Chapter 1

Five children stood in the courtyard that evening. Their faces were painted orange by the light of the torches held before them. Their eyes shone like glass from the tears they held in. All was silent.

There was a man clad in gold and velvet. He wore armor of the most intricate design. There were jewels and carvings upon its lustrous surface. Above the armor was a heavy cape the color of blood, spilling across the ground. And as if everything else was not enough, the man wore a crown. It was perched perfectly upon his dark hair. It's edges were sharp and the jewels were magnificent.

The King of Vendetta. Hadrien Niamere.

It was a figure of wealth and power before frames of poverty and fragility.

Behind each of the children was a guard with hands that grasped the hilt of their sheathed swords.

Hadrien stopped before the youngest of the children, a boy at the end of the line. He was so small. A shaky chin held high. Blue eyes calling forth any remaining strength. He couldn't have been any more than eight years old. The king towered over him, his dark eyes cold and calculating. The boy looked weak but brave, perhaps he had a chance.

The king slapped the child across the face, listened to him gasp, then moved down the line. He ignored the hatred radiating from the next girl's eyes. He noted the defiance and evident strength in those same eyes. She was older, perhaps eleven. She would do well, if she could move past her emotions.

Emotions were irrelevant in the Castle of Vendetta. Hadrien was King. He had no emotion. Everyone knew that.

Everyone believed that.

Except for him. But it didn't matter.

He moved past the girl without saying or doing anything. She needed no harsh awakening, she was already very much aware of the situation before her. Also, the king liked to be unpredictable in his actions. He liked to measure reactions. The girl, however, showed nothing. She simply glared, a look all too familiar to Hadrien.

He made his way down to the next three children. The first was a scrawny girl with bright green eyes and red hair. She couldn't have been much older than the previous girl. Then there were two boys. Twins. Interesting. They would lose, the both of them.

When Hadrien finished his examinations he placed his silent bet on the first girl he passed. He looked her over once more before turning and leaving. His personal guards trailed behind him. He strode into the castle, through the maze of hallways until he reached the entrance of the dungeons. He paused briefly before entering, only briefly.

The staircase was lit only by scattered torches. Orange flames  danced before him. His features were tight, his motions constricted. He felt a strange sense of claustrophobia. It was irrelevant.

When the stairs ended, the cells began. There were corridors of them. Metal bars and damp stone. The smell was unpleasant, at best. For a short moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to clear his mind. He was a man of gold. Impenetrable.

He walked down the second corridor, not stopping until he was only a few cells from the end. He didn't look to the sides, never once glancing at a single prisoner. Head held high, eyes set forward. The cell before him was unoccupied presently, but that would soon change.

All five of the children were brought before him yet again. The guards held their wrists and kicked their heels when they weren't moving forwards. They were thrown into the empty cell. All five of them. Eyes wide with fear. Did they know the fate that awaited them? Probably not.

Hadrien watched them stand utterly still with his lips pressed tightly together. When he spoke, their fear only seemed to greaten.

"You will receive no food or water until only one of you remain." His voice was low, hard. Made of gold. He had simply stated a fact. A fact he'd stated too many times.

At first, the children showed no emotion. Then, slowly, they processed the situation. Poor little children. Too young to die, but that didn't matter.

The dungeon was locked and the five guards were dismissed. It was as the king went to leave that he made a mistake. He glanced into a nearby cell. It was only a second, but it was enough. He recognized the face that looked back at him. The face of the stories. Undoubtedly, it was Evryn Valiere.

He'd seen her only once before. And he was so young. She was so young. He heard the stories of what she did. Killed four children with nothing but her hands, surviving with nothing but a scar that ran across her arm.

She was the beginning of everything.

Something sparked deep within him, but he couldn't tell what. He strode away much quicker than when he came, looking at nothing but the solid stone beneath him.

He slammed the door of his rooms behind him. What his guards must've thought. He had very nearly lost control. It couldn't happen again.

Below him were five children. Only one would live. A situation far too familiar. And, somehow, it was irrelevant. 

•••

Hadrien awoke the next morning to a knock. So early in the morning. The sun hadn't even risen. Quickly, the king threw on a robe and moved to the door. He glanced at his reflection. Rims under his eyes, like bruises. They never went away. His cheeks were hollow. He hadn't shaved in three days. A frown pulled at his lips.

He was a mess. But no one else would know.

Outside his door stood a guard. He spoke immediately. "Sorry to wake you, my lord, but there is a prisoner who demands a word with you."

"I don't believe there is any prisoner so privileged as to have a right to ask to speak with me. If it is so important, get the message from them and relay it to me yourself. Especially at such an hour."

"But sire, she —"

Hadrien's eyebrows raised slightly. "Who is this prisoner you speak of?"

The guard hesitated. "It is Evryn Valiere, sire."

His chest tightened. No emotion.

"And what made you think she deserves special treatment?"

It was fear, the king knew this. Everyone in the castle heard the story of the girl. Probably everyone in the country.

But she had never asked for anything before. She was simply a prisoner now, locked in a cell for nearly eight years. She had to be going insane in there. What harm could she do now?

When the guard gave no answer, Hadrien made his decision. "Bring her to the throne room in an hour. Tell her I'll be there to speak with her personally."

Perhaps it was time he formally met the girl that brought upon his misery.

The guard left to deliver his message and the king readied himself. Close to an hour later, there was another knock at his door. 

His Royal Advisor stood before him. Kendric Voye, with greying hair and a frame more than a head shorter than Hadrien's. He bowed before his king and spoke quite informally, contrary to the previous dramatized bow.

"Tell me what you were thinking." Kendric said, anger threatening to spill into his words. The advisor kept it contained, for the moment.

Hadrien waited a second before speaking, his voice smooth. "Which time are you referencing? Believe it or not, I've done quite a bit of thinking in my lifetime."

The older man blinked. "You cannot be serious. Where is your mind today Hadrien! Stop messing around. You know of what I speak."

That time, the anger flooded into his words. Hadrien looked at his advisor carefully, his words now taking on a more serious tone. "My mind is in the past, Kendric. Eight years to be exact."

Kendric frowned, some of his anger leaving him. He had no response.

So the king pushed passed the man and left his chambers. Enough was said. There were pools of sunlight on the stone ground beneath him. The corridors of the castle were lively that morning. All stopped what they were doing to nod their heads or bow to their king as he passed. Hadrien kept his features solid. He kept his eyes forward.

It took him a moment to realize that Kendric had followed him. The advisor puffed air to keep up with his long strides. The king didn't slow.

"The girl is a prisoner, a murderer Hadrien! Rethink your decision!"

"I will do no such thing."

The eldest gave up. He stopped walking and simply watched his king walk away. Hadrien didn't glance back.

The giant oak doors of throne room were pulled open by two guards.

It was only then that he slowed himself. When he crossed the threshold into the room, he instantly felt a sense of relief. It was almost as if a small weight was lifted from his shoulders. He was met with a vast amount of light. Far above him was a ceiling covered with colored windows. The sunlight painted the room. Shades of reds, blues, greens. It was a room fit for a king.

Stone pillars rose from the floor the  to ceiling, covered in intricate carvings. The marble floor was broken only by a thick blue carpet running through its center. It was upon that which he walked.

Under the paintings of light and between the columns of stone he felt both small and large at once. So unimportant and yet, at the same time, intensely important.

And at the end of it all sat his throne. Touched only by kings.

He had only just sat down when the door swung open yet again. Hadrien's features tightened. A King of impenetrable gold upon his magnificent throne.

The girl couldn't have been more out of place. She entered the room, wonder falling across her features. Hadrien wasn't sure what he expected to see from a girl locked in a cell for eight years, but it wasn't the figure before him.

If he could have used one word to describe Evryn Valiere as he saw her then, it would have been hollow. Her cheeks caved in, her tattered clothes were much too large on her scrawny figure. Each step proved a challenge.

Her eyes were fixed on the ground beneath her. Her hands were bound behind her. The guards around her positioned themselves on either side of his throne. Once they stopped, the room fell into a silence. A stillness that stretched all of the way up to the stained glass windows above.

Hadrien couldn't measure the girl's emotions as she bowed before him, for her face was still turned to the ground. He studied her for a moment longer before speaking. The girl who murdered four innocent children for no reason at all. The girl who had caused his father to go insane. The girl who survived eight years in the cell of a prison.

A girl who stood before him now as nothing but skin and bone.

"Look at me." A command. His voice echoed. He sat completely still.

Slowly, Evryn raised her head. Sapphire eyes looked at him. Perhaps those eyes were the only part of her that were still living. Those eyes were an ocean, a sea of feelings. Feelings of all kind. She let him see everything that dwelled in those blue eyes.

And then her lips curved to form a small smile. Hadrien couldn't read that smile, couldn't place what it meant.

"Thank you, sire, for agreeing to speak with me."  She spoke with a distinct uncertainty, her voice was rough and dry. It didn't echo as his did. "I have but one question to ask, if His Majesty so pleases."

Her expression didn't match her voice. The faint trace of the smile never left her lips as she spoke, yet her voice was so quiet and strained. There was no anger in her smile, like he would have guessed. No defiance. It was the smile of a broken girl with a small amount of hope.

And it deeply unsettled him. Hadrien placed his hands in his lap and wove his fingers together. Curiosity led him forward. "Continue."

Evryn grinned, and he didn't move a muscle. It was that moment that made him realize he made another mistake.

"Will you kill me?"