Eight Years Later

    My hair used to be my most favorite thing in the world, but now I despise it. I wake up every morning with sweat in my hair, and it becomes wavy and damp. It's long and it sheds all around the house. My mother always hassles me about it. It's not like I'm some wizard who can stop hair from falling out.

I get out of bed and enter the kitchen. Of course, my mother is not there. Two years ago, she decided to start training again and taking up jobs around nearby villages. I respect her for that, but most days I feel lonely. There is nothing to do is this poor village, except farming and hunting.

My mother says that I cannot train with her because she fears for my safety. She's practically calling me weak. I know that if she gives me a chance, I can show her how useful I am. I feel so useless. Waking up is a disappointment. Sometimes I wish I could fade the way my dreams do when my eyes open. I wish I could become apart of my dreams.

"Make way for the king and queen of Trador!" I hear a man shout.

The king and queen? They have never made an appearance here. This village is poor and there is nothing for them here. It's like a cat entering a rat's home. They must be here for gold. Hungry to take our lives. Royal families only care about gold and appearances.

I step outside and make sure to stay hidden. My mother doesn't want anyone outside of the village seeing me. She makes me feel like an outcast. Hopefully one day I'll understand all she does for me.

When I look up I see the king and queen of Trador. The king looks nothing like I imagined. His hair is white, just like mine and his face is quite round and full. He's bulky and has the eyes of a lizard. His pupils are so black that I almost mistake them for black holes. The king is nowhere close to being appealing, but his wife . . . the queen . . . she's easy on the eyes. Her eyes are like icicles ready to pierce skin. Her down turned lips are bright pink and it matches her bright cheeks. Her body is svelte, completely opposite of the king's build.

Immediately, her eyes land on mine and a smile grows on her lips so fast, it almost seems like it was always there. I knit my brows in mild worry and I step back a bit until I'm hidden on my porch. She looks away and her smile deflates into a flat line.

"Evening to you all," the queen's voice carries like the wind on a stormy night. "I am looking for Gennet Silver. The king and I have important matters to discuss with her." She looks around and the king just sits in the carriage. He gives off the impression that he is disgustingly lazy. He's gluttony and sloth in one.

"Your grace, is that how they say it?" A villager says softly.

"It is. Do you know where I can find her?" Her eyes show that she is impatient. The icicles are shaking and soon they will fall.

"Over there," the villager points. "She lives in that home. She should be out hunting. Her child lives there. She is evil, your grace. Take her, please take that thing . . . away from us!" All of the villagers start shouting words of hate. They all want me dead. Years have past and they still cannot see that I mean no harm.

I run into my home and lock the door shut. My heart is beating so fast, it feels like it'll burst out of my chest. I clench onto my brown dress and look around the house, hoping to find somewhere to hide. I hear footsteps outside of my door and I quickly run towards my room. Hiding under the bed is my best bet. It's a terrible hiding place, but I have nowhere else to run to. The sound of the door being knocked open sends chills down my shoulder.

"Girl!" A manly voice shouts. I cover my mouth to hide my gasp and I begin to crawl under my bed. I lay flat on my back and try to decrease my breathing.

Footsteps begin to sound in my bedroom and my eyes close on their own. The veins on my head begin to pulsate and it feels like air is trapped in my hearts. I can't die. I look to my right and see sabatons. He turns and begins to walk out of the room, but another enters. Their footstep is softer.

"Look under there," the queen's voice is softer this time.

Her guard looks under the bed and I scream. I try to get out through the other side, but the guard grabs me by the leg. He pulls me out and I struggle to get out of his grasp. Another guard grabs me up and they hold me in front of the queen.

"Stop making such annoying sounds," she forms a scowl.

"What do you want?" I look her up and down with my gold eyes.

"Poor child, did your mother not tell you?" Her gray eyebrows raise.

"Tell me what?" I begin to calm down a bit; waiting for an answer.

"You're coming with me. You are to marry one of my sons. You'll be the queen of Trador!"

"Me," I laugh, "a queen?"

"Yes. You're more beautiful than I imagined. She begins to circle around me. I swallow and try not to panic.

"Move!" My mother yells. She runs into the room and her eyes look puffy; like she's been crying.

"Mom!" I shout, trying to run to her, but the guards tighten their grasp on my arms.

Her body flinches towards me, but she stops. She looks at the queen and forms a fist.

"Don't hurt her. Our deal was to talk to me first. You come into my home and terrify her! How is she suppose to trust you?" My mother's voice sounds throaty.

"Gennet, so happy to see you again," the queen shows a sinister smile. "I do things my way. She's leaving here today. You have two choices. One," she holds up a finger, "leave her here and never see her again. Or two," another finger goes up, "come with us this once and meet her soon to be husband. Stay in our kingdom for a day and after that, take your leave. If all goes well, maybe you'll be able to visit her sometimes."

My mother looks to the floor and squeezes her hands tight. She looks like she's making the hardest decision of her life, but she's forgetting one thing, she sold me off like a slave! I have no desire to marry into this worthless kingdom. I feel betrayed.

"I have no say in this . . . do I?" My voice cracks as my eyes land on my mother.

"Not at all child. If you refuse to come, this village will fall."

"Damn this village to hell!" I scream. "They don't care about me. Why should I give my life for their life?" I shake my head.

"I didn't do this for the village, I did it for you," my mother looks up at me and tears fill her eyes. She looks angry and sad at the same time. It burns my heart. "This life, it isn't for you. I want you to grow up somewhere bigger than this. Become someone better."

"I am better . . . with you! Please mother! Don't let them take me away."

"I'm sorry," she averts her attention from my eyes. "I'll go Queen Mara. I'll meet her husband."

"Very well. Guards, take the child to the carriage."

I do not even struggle. I am lost for words. When I pass my mother I whisper, "You are heartless." I can hear the soft cry in her throat. I bite my lip and pray for this to all be over.

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