Burning Bridges (14 page)

The sun had already begun to set high above the clouds and the market shops were closing up. On a Saturday evening, I knew people were preparing for Mass the next day.

T
he way back to the
palace was quiet and solemn.
Shadow noticed my odd silence and said,
“
What
’
s this all about?
”

I shrugged.
“
How do you mean?
”

“
You
’
re angry, but I don
’
t know what about.
”

I shook my head and pretended not to care.
Of course I was angry. I wanted
to learn how to fight
now
. And i
f I could prove to F
ather that I could be a Tigress too, maybe he
’
d cancel the wedding.

I stopped.

The thought didn
’
t make any sense at first, but the more I thought about it, the more the truth became clear. My eagerness to learn came from my unwillingness to be ma
rried off to some jerk.
Would F
ather even care? Or would he be angry?
I bristled at the fact that my Father
’
s opinion in this
actually mattered. F
inding common ground with him
was
possible
,
and as much as I had always thought highly of him,
I was sick of being his sweet, little princess who did everything right. I was sick to my stomach and I
’
d had enough.

“
If you
’
re really so worried about the family, maybe you should talk to Mother.
”
Before she could make any sense of what I said, I lunged for the
palace
doors, pushed passed the guards, and made my way
to the back of the
palace
. I had no intentions of locking myself in my room like I did the night before, and Issy was out of town for a while
—
the nomad that she was
.

Eventually, I found myself wandering out to the garden at the rear of the
palace
, not looking for anything in particular except silence. I followed the stoned path to the garden and held my dress up from the hem. Just above me I could
hear the sounds of the morning N
ightingales,
New Haven
’
s one and only
, and they sung of
happiness and joy
. I hummed along as I
found the bench seat near the bleeding h
eart garden.

I hadn
’
t come out here much since Shadow left for war, I realized, but it was a peaceful place
,
nonetheless.
The
day I stormed out of the house I hadn
’
t been thinking, I just need
ed
to get away. It was only instinct that I came here. This was my escape
when reality got too cold, when the truth became too much. I
had
never enjoyed the idea of being a princess. I
would
watch the other little boys and girls playing from my window and long to be one of them. I wasn
’
t allowed to leave the
palace
without a guard, and even now I wasn
’
t supposed to
leave without someone with me.
It bothered me that Mother protected me so much, even at the age of seventeen. Would it always be like this? Surrounded by a world I didn
’
t understand but forbidden to explore it?

If it was, I didn
’
t know how much more I could take of it.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me and I resisted the urge to turn around. I became oddly aware that I didn
’
t even care who it was, I just hoped they wouldn
’
t notice me. Not that I could disappear or anything, but a girl could dream.

“
Echo,
”
my father said.

I stared blankly ahead, ignoring the way his voice sent chills down my spine.
I wanted to talk to him, but I had nothing to say
.

“
I understand your anger but do not forget who you are dealing with. Know your place.
”

I cringed, my hands curling into tight fists, and said,
“
I
’
m sorry. I
’
d think this would be expected
since you a
re throwing me off to get married to some fool! Do you not care abo
ut my feelings, Father? I want—
”
I stopped. When I turned and met his eyes, the stormy irises spoke legions. Suddenly the words wouldn
’
t come to me, or I was terrified of the damage they would do.

My father was tall—wise, I guess you could say—
and fierce. But where he was sensible, I was foolish. He was a realist,
and
I was a dreamer. If I thought really hard about it, my father and I had nothing in common besides our will
and
determination. Though, I always took that for a coincidence.

He stood with his back against the green house, his legs crossed at the ank
le
. He was old physically, but his mind was
always developing some new crazy scheme.
“
What right do you have to question me?
”
he asked rhetorically, and I could hear the tinge of anger in his tone.

“
Apologies, Father
.
I just don
’
t know what I can do to make you understand.
I wish you would.
Mother won
’
t listen to me and I just...feel so alone.
”
Tears came to m
y eyes at the truth. Yes, that
’
s what I was—
very much alone.
“
I want to be a Tigress l
ike Shadow and
Ezily.
I want to be free...and—
”

“
That is not your place and I have told you that many times.
”
He pushed off of the wall and
came to sit alongside me on the bench
.
He stretched out his long legs and
his hands
in his lap burned
with age.
“
Our reign must continue, Echo. I have worked too hard to allow another to step in and ruin the nation I
’
ve
taken years to revive.
”
He shook his head.
“
I chose you because I know you can do it, you can lead us.
”

“
Father, but—
”

“
Do
not
interrupt me.
”
His face had turned stone hard.
“
I am sorry that you are unhappy, but sacrifices must be made for the family. I
’
ve made them, your sisters have, and the gods know your Mother is doing all she can.
”

The clip of his tone made me pause. He was obviously laying the gu
ilt trip on thick, but brin
g
ing M
other into his momentary cold-heartedness was unreasonable. I
’
d always gotten along with my Father, so for him to completely shut me out was foreign.

“
I know she has, Father, but you said we
’
d wait until I was
nineteen
, you said you would give me time to think about it.
”

Father shook his head violently and waved me off.
“
No, you were wrong. Life puts you in difficult positions, Echo, but you have to
be bold and live through them
.
After all, that is only the basis of living.
”

“
I—
”

“
Enough, Echo!
”
He wasn
’
t yelling, nor was he whispering.
“
You know better than to argue. Were you not my child you would have been sent away already. I
’
m not tolerating
this
attitude
. W
hat
’
s gotten into you?
”

I sighed inwardly a
nd peered down at the bleeding h
earts—
delicate and beautiful, yet
fated
to a horrible title.

Like myself
, I thought.

“
Nothing. Perhaps I am just tired.
”
That seemed to be my excuse for everything.

My father stood
and reached into his overcoat pocket. His long grey tresses fell into his eyes, and I noticed then how much my Father and I looked nothing alike. Both my parents were born with rich,
golden
hair t
hat many envied and Everlae, Caesar, and
Shadow
’
s were much of the same. Distantly, I wondered why I was so different.

Fear and doubt crowded into my mind, but there wasn
’
t space for both. If I pondered the thought further, I
’
d be facing things I wasn
’
t ready for. I was sure of it.

“
Here,
”
Father said. He handed me an
embellished
pamphlet, white and decadent in every way. My hands shook as I t
ook it in fear of what it was—
what it meant. Without looking at the lettering, I turned it upside down on my lap.
“
Your mother wanted your approval first.
”
He stood for a moment longer than moved to kiss my nose, a gesture that felt colder than his lips on my skin. Suddenly, my father and I had never felt so distant. Suddenly...New Haven didn
’
t feel much like a haven anymore.
“
You will be Q
ueen.
”

And then he was gone.

I sat staring blankly ahead for what could have been hours, lost in a white sea of emptiness. For a
while, the tears wouldn
’
t come—
no matter how much I tried, my fee
t wouldn
’
t move. Would showing F
ather that I could fight work now?
Did it even matter anymore
?
This feeling of being outspoken choked me up. It made me uncomfortable and agitated. My palms itched as my nails dug into them, reaching for a release I couldn
’
t find.

Without a
second thought, I turned over the card and gawked at the gold lettering: the wedding invitation.

You are cordially invited to the joining of Prince Noah of Delentia and Princess Echo of Thediby in holy matrimony, and their crowning titles of king and queen of New Haven.

August 29th

Siphon
’
s City, New Haven

At the King
’
s royal tower

One world! One Haven!

In a fortnight
. My heart had taken on another rhythm then. Every skipped beat was followed by a weakened one. The staccato drum waned in my chest and all the blood rushed to my head. I
’
d never tasted
the kind of anger that burned me inside out then—it was strong and controlling. It blinded me and the heat of the moment was what I went on.

I found myself racing across the yard, through the
palace
, and out the front doors
while
avoiding a glance at anyone. Some called my name, but they were a window of the past. As I stormed out the front door, a guard took me by the hand.
“
Princess, where are you going?
”
he said. Without as much as turning around, I swung at him and knocked him to the ground. He sta
red up at me with wide eyes. A Royal—more less, his P
rincess—would never physically hurt anyone.

As I stared dow
n at the young boy, I realized
tears
stung
my cheeks. I wasn
’
t crying because of the letter or because I was sad, but for myself and because I was burdened with an insatiable anger
I didn
’
t know how to let go
.