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Word Count: 2163

~Kiva

The dining room opens up around as I approach where my father sits, enjoying his breakfast.

A shaft of sunlight cast through the towering dining room windows gives my father a deceptively ethereal glow.

He looks innocent. He couldn't be further from that.

His eyes lift as I wander in. "Good morning. Feel better?"

I school my expression into a smile, remembering the story. I was kidnapped, and now I am home and terrified the rebellion is going to come for me.

"I feel...fine," I exclaim stiffly, sliding into my chair.

Father's gaze feels heavy as I carefully select my breakfast. A piece of toast I'm going to smother in spread, accompanied by some fruit.

It's what I would choose if I weren't hiding something. It's what I would choose if I weren't moments away from throwing up on the polished floor.

"You have been through a few hard weeks, haven't you dear?"

I ignore the bite of pain in my stomach. His sincere tone doesn't help the situation. I must fixate on Ark, his sister and all the other victims.

"Yeah. Definitely," I mumble, biting into my toast, fighting my nausea.

"Are you feeling up to talking to me about it today?" He says it like I have a choice. He will continuously push the issue until I eventually cave, regardless of any emotional effect it may have on me.

I give a little shrug. "They kept me in a dark room the entire time. They didn't even question me."

"Hmm. That's strange."

"Very strange. They told me I wasn't involved." I watch his expression.

He frowns, slowly chewing his cereal. I wait for the guilt, or even a flicker of recognition. He must know what this is about...he must know this goes deeper than a hatred for royals.

If he does, he's not going to let me know that.

"You're a Princess. If they are so against the royals, then I would have expected them to target you," he muses.

I narrow my eyes. Is he truly clueless, or is he just an excellent actor? I've never been very in tune with my fathers emotions as he hasn't consulted me on much beyond my duties as Princess.

"What if that's not what it is about?"

His spoon pauses halfway to his mouth, milk dripping down and splattering on his place setting. My breath hitches as he slowly lowers it back to his bowl.

Have I revealed too much?

"Do you know something?" He asks softly.

"No...like I said, they didn't tell me anything," I say quickly. Too quickly. "One day I saw an opportunity to escape and I got out."

His shoulder slump forward a little and his mouth softens in a smile.

"I'm proud of you for escaping. Your training came to use, didn't it?" He points his spoon at me, laughing at what he figures is his own triumphant.

I straighten. "Yes, although my trainer is part of the rebellion."

"Well, I will find him and he will be punished, I assure you."

He says it so confidently I almost laugh. I had to tell father that Ark is part of the rebellion because I wrongly assumed Caspian would have told him already. I'm sure he already knew, since I went missing at the same time I did, but I could have claimed Ark was killed trying to protect me.

But the story doesn't matter anymore. Ark doesn't fear my father. He will never catch him.

"Father, do you know about a girl named Ella?" I ask tentatively.

"The name doesn't ring any bells. Why, are they a servant?" Of course he doesn't know. He must have had hundreds of victims pass through his clutches.

"No. I just wondered if you had heard that name before," I merely say, trying not to scrunch my toast up into an angered fist.

He leans back in his chair, the sun illuminating his eyes. He taps his chin, making an obvious attempt to recall a memory regarding an Ella for my sake.

"I suppose I have, somewhere. But as a King I hear so many names I can't possibly remember every face they attach to."

I nearly roll my eyes. Spoken like a King, that's for sure.

"Yeah. I guess." I take another reluctant bite from my toast.

"I know it isn't good timing sweetheart, but I need to leave for a few days," he imparts, pushing his nearly empty bowl away from himself.

My eyes widen. No.

"What?"

He smooths his hands along the tablecloth. "I don't want to have to leave you after what you've been through, but there is important business that must be tended to. Once I'm back I won't be going away for a while."

My mouth dries. Is he shutting the business down? Does he know he's being chased down by the rebellion and he is trying to cover his tracks?

"Can I come with you?" I can't let him escape now.

He waves his hand dismissively. "You need to stay here and rest. You will be very bored."

Obviously he's not going to let me attend, but I want to push him. Maybe he will divulge his ugly secret in hopes of garnering my support when this all inevitably blows open.

Or maybe he wants to implicate me. So I can't flee.

"I want to come. Now that I'm home, I want to be more involved in royal duties." My tone is far louder and more insistent than I would like, but I can't help it.

"No need. We will find you a husband soon and you will not have to worry about any duties other than being a good wife."

My blood chills. All rational thoughts vacate my mind

"Seriously?" I splutter.

How could I have ever been so foolish? This isn't unfamiliar rhetoric spewed out by my father, and yet previously I just sat, soaking it up without a word uttered in protest.

Had I not had my life threatened, forcing me to re-examine my life, I may have never deviated from a path carved out for me by my father.

"I know you don't like hearing that, but you're a woman now, Kiva. It's time you start understanding what you were born to do." He smooths both hands through his hair, revealing his widowed peaks and ageing skin.

"What if I want to rule here, once you're no longer King?"

I know the conversation is moot considering what I have planned, but I want to hear him choke out some useless excuse. It will make this all a lot easier.

He sighs, troubled by my questioning. "You remember your cousin, Joseph, right?"

"Yes..." Unfortunately. He's insufferable at best and couldn't run a Territory if his life depended on it. That would require looking away from a mirror for more than five minutes...

"His father and I agreed that he will take over in this Territory, as his brother will be taking over in their home one," he explains.

I grit my teeth, my jaw protesting. "That's not fair."

"Alliances are integral to the success of my reign. Don't underestimate the importance of your sacrifice, dear."

So he admits it's a sacrifice.

My eyes drift to the knife propped in the butter. It's blunt, but what does that matter? I could shove it into my father's eye and watch him bleed out over the pretty ivory tablecloth.

I blink the graphic vision from my mind. No, that's not fair. My father's fate is in my mate's hands.

"I'll forgive you if you let me come on this business trip with you," I say, choosing the plan over murdering my own father.

He rubs his fingers over his scruffy facial hair. "Why do you so ardently want to come with me on this trip? You've never shown interest before."

I frantically scrape my mind for a plausible excuse. "I'm frightened of being home alone, after everything."

"I've tripled my number of guards. No harm will befall you," he assures me. At least he is satisfied with my excuse.

There isn't much more I can say. He has decided to leave alone, which means Ark and I will have to track him on our own.

"Fine..." I concede. "Can you at least tell me where you're going?"

His smile is soft, although it doesn't reach his eyes. "Not far from here. Don't worry."

I spend the rest of the day glued to my bedroom window, staring out at the driveway. Staff shovel snow from the driveway's frosty surface in preparation for father's departure, which feels as though it's never coming.

Dusk settles by late afternoon, casting deep shadows across the front entranceway.

I'm almost asleep, head resting against the windowsill until light flickers from outside, horse hooves clattering against asphalt.

Rubbing at the misty condensation, I peer out at father's trusty transport being led up to the front door. Bags are immediately stuffed into the trunk at the back of the cabin, signalling that my father will soon be leaving.

A rampant thought suddenly unravels in my mind.

Ark would kill me...but what if this is my only chance?

Chasing my sudden burst of confidence I shove some shoes on and grab a coat, heading off downstairs.

The guards don't make a move to stop me as I head out the backdoor, manoeuvring around the house to the front.

Father isn't in the carriage yet. Two servants stand talking, their backs to me.

Snow crunches underfoot as I slowly pick my way toward the back of the carriage and to the now closed trunk. Flicking the cold iron latch, I pull up the lid.

There's just enough room for me to nestle my way amongst the bags, closing the lid on top of me.

I'm going with my father, whether he wants me to or not. And he will reveal the location of his business.

Everything is still and dark for a time, and then voices appear, muffled by the trunk casing. Eventually the carriage rocks as my father clambers in, and then we set off.

Thankfully I'm protected from the worst of the cold, my breath quickly filling the cramped space with warmth. Periodically I open the lid for a breath, but only barely. Guards follow behind on horseback, their torches lighting the area.

Soon enough, my heart rate settles, and with the rhythmic lull of the carriage rocking and the darkness shrouding me, I fall asleep.

For how long is lost on me.

At some point the carriage jolts to a stop. Confusion muddles my brain as I lift my head, smacking it atop the solid top of the trunk. I panic for only a moment before I realise where I am.

All of a sudden, the latch flicks and the trunk lid is lifted.

Watery light stains my vision, blinding me momentarily.

"Princess?" a panicked voice utters.

Blinking away the blindness, I sit up, my limbs aching from my cramped position.

One of my father's personal servants looks at me, his eyes wide. He's the only one around from what I can tell upon a brief inspection.

"Shh, it's okay," I hush him, clambering as quickly as possible. My feet hit dirt, my legs trembling as circulation returns to them.

"What-"

I cut him off, grabbing him and slamming his head against the carriage door. He slumps, crumbling to the ground. I wince, quickly grabbing him, dragging him around the other side.

Guilt blooms but I ignore it. If he reveals I am here, everything will be ruined. Plus, he will wake from this.

Straightening, I brush off my hands before turning around to survey the area.

Horror...dread...something else similar consumes me.

I'm at the lake house. Except, it's not actually the lake house, but the area near it. I'm staring out at the lake, and across it I can see the very home I spent so much of my childhood...the memories, my mother...

I clutch my stomach, turning around.

An unassuming manor shrouded by trees sits there, harbouring all sorts of horrors. This is father's business, I can tell.

The house is large, albeit decaying and ancient. The ground around it is worn down from many visitors, and the stillness in the air feels manufactured.

There are people inside. Innocent people that need to be liberated.

I look back at the lake house. Father took us there so often and I felt lucky for it. Did he do it just so he could easily access his business across the lake?

My whole life was a sham...

And now I'm going to get my revenge.

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I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! and as always it is available 10 chapters ahead on Radish!

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~Midika 💜🐼