Chapter Five

Entry

Sometimes I get these ghost touches. I have yet to write about them, but this is not the first occasion it's happened. Today it was a lift of my chin. Gentle, three fingers guiding my head to look up, look there, see them?

I see nothing-

It has been an arm around my shoulders or a soft nudge forward on my lower back. I don't know who the hand belongs to, but they guide me forward and make me continue in this hazy world. I don't know if I should curse or thank them.

Phoenix

--

Phoenix knew something was different the instant she made it to work. Whispers gave it away, paired with staring eyes judging just as loudly.

In place of where the Tournament stood lay a field of brown grass, crushed. The shooting range was missing targets, workout stations were nothing but grass pressed dead with memory; Felix must have run out of time to put everything back in order. But the most important building stood perched: the check-in for soldiers.

Phoenix's heel dove into the ground as her eyes scanned the three general lines forming: guards who would patrol the Highlands to the right, those who'd guard the castle on the farthest side, and a small line at the left for the women and children.

Left behind to train all day with little guidance or care.

Even after settling at the end of her line, a line no one had ever given a second thought to before, Phoenix felt it. Her ears ticked to the side at a harsh voices whispering. And there-

The sun warming her skin, a little too hot, a little too bright, a little too-

Her tongue rolling over her teeth, picking up any drop of water left in her body.

And then, space.

People in front of her, next to her, but not near her. As if they'd catch some disease if they got close enough to Phoenix. They'd catch the attention. The line disappeared too fast, and Phoenix was in the front.

"You'll be in squad one, in the castle. Your commander will give you instructions from there," the soldier directed her.

"What?" Phoenix asked. "I'm supposed to be with the other women."

"You heard me, report to your new commanding officer. Hurry up."

Phoenix glanced around. Everyone's stares banished themselves to the ground, to the sky, anywhere but Phoenix's face.

Phoenix found her spot in line on the other side of the yard, fellow women blocked from view by the men that now surrounded her. Close, tight, unforgiving. Inhale. This line was going to march to the castle. Exhale. Phoenix knew marches, her hair was tied back tight in a bun, and she wore the cap, she could blend in with the men.

The uniform didn't matter, Phoenix was short when lined up with the men, she stuck out, especially with everyone searching for the girl who won the Tournament.

"Is that her?"

"A woman with us?"

The voices now surrounded her, dancing in her mind; Phoenix felt dizzy.

"Ready!"

Phoenix's head snapped forward, stare straight into the head in front of her. The demand of the voice marked him as her new commander. Finally, time to head to the castle.

"March!"

Phoenix marched to the beat of an anxious heart, left, right, left, left, right. Out of everywhere on this planet, the castle was the place Phoenix knew least about. She had heard how big it was, and how boring it could be sitting outside guarding a door all day.

Please, give her a boring day.

A mile was marked when the long, grey barracks housing most of the soldiers passed by. A few soldiers lived in the Highlands, but the barracks was the primary home to all the men surrounding her. Commanders claimed there weren't any extra beds for Lowlanders.

Phoenix's eyes trailed up as it came into view: pillars of stone towering high above in four spirals, the base of which disappeared underneath a moat.

Two great griffins etched in stone greeted them, guarding the entrance as they crossed over the bridge into royal territory. Phoenix faced the granite columns that supported the enormous palace, stretching so wide she wondered how people managed to build something so ginormous. Purple flags hung from every corner. In the center of the flag roared a gold lion standing on a flaming comet, the same symbol stitched on everyone's uniform.

All Pheonix knew about the royal family was that they lived in the palace with the council. Together, they passed laws and ruled over Domum. No- Phoenix knew something else about the royals. She knew the palace was big enough to house plenty of struggling Lowlanders.

"Ready. Halt!"

A conjoined stomp marked the end of their march. The bridge was narrow enough that Phoenix guessed some soldiers remained on the other side of the moat.

Three knocks sounded on the polished oak front door, with gold birds as handles and vines for hinges. A man in a black and white suit opened the door, his crooked smile spiteful as he stepped aside for the commander to enter.

Phoenix noticed immediately- the servant was a Lowlander.

The hatred in his eyes said it all. She thought it was just a rumor that Lowlanders were servants in the castle, but this man proved otherwise. Servants must live in the palace full time.

The servant's eyes burned with loathing, and his forced smile revealed yellow, crooked teeth. A blaring bold spot stood out from the servant's head.

"Hello," the commander kept his body forward but graced the servant with a look from the side and a smirk. "How's your wife?"

Furry whirled in the doorman's eyes as he spat, "You know how she is. You used her and-"

The commander held up a hand to stop the servant from talking. "What a pity. I didn't realize you two were so… attached."

"She's my wife!" the doorman screeched in reply, losing all sense of his inferior Lowlander standing.

"Don't talk to me like that," the commander replied, unbothered. Like swatting a bug off his shoulder. The top of the commander's lip curled ever so slightly, giving away his arousal from belittling the servant.

"Remember your ranking," the commander lifted his chin. "Kneel."

Knowing he had no other choice, the servant simply bowed deep, his nose practically scraping the floor, no doubt hiding a seething face.

"I said kneel!"

The commander kicked the bowing man down with his foot until the servant fell on the ground. Without a second's hesitation, the commander continued the march forward. Phoenix's feet picked up the beat again, her eyes not daring to glance at the now weeping man as fellow soldiers spat on him with venomous words and saliva.

Remember to keep moving forward.

"Ready, halt!" the commander shouted, rendering everyone to a stop.

The Great Hall echoed the commander's orders. The hall, covered in hundreds of portraits of people Phoenix didn't recognize, rose at least five times higher than her own home. A grand staircase ascended from both sides of the room, connecting in the middle, with a long hallway running underneath. At the top of the staircase, doors upon doors divided plants and vases and mirrors and trinkets and gold.

A heel echoed.

Everyone dropped to the ground in a wave of obedience and Phoenix followed suit on instinct. Her eyes rolled up to look at the owner of those light taps, but she only caught a glimpse of the red heels that hugged two feet, pale as clouds free from rain.

A yell rang, and, in unison, the squad stood to meet their commander-in-chief.

It was a woman.

If her skin tone was snow, then her hair was fire. The red waterfall framed her face, rolling off and spilling down her shoulders and collecting above her elbows. Her blood-red lips matched her tight-fitting, high-collared dress. Behind the devilish mouth sat straight teeth of pure white, paired with the eyes of a cat, green and ready to kill.

The silky gown wrapped around her entire body and flared out behind her; rubies were sewn onto the fabric, highlighting her body from her neck to her ankles. Atop her head sat an elegant obsidian crown laced with a black gem with a glowing presence. No, the gem did more than glow, it seemed to lure all the light to its center and swallow it whole.

"Good morning, soldiers," she whispered delicately.

"We are at your service, your Majesty," the squad echoed.

It was the Queen.

It was the horrid, disgusting, mother-murdering Queen. It didn't matter that the council had final say on mom's execution, the Queen had just sat by and watched.

"Attention!" the commander called. "Report to your stations as read: Drew, Nickerson, Hardy, sector one."

Queen Amelia patiently waited for the commander to read out his daily report for the guards' plans. Like a statue carved from stone, the Queen remained silent, still. Phoenix could have sworn for a second Queen Amelia's eyes met hers, and although she was too far away to tell, it felt like Queen Amelia blinked at her in recognition.

How did a woman become in charge of the guard?

"Viloria," the commander's echoed throughout the room and the air went still, "report to me afterward."

Shit.

Calling Phoenix to report was obviously breaking routine if the guards' surprised glances were any indication. Yes, Phoenix had won the Tournament, but what if her commander knew that she had siblings she cared for?

Phoenix swallowed bitterly. She had won the Tournament of Crowns and was being called to her commander's office. Utter terror coursed through her as one thought pulsed in her head: this was what happened to mom.