Freedom comes at a price and a young Earthal princess must live the life of somebody else, even if it means facing evil threats and impossible odds.
***
As someone who craves freedom, Princess Clarabelle cannot just stand by and let her life be take...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CLARA KNEW the sun had gone behind the clouds. She could look up and see it for herself, but she couldn't. And for some reason, she had to squint her eyes to see through the thick cloud of smoke that covered the lawn. The green grass had mixed with the billows of smoke, turning it into a shade of gray. A hollow ringing noise filled up her ears, and her knees began to tremble.
Right after she fired that shot of moon magic, a loud ringing of an explosion resonated. A beastly tremor had knocked them off their feet. The crystal meter crumbled into nothing, not a sliver of sign it had been there.
The silence screamed through every crevice it could find, freezing the breath they held in an attempt to digest the scene which unfolded. No one dared to ask a question. All they could ever do at the moment was to gape and purely wonder.
Her fingers recovered and found their senses. It twitched and clutched tightly the damp grass below, collecting earth under her nails. Then her whole arms found their bearings. The numbness left Clara's body bit by bit. And slowly, she sucked in all the air she could to fill her lungs with smoke.
A rush of cold traveled Clara's skin from the sweaty palm encircling her wrist. And it even made her more aware of the sturdy figure against her back, wrapping her protectively inside his arms.
She turned her head to look at the wide-eyed prince. A cold sweat trickled from his hairline down to the tail of his eyebrow until it reached his chin. He was ghostly pale and she forgot to count the times he swallowed.
As if sensing her eyes on him, Emir looked down sluggishly. His reaction still looked shocked, but this time, another emotion swam across his face. With lips parted and a crease drawn between his eyebrows, Clara knew he pleads for an answer, but he just didn't know how to ask. His deep dark eyes were stormy and she could feel the heat coming off them.
"Anneliese," he whispered that even in the deafening silence, not anyone but them would be able to hear. She thought there was a magnet, a secret pull, that brought them closer to each other. But not until someone had to interrupt them.
"Your Highness." The thin string connecting their eyes was snapped off by a hoarse bass-like voice. Professor Rhyb stood on one knee. His restless eyes and shallow breathing didn't go unnoticed. "Let's... Let's talk at my office. Now," he brooded, eyes stern on Emir.
Clara could feel the prince's grip tighten around her arms as he nodded in agreement. He gingerly pulled Clara up and waited as the professor instructed the staff to guide the students back to the foyer for further instructions.
"Professor Ken—" Professor Rhyb was about to call for the new sage but stopped when he realized he was nowhere to be found.
"Professor Rhyb," Emir called out in a strained voice. "Perhaps, we have to take this matter immediately. In your office, shall we now?"
In one stiff nod, Professor Rhyb led the way, and Emir and Clara followed, together with the unusually distant Maxwell. When she looked back at him, Maxwell simply acknowledged her with a nod and never looked at her again. She never thought that pebbles were a catch until Max exhibited an interest in them.
