Chapter 3 The Weight Of Being A Firstborn
She had stood in front of her sister's door, tears brimming in her eyes, her teeth gnawing on her inner cheeks, when she felt a familiar warm hand cup her face.
"Males aren't all that sister," Kaelyth said softly.
"Easy for you to say."
"I wish. Wipe your tears."
She watched as Serenya dabbed her face with a cloth, and despite everything, a small involuntary smile tugged at her lips.
"When was the last time we were siblings?" Serenya whispered.
Kaelyth paused.
"About ten years ago."
Right.
The moment Caelira turned ninety, and became a terrible brat.
Kaelyth was the first child of the family. She was clocking two hundred and ten in a few months. She remembered how she would care for all of them, while their father was at the war front and their mother, wallowing away with the males in her court.
Serenya and Daryon were twins and the second. They were two hundred years old and saw Kaelyth as their mother, since birth.
But things were different now.
Caelira the youngest, adored, untouchable had slowly turned the household into something unrecognizable. Jealous and calculated.
She hated the attention her siblings got. Especially Kaelyth. She felt she was better than everyone else.
Prettier. Smarter.
She poisoned everyone's mind against each other, especially their mother's against Kaelyth.
She became the golden child of the family. Loved by everyone and hated by her siblings and workers.
"Keep walking Seren. I'm right behind you," Kaelyth said.
As she bent to adjust the strap of her sandal, a large hand gripped her waist and mouth and soon, darkness.
He couldn't help but stare at the green-eyed beauty in front of him.
She slept so soundly, her chocolate-cherry lips parting slowly each time she let out a breath.
Her lashes that rested on her cheekbone, fluttering ever so slightly.
How could anyone hate such a gentle beauty?
Jealousy.
Her brother. Her sister. Not sisters.
Serenya didn't know where she stood in her parent's favour.
Daryon was jealous because he knew he could never fight like his elder sister. The males were stronger in every kingdom, fought every war. They were vicious.
But he was weak. Everyone knew his sister's name. Not his. Some even rumored she would take over the throne.
And his ego was hurt.
Caelira hated her sister for all the right and wrong reasons.
She was prettier, curvier, stronger, smarter, colder. More feared than everyone, including their parents.
She and the other two were just pawns in their parents' game.
Once upon a time Kaelyth was a pawn too. But she stood against them.
She was everything they wished to be.
Brave. Powerful. Smart.
While she was being flaunted to the other kingdoms during balls, charity events and dinners, her sister was off, beheading someone.
Staring at her, he realized why they hated her.
She was the first child they had. The first child who was once a tool in their hands to wield.
She broke free, and then they had another. They refused to make the same mistake they made with the first.
They dangled their freedom over their heads on a thin thread, threatening to snap it at any moment.
They held even the smallest of details over them, in exchange for a mirage of freedom.
They hated that their sister was not under the control of their parents. Hated that she could walk away whenever she chose. Say no, whenever.
She was free.
But if only they knew.
It was warm, the air around her. Soft like a feather brushing against her skin.
It was not her room. She could tell by the smell of forest rain, sandalwood and something akin to burning sage.
The sheets were rough, but brought a great sense of comfort.
She snuggled deeper into the mass of flesh and muscle.
Her eyelids briefly cracked open, taking in the sight of a white skin and stormy eyes, before shutting and sending her into a world of bliss.
The next time her eyes opened, she stretched and yawned, staring at the blackness above her. Her mind was slower than her body, as she stared at Zytherion pacing around the room, humming to himself.
Her eyes still heavy with sleep and limbs heavy with numbness, forced her to succumb to another round of bliss.
"What am I doing here?!"
She was fully awake now. Her eyes wandered around the room in surprise.
"You were being setup by your sister. So I rescued you and brought you here. Though I admit, it was a beautiful sight, watching you sleep."
She let her mind briefly wander to the last time she had slept so soundly. It had been years, dare she say ten.
"So you brought me here to take advantage of me?"
"Why would I?"
His face was now serious, every hint of playfulness gone. But her brain couldn't catch up with her mouth.
"Because I'm a princess, and you can never have me. You're too beneath me to get to me."
Bad Kaelyth.
She watched as his eyes narrowed, jaws worked the tension, and for a moment, she swore she saw pain cross his features.
She bit her tongue and cast her eyes away, finding the threadbare carpet more interesting.
Folding her arms across her chest as her eyes slowly accessed him, she noticed some details she hadn't seen before. He was big. Very big, and tall too.
He had freckles on his cheekbones, his nose, and one above his eyebrow.
"I explained to your father. He said to tell you to meet with him once you wake up."
Her eyes slightly widened and her mouth hung loose.
"What did you say?"
"Told him Caelira tried framing you. He confirmed it. That's all."
'That's all', he said nothing that would get her into trouble. He was trying to help. But she was accusing him. Falsely, if she may add.
He didn't need to say it out loud. It was there, on his face, in his eyes, his rigid posture.
"S-sorry. I...I just didn't want any problems with..."
His eyes softened as he nodded slightly.
She was the first royal to ever apologize to another who wasn't a royal, or a noble.
He was the first being she had ever apologized to. Ever.
"Your sister dropped off some clothes for you."
"How many people know I'm here?"
"Just your father and your sister. I made sure of that."
"How?"
"Do not worry about such trivial matters, My Princess."
"I'm sorry."
"I understand."
She quietly got up from the bed and stepped into the small bathroom, still holding the sheets up to her chest.
"Zytherion?"
He groaned quietly at how his name rolled softly off her tongue. Gods, the things he'd do to her in his bed. The sounds she'd make.
"Yes?"
"We aren't in the palace, are we?"
"No. My house."
"The place where you live with your sister?"
Her eyes widened at how the word 'sister' sounded so venomous.
He chuckled and replied; "No Princess. I live alone. She stays in the palace."
"Why?" She asked with a frown as the shower began spraying warm water on her.
"Because she doesn't have the money for it."
"And you, how did you get yours?"
"Fights."
"Fights?"
"Yes Princess. I fight other soldiers. When I win, I get all the bet's money."
"How long have you been doing this?"
"Since I got here."
"And how long have you been here?"
"About a while now."
She froze, brows furrowed.
" How old are you?"
"Two-fifty."
"You're....old." She blurted.
"Thank you Princess," he chuckled.
She took her time while showering.
"You know Zytherion... I'm not used to showers. All my life I've had baths."
"I could bathe you if you desire."
"That's not my point! What I'm saying is, it feels nice. To try out new things, that is."
"Hm. It is."
She had used his oils on her body. Sage and sandalwood. She then changed into her new clothes, as she watched his back that was turned to her. She smelled like him, and that brought a new level of comfort she hadn't felt before.
She felt at home.
"Done," she whispered and he turned around. She took her lip between her teeth, as his eyes trailed her body. It wasn't like how the others looked at her.
Appreciation. Admiration. Like she was the only one.
"Where have you been all along?" She asked softly.
"Right here," he murmured.
"Why were you cast out of your land?"
Her eyes widened a fraction as his jaws clenched, his features hardened and he began walking away, muttering something along the lines of "It's a story for another day".
Now, she really wanted to know what happened to him.
