally managed to tell him. Soleil let out a wary breath as the sword slipped from his grip.

“Kick it over,” she growled.

“Do you really think that’s going to do anything?” he growled. Valerie’s mouth quirked but she said nothing. The Marquess lifted his head up and sighed, kicking the sword over to the princess. She stopped it with her foot.

“You fought better than I thought you would,” he smiled. “Maybe you won’t need as much training as I anticipated.”

“Training?” Valerie asked. “That’s what you call this extravaganza? I could have killed you, Marquess. And you could have done the same to me.”

“This was only to test your skills. I would have found it worthless to train you if we were starting from square one. But, it seems you’re more ruthless than I thought.” He nodded at his severed arm with a smile that hinted at pride.

Valerie stayed silent for a moment. She would never want to be called ruthless. Being ruthless didn’t just mean being violent. In her eyes, being ruthless meant being cold. Lazy, even. As if you didn’t have the energy to care about someone other than yourself.

The princess picked up the sword from where it lay by her feet. Unlike Valerie’s sword, it was speckled with blood, but still a pristine silver that shone more than anything else in the room. She held the handle of the sword in one hand and began limping to the staircase. Soleil quickly caught up to her.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my room.”

“But we still have a lot of training to do.”

Valerie eyed him as she fought a cruel smile. “I have proved to be self-sufficient in wielding a sword. And what would we even do during training, me having a limp and your arm torn to shreds?” She clicked her tongue and chuckled. “I suspect you never think things through.”

“I think much more than you realize,” he huffed. Valerie eyed him but said nothing.

“If you want your arm to be treated, you should probably walk faster.”

Soleil froze for a moment.

“What do you mean, treated?”

Valerie frowned.

“I never want you to call me ruthless,” she growled. “Again. Maybe if I fix your arm, you’ll see me in a different light.” She lifted her chin. “One of respect and awe. Maybe even with glory.”

“So you don’t hate me anymore?”

“I never said such a ridiculous thing, either.”