Chapter 3 Her Own Twisted Fate

Chapter Three: Her Own Twisted Fate

This obsidian egg felt like a pulse of pure heat against Neria’s palms. It was far heavier than anything that size had a right to be, and the surface was full of vibration that traveled straight up her arms and settled in her teeth. 

The crying from inside had stopped the moment her skin made contact with the shell and immediately got replaced by a low, thrumming that felt suspiciously like a heartbeat.

‘This isn't happening,’ Jess thought, her eyes darted toward the open dungeon door. ‘I am in a basement. I am hallucinating because I haven't had a proper meal since the twenty-first century. Any second now, a nurse is going to wake me up.’

But this damp cold of the stone walls was too real, and the sting on her jaw from Valerius’s blow was a throbbing reminder that this body was very much alive and in a lot of pain.

A metallic clang came from the corridor above. Footsteps, well focused and terrifyingly slow, began to descend the stone stairs.

"Check the lower vaults," a voice commanded. It was deep, authoritative, and sent a jolt of pure electricity through Jess’s spine. "If Lady Virethorn thinks she can hide in the shadows of my home, she is mistaken."

Jessica’s heart did a frantic somersault. 

Sebastian? The Prince? The man who was destined to end her life in a few chapters if she didn't figure out a way to change the script. She looked at the egg, then at the door, then back at the egg.

"I can't be here," the mutter announced to the empty room. "If he finds me in the dragon vault, he won't just execute me. He’ll probably feed me to the rest of the royal menagerie."

She tried to set the egg back down onto its bed of straw, but as Jessica pulled her hands away, a strange thing happened….The violet glow intensified, and a static charge snapped between her fingers and the shell. It felt like a magnetic pull. 

Every time she tried to let go, her hands seemed to stick, the heat growing until it was almost blistering.

"Let go, you stupid rock!" she hissed, tugging at her own arms.

The unlucky lady moved too quickly, her feet tangled in the long, unnecessary layers of her silk skirts. With a quick gasp, Jessica lost her balance and tumbled backward, the weight of the egg pulled her down. 

Instead of falling onto the stone, she landed squarely in a large, discarded leather satchel that looked like it was used for transporting scrolls or stones.

The egg tucked itself perfectly into the bag, and Jessica, in a panic of flailing limbs and lace, accidentally looped the thick leather strap over her shoulder as she scrambled to find her footing.

The footsteps were closer now and she could see the torchlight dancing on the wall just outside the door.

"Survival," Jess hushed in a shaky voice. "Goal one: stay alive. Goal two: don't get caught with the king’s breakfast."

She realised she couldn't leave the egg now. If Jess left it, her fingerprints or whatever magical signature this world used-it would be all over it. She was already the 'clumsy villainess.' Being a 'clumsy thief' was just the natural progression of her terrible luck.

Turning around, there was a small, narrow ventilation shaft near the ceiling, barely large enough for a person of her thin stature to crawl through. It was covered by a rusted iron grate.

"Please be weak," there was a prayer, grabbing the bars.

To her shock, the metal came away from the wall with a soft groan of decay. The foundations of this part of the palace were clearly as neglected as her own life had been. 

With the bag thumping against her ribs, Jessica hoisted herself up. Every muscle in her body was forced into a workout. Her silk sleeves tore with a rip, and the rough stone scratched her pale skin, but she didn't stop.

Jessica squeezed into the narrow, dusty tunnel just as the door to the vault fully opened.

From her vantage point in the shadows of the shaft, she looked down. 

“Oh, shit…”

Sebastian Blackmoor stepped into the room. He had removed his dragon mask, revealing a face that was even more terrifyingly handsome than the book had described. He looked like an angel who had been kicked out of heaven for being too cold.

He stopped in the center of the room, his eyes immediately fell on the empty nest of straw.

The silence that followed was more frightening than any scream. Sebastian didn't yell or curse. 

But simply reached out and touched the spot where the egg had been, his gloved fingers lingering on the heat that Jessica had left behind.

"Who was here?" Sebastian asked, yet his tone had the pressure of a death sentence.

A guard scrambled into the room, his face looked pale. "Your Highness? We followed the Lady Neria toward the kitchens, but-"

"Neria Virethorn didn’t go to the kitchens," Sebastian interrupted, turning around slowly. His eyes scanned the room, stopping for a fraction of a second on the loose grate in the wall.

Neria held her breath. She didn't move, and even blink. A bead of sweat rolled down her nose and hung there, threatening to drop and betray her.

"Find her," Sebastian ordered. "Seal the gates. If she has what I think she has, she isn't just a nuisance anymore. She is a traitor. Bring her to me alive. I want to hear her excuses before I cut out her tongue."

The guards bolted from the room. Sebastian stayed for a moment longer, staring at the empty vault. He looked almost... confused. Dragons didn't just bond with anyone. 

They certainly didn't let themselves be carried away by a girl who couldn't walk in a straight line without tripping.

As soon as he left, Jessica exhaled, a long, shuddering breath that rattled her bones.

"Okay," her forehead rested against the cool dust of the tunnel. "New plan. I can't go back to my home. I can't go to the ballroom. I have to get out of the palace."

She began to crawl, but the stupir heavy egg thumped against her side like a ticking bomb. She remembered the maps from the novel. If she could reach the servants' passage near the laundry, Jessica could slip out into the lower city.

‘Think, Jessica. You know how this story ends. Sebastian dies. Alistair wins. The kingdom burns. If I have this egg, I have a bargaining chip. I’m not just a side character anymore. I’m the one holding the most dangerous thing in the world.’

The thought was terrifying, but it was the first time in two lives that she felt like she had a choice. Jessica wasn't going to be a punching bag for Valerius. She wasn't going to be a victim of a car crash or a Prince’s sword.

"I'm going to rewrite this," her voice regained a tiny bit of strength. "I'm going to manipulate that scary prince. I'm going to expose his brother. And I am going to find a place where nobody can hit me ever again."

There was a pause, but then, biting the lower lip, the girl decided to say something out loud. 

“My name is Neria Virethorn, and I…I am going to live.”