All this time, I thought he had been gracious to me, but in reality, the biggest grace he gave me was keeping me from the jarring truth of his true evil. I couldn’t share my visions with him, not anymore. He could threaten me all he liked, but if there was even the slightest chance that my visions could lead to something as devastating as Sybettal’s destruction... Well, I refused to let my power be used for that.
My fingers gave one final flourish to the clay in my hand, and I finally noticed what I had been crafting. A delicate skeleton key rested in my palms, with an ornate cross-shaped head and uneven prongs at the base. I twisted the sculpture around in my hands and admired the work of my mindless desires.
Maybe I really do want to leave...
My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the servant’s door. The sound perplexed me since it was far too rough to be Mabel’s gentle taps, or even Miron’s firm knuckles. I set down my freshly crafted key and raced across the room to collect my blindfold, but I didn’t make it in time before the meal hatch at the base of the oak door squeaked open.
A stained wooden tray slid sloppily across the ground with a dull clatter and the tray door snapped shut. There had always been a slot for meal trays built into my door, but it was rarely ever used. The only times it had ever been utilized was when Mabel was sick or had taken a personal holiday. A sudden rush of nerves tore through me as I skittered over to the tray.
She hadn’t gotten in trouble because of me, had she?
I leaned down to grab the tray and noticed that the cup of tea had sloshed halfway out of the cup and soaked the crusty bread beside it. The meal consisted only of the bread and a meager slice of cheese. I bit my lip anxiously as I brought the tray over to my dining table. This must be part of the king’s punishment. While I wasn’t prudish enough to turn my nose up at bread and cheese, I did worry this was only going to be the start of thin meals. The king was trying to prove that my well-being was under his control, so it wouldn’t surprise me if the meals stopped for a few days.
My stomach growled nervously at the thought, and I munched on the stiff crust. When I reached for a sip of tea, I noticed the corner of a letter peeping out from beneath the saucer. For a brief moment, I hesitated, but surprisingly, a slight flutter of hopeful anticipation tickled in my chest. Miron and I hadn’t separated on great terms today, but right now he was the closest thing to a friend that I had. Well, an almost-soon-to-die-friend, that is. He may have been careless and caused me to use my powers again, but it seemed to be an accident... Maybe I was too harsh on him?
I slid the letter out from the saucer and instantly recognized the rectangular seal. Gently, I opened the letter and examined the contents with a greedy eye.
Princess Estelle,
I’m sorry if my news today came as a shock to you. I had hoped that sharing the truth of your past would help us establish a stronger sense of trust. It seems clear that you no longer agree with Father’s methods, at least. He is very angry. I would tread carefully if I were you.
I want to help you, but I fear I’ll need your assistance before I can be of any use. I know you’re not keen on sharing your powers at the moment, but I can’t help but wonder if your visions may hold the clue to protecting our kingdom. If you ever feel open to sharing, please know I will always listen.
Your Prince
Really!? After everything that happened today, he still thinks he can sneak in a request for my powers? I tossed the note aside and stuffed another bite of chewy bread into my mouth. He had clearly seen how upset my last vision made me. Why did he want to know what it was so badly? I huffed as I gulped down the last swallow of cheese, then washed it down with some lukewarm tea. Once my stomach had been filled, I felt a little less irritable toward the whole situation.
I suppose he was looking out for his kingdom, but it still felt a little rude that he kept finding new ways to sneak in the request. The answer had been no, but I guess his curiosity resurfaced when I had such a violent reaction to his future. I can understand why he wants to know, but if I told him... I couldn’t tell him. How could I? He deserved to live blissfully unaware of his impending demise. I couldn’t possibly tell him he was going to lose to his brother, or that he was going to attack me first...
A shudder snaked down my spine, and I crossed the room back toward my art supplies and continued working on my sculpted key. The gentle molding helped relax my senses and narrow my focus on a less begrudging mindset.What would happen if I told him?Would he be angry? Grateful? Remorseful? Would his anger create the spark to play out my first vision?
It was impossible to guess, and was likely to never happen, anyway. He had shown me the truth about my past I never knew was missing. How could I tell him such a terrible future after he granted me such kindness? It would be cruel.
But was it crueler to let him aid me while I hid an equally devastating truth?
It was hard to say...
I pressed my thumb pads into the soft clay and smoothed out the ridges into a clean line. I lifted the completed key and admired it silently for a brief moment, turning it to inspect for any flaws.
If only making a key was this simple...
If I could leave the tower, I would be free of the king’s villainous schemes. I wasn’t sure which was scarier, though—braving the world by myself, or staying to endure the king’s wrath. The world had been equally vicious and unforgiving, but if I was free of the king’s grasp, then the only person who would be getting hurt was me since my power couldn’t endanger others. As much as I hated the idea of leaving the only comforts I’d ever known, I simply couldn’t remain here. Given time, the king would find a way to break me, and with a war on the line, I couldn’t be certain what kind of damage my visions might cause.
I stared at the crafted key with a broken gaze. I had to leave, for my sake and for the sake of the Realm. It was too dangerous for me to stay here. There were so many people I could hurt and never even know...
I wonder how many I’ve hurt already?
I turned my gaze toward the king’s door and wondered about the extra rooms Miron had mentioned.Were there other prisoners like me?If I could find it in my heart to trust Miron, then I could easily request that he lead me out of the castle through the servant’s passage. But if there were others, could I really leave them behind? What if they had been deceived, too? Or worse, what if they knew of the king’s wickedness and had been forced to serve him, anyway?
My chest tightened as I stared at the ornate lock on the king’s door and wondered if there was a way I could help Miron break it open. My fingers twitched around the handle of the freshly sculpted key I had made, and an obscure idea passed through my mind.
What if I could make a key... a real key?
A rush of intrigue swept over me as I crossed the room to the king’s door. I turned the clay key around in my hand and positioned the prongs above the lock. With delicate precision, I slid the mold into the opening, allowing clumps of clay to gather around the lock’s ornate front. My handle was far wider than the lock, so only a small sliver of clay actually made it into the opening. I pulled the key back out as slowly as I could so I wouldn’t tear the clay. Once it was fully removed, I inspected the damaged mold with a close eye.
The majority of the beautiful sculpture was ruined now, but there was something even more awe-striking at the end of the smashed prongs. The clay may not have retained its shape, but it did mold into a new one. By placing the soft material into the lock, I had successfully created a perfect mold of the true key.
With a sly smile stretching across my face, I carefully moved the forged key onto a concealed shelf in my cabinet. For a moment, I was ready to jump for joy at my clever accomplishment, but then I realized the clay would never set hard enough to maintain the tension of a lock without snapping.