“And I pledge my life to yours,” I had answered back, swearing my undying loyalty, though I was so nervous I had thought I might throw up. Even in my immaturity I knew the oath that I had made. I had told him that I wanted to be with him and nobody else. I was his and he was mine.
“Forever?” he’d asked.
“Forever,” I had repeated, my gaze never wavering as it burned into his.
Kaden’s head descended, and in an instant his warm lips swept across mine. My knees had almost buckled, but I managed to keep upright as he pressed his lips against mine.
With a chuckle, he pulled back. “One of these days, Kyle, you’re going to be mine, and if you faint, I’m just going to have to kiss you harder.”
Embarrassed that I had almost passed out during such a mind-altering exchange, I had turned away.
We never spoke of the kiss again. Three days later, he was captured.
“Kyle?” The Emperor’s voice reverberated down the hall, shaking me from my melancholy.
I turned to face the man I had grown to hate, my slippered feet lightly tapping the marble as I approached him.
“Your Highness?” I bowed, crossing my arm over my chest to touch my opposite shoulder.
The man I owed my life to surged through the room. His large belly protruded from his white court dress. Every time I spoke to him, I felt sick to my stomach and prayed I wouldn’t get struck with the whips again. Nobody was allowed to lay a hand on me, but the Emperor had his own idea about the rules given by the Elders.
“Why are you not dressed?”
I looked down, embarrassed that I was still in my silk nightgown, and that he of all people had seen me in such a state of undress. “I was just about to get ready. Did you need something, Highness?”
“Yes.” He whistled, and the servants came running. “Please dress Princess Kyle in her courtwear. She is to meet the Prince of Trilivad today.”
A hushed silence went through the servants. It was the only way they could show displeasure—silence.
“Well?” The Emperor’s eyebrows shot up in impatience.
“Do as he says,” I said in an even voice. They were loyal servants…to me, not the Emperor. “And what is this meeting to be about, Your Highness?”
Challenging him would put me in a dangerous position. One where I could be denied food for days on end, but if I was to be presented to the devil—that of the cruel Eastern Republic—I, at least, wanted to know why.
The Emperor smiled and patted his protruding belly with heavily jeweled fingers. “Oh, my dear, the day is finally here. You are to marry him. This very day, you marry the prince, and thereby set forth into motion the destiny revealed to the Elders. You shall align both Republics of Paleo—the East and the West with your marriage—and finally we will have peace.”
With a gleeful laugh, the Emperor made his hasty exit, only pausing once as he smiled at his own reflection in the mirror. His heavy footsteps pounded the floor. Once the heavy pounding faded, I knew I was safe.
I exhaled a sigh of resignation and glared at the door. Forced into marriage? That was why he saved me at the age of thirteen? He saw me as a profitable trade? I clenched my fists at my sides. The man was impossible!
He didn’t believe himself to be a cruel man. But fear caused people to act rashly, and the Emperor lived in a constant state of fear. It was easy for everyone to see. He was constantly replacing the royal guard, so convinced was he that there were betrayers within his inner circle. He never ate food that hadn’t first been tested by a servant, and at night he made the guards stay awake outside his bedroom, lest someone try to murder him in his sleep. Truly his mind was not his own, and for that, at times I pitied him.
“Kyle?” Madge put a comforting arm around me. “He lives and breathes to be noticed, to be a god among men. I fear one day he may turn on even you, my child. We do not know the ways of the Elders, but perhaps it would be good for you to get away from The West.”
“The East is no better,” I said, my voice emotionless.
I had heard tales of the East. Unending deserts and a hot sun that never relented. The men of the East were rumored to be cruel to their women and uncaring in their marriages. It seemed that no matter where I lived, it would not get better.
If I stayed in the West, I stayed in prison. If I married this prince, I would surely be beaten, for the custom in the East was to beat women into submission, but at least I would leave the memories of Kaden behind. It was torture living with the same people that killed him. I saw the Enforcer that stole his life on a daily basis and hated myself for eating the same food, in the same banquet hall. Perhaps his memory would stay in the West. That I could deal with—the nightmares about him were growing worse, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that I had survived, while Kaden had died.
After all, I had done nothing but shame him with the life I continued to live. I was under the protection of the very people who stole his last breath. And because of that, I wanted to die every day I had a heartbeat when he did not.
I was disappointed and utterly repulsed by the idea that I would be marrying the arrogant prince, also known as the Monster of the East. No doubt he would beat me beyond recognition or have his way with me and make me wish for death every time he came to my bed. I closed my eyes and allowed myself one selfish tear.
But only one.
Kaden always told me that two tears were the sign of weakness, but one tear…one was allowed. I often cried one tear and tried desperately to hide the rest.
“My lady.” Madge curtsied and began the tedious task of dressing me in the elaborate courtwear of The West. We were forced to wear tightly fitted dresses that flowed out at the waist. A cape was attached around our shoulders, with the symbol of the West etched in the fur on the back.
Each of the two remaining countries of the Republic was given court colors. Ours was white. Sadly, all it did was remind me of a wedding dress. One I wouldn’t be wearing with Kaden by my side, but a complete monster.
With a sigh, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Bright blue eyes stared back. Ebony hair trailed down to my waist. Eyelashes “longer than sin,” according to Madge, fanned against my high cheekbones. My frame had always been small. I was often made fun of as a child for being so little, but as I grew, my body filled out.
I often noticed Enforcers staring at me, but never feared for my life or my virtue. To touch me was certain death, and every man within the country knew it.
I was a princess after all. Even though I was only a captured civilian, to them I was the princess and would always be so. The Emperor had decreed me his adopted daughter. The thought of being anything to him, even his servant, made me shudder.
“My lady, if I may say so, the white is very becoming.” Madge pulled at the tightly strung corset. Crystals were sewn into the fabric, making the white look as if it were shining. My dark hair hung in waves around my shoulders. I closed my eyes for the worst part.
The shots always hurt. It was like being stung repeatedly all over my body, but it was the only way to keep the glow.
It had always seemed silly, this glowing business. But every royal had to. We had to literally shine; we needed to look like gods next to the slaves. It made sense, for we never saw the sun. Only the clouds and the rain. It was the only way to tell a royal from a slave, the radiance of one’s skin.
So they injected a glowing serum into our bloodstream. It changed the skin pigment, making us glimmer. My light, as I liked to call it, was a golden hue to match my dark eyes and hair.
I hated it.
Almost as much as I hated being a prisoner.
But if this was the life I had to live so my family could be safe, so one day I could possibly free them all, I would do it.
I closed my eyes as the sting of the shots hit full force. Within seconds it was over with, but the swelling was still felt around my neck.
I stretched and nodded for my cape.
A blue velvet cape was a
ttached to my gown in the back, the blue of the West. It was our symbol, the royal sign that I was of the royal family.
The East wore black and red, always black and red. We said it was because they were of the devil—that Satan himself lived in the East—but I knew better. It wasn’t the devil that lived in the East. No, he lived right here in the castle with me, and his title was Emperor.
In my mind, nothing could be worse than the whippings I received from him. I only hoped the prince would be less inclined to hit me when I accidently spoke out of turn.
“I’m ready,” I said to the servants. Their eyes beheld horror, and I pitied them, for their fear for me was greater than my fear for myself.
When you’ve lost everything dear to you, you no longer fear death. No, you fear life.
Also from Astraea Press
Chapter One
Wanted: Youth Ages 14-18 Must be willing to work outdoors and enjoy camping. Room and board included.
I rocked back on my heels and scanned the job board for any other possibles which might fit my age and desire category. No-ooope. Nothing else. According to this Job Corps office, no other employment possibilities existed on the planet or the state. No one in Utah wanted to hire a seventeen-year-old, soon-to-be senior, just for the summer, with no job skills or experience. I was not about to include my hideous six week stint as a shoe salesman for the local big box discount store as job experience on any application.
My groan brought Conor to my side. He bumped my shoulder with his typical buddy body language. “Any luck?”
I didn’t even turn. “Apparently no one wants to hire kids at the moment. How about you?”
In my peripheral vision, I caught him shaking his head. “Yeah. Especially because I don’t have construction experience. I’m not a lifeguard, and I don’t have a welding license.” Conor motioned to the cards on the board.
“You need a license to weld?” That was news to me.
He shrugged. “According to that…” He jerked his thumb at another nearby wall. “…I would.”
I felt like banging my head against the slotted wall in front of me. “I knew I should’ve signed up for that lifeguard class.” I turned to look at him. “Remind me next time not to listen to my mother. I could’ve squeezed it in.”
“Like you would’ve given up your role in Oklahoma.”
Conor grinned. That dimple, which always made the knees of half the girls at our high school go weak, appeared. I knew it had that effect, because apparently being his best friend, those girls at our school who felt moved by that dimple also felt the need to share their earth-shattering experiences with me. Like telling me would earn points with him? Good grief. Sigh. Of course, that dimple also made him look about three years older than his same-as-me seventeen. Wish my dimple did that. I swear, mine made me look about five years younger.
He was right of course. Nothing would’ve dragged me off the stage last year, and I couldn’t have missed rehearsals to get to the class. So, I did the most mature thing I could think of — I stuck out my tongue.
This made him laugh. His dark curls bounced with his body’s movement. They wouldn’t be around much longer because he hated the bushy look almost as much as I hated mine, and as soon as his curls were long enough that he could feel them move — snick! They’d be gone.
“And so—” I tightened my jaw, “here we stand… thanks to my mom and her brilliant idea that we come to the Job Corps to find a job.” I wrinkled my nose. “Not only do half the people here scare me — and it smells in here — these are real full time jobs not just summer stuff for kids.”
Conor leaned past me, and reached toward the board. “What’s this?” He pulled off the card I’d read earlier. “This sounds promising. Wanted: Ages 14-18. Must be willing to work outdoors and enjoy camping. Room and board included.” He nudged my arm. “We like the outdoors. And we like to camp. Well, you’re more picky than I am. But… you’ve got to admit, it sounds interesting.”
I snatched the card away and pointed out the last sentence. “Room and board included? Conor, that means living some place. It doesn’t even say where, and can you see our parents agreeing to let the two of us go off somewhere where we’d be living all summer? Get real!”
He grabbed my jacket sleeve and dragged me toward a job counselor’s desk. “It can’t hurt to get all the information before giving up.” He made a rude noise with his lips. “It sounds like to me that you don’t even really want to find a job.”
He pushed me into the nearest seat, while I thought about pulling the chair he was about to sink into out from under him. Finally, he was started to get the real idea. Getting a full-time job was not how I really wanted to spend my summer.
“Yeah, well, if you like camping so much you could’ve applied for one of those summer camp jobs your dad kept telling you about. Let’s see, now, what’s that saying your dad keeps on about? Oh yeah, ‘once a Blazer always a Blazer’.”
He clapped the card on the desk, and gave the employment counselor a warm smile, but when he turned toward me, the smile faded while his eyes narrowed. “I’m not suicidal or certifiable. Blazers Boys’ camps are dangerous places, Benz. All those lack of brain cells and all that exploding testosterone? You’d be lucky to ever see me again alive.” His attention moved back to the counselor, his smile reappeared like the sun slipping out from behind a cloud. “So, tell us about this job.”
****
I gripped the phone and punched the last button, still confused why I was making the call. Much to my surprise, instead of my parents digging in their heels with arguments like, “we couldn’t let our darling daughter leave us, we’d miss her too much!” or “are you kidding? There’s bears and snakes out in the woods, you might get hurt.” Their response was more like, “Hmm, working out in the woods would be great for you! Call and check it out.”
Call and check it out. Setting my eyebrows low and glaring out at the world, I waited for the phone to connect. After just a half ring, a voice on the other end answered.
“Norman Schlemmer.” Norman’s slightly nasal tenor voice — not to mention his name — brought to mind a dark-headed, narrow shouldered man, wearing black thick-framed glasses, while sitting hunched at his messy desk.
“Uh, M-Mr. Sch-schlemmer.” I never did do well with calling people. “My name is Mercedes Bennion. I-I’m calling a-about the-uh—” I scanned the printout for the twentieth time since the job counselor gave it to me. “Youth Conservation Corps job that was listed with Job Corps?”
I heard his chair squeak, and I pictured him leaning back on an ancient wooden chair. “Yes, it starts next week and goes for ten weeks. We’re looking for someone willing to commit for that long.”
“I’m available, sir. I don’t have other plans this summer. “Blast it. No friends included me in water ski trips this year, no church rafting planned, no days at the local amusement park. All my usual summer activities seemed to have fizzled now that I was going to be a senior. Like everyone and everything I knew expected me to work! Sigh.
“The teams will be living at Brighton Ski Lodge.”
Ski lodge? I sat up straighter.
“We’ll mostly be working in Big and Little Cottonwood Canyons.”
Images of tall pines, steep granite walls, and the fast moving rivers which rushed through both canyons filled my mind. I loved Little Cottonwood. Dozens of family picnics, church overnights, and even youth group hikes had made me think of that canyon as mine. The idea of living at a ski resort for two and a half months tantalized my mind enough to make it buzz.
“You still interested?”
“Yes, sir.” Unbelievably, I actually was.
“Did they explain about the possible biology credit?”
Biology credit? I sat forward in my seat as my interest rose from 2.0 on the Richter scale to 8.5. I only needed a half more science credit to graduate. It didn’t matter what kind. Did he really mean there might be a chance I wouldn’t have to face more of our spark
ling (not!), fascinating (read: boring), near-retirement science department? I held my breath. Maybe I’d misheard.
“We’ll be giving crews hands-on science opportunities throughout the summer, and we’ve got permission from the State School Board to give anyone who successfully finishes out the season a half-credit of biology, good at any school district in the state.”
“No, sir, they didn’t mention it.” I wanted to punch the air with joy. It was a miracle, that’s what it was. A miracle!
“You’ll need a good pair of hiking boots. Steel toed might be best.”
They make boots with steel toes? Who knew?
“They should be waterproofed. You’ll need a couple of long sleeved blue work shirts — those are our uniforms. Jeans. A warm sleeping bag, some good rain gear.”
Good grief! I should’ve been writing this all down.
He continued with the list a bit longer, then paused. “So, we’ll see you at Skyline High at eight on Monday?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right then. Welcome to the Youth Conservation Corps, Mercedes.”
“Thank you, Mr. Schlemmer.”
The line went dead, and I stared at the list hoping I hadn’t missed or forgotten something. Then it hit me. I’d done it! I had a job.
I shouted for my mom, but not finding her home, I raced outside and jumped on my bike and began pedaling like a demon. Three blocks later, I leaped off my bike taking the time to drop the kickstand, because my dad would kill me if the racing bike I’d whined over for nearly a year was dropped, abandoned, on Conor’s lawn. Of course, when it fell over, I didn’t rush back to fix it.
Two long steps took me to the wall leading to the grass, then three more, and I’d reached the porch. The front door was open, allowing in the warm, early summer air. I gave a quick knock on the screen door, but didn’t wait for anyone to answer.
“It’s me, Mrs. Perry!”