HEIR | The Cursed Monarchy | Book 1

Treachery: Part III, Chapter 17

Through the narrow slits of her eyes, Cecily watched Daire leave the main corridor, and into her heart there crept rage. She tried to breathe again, overcome with countless conflicting emotions. She had allowed herself to love and now with the same passion that she had loved, she felt betrayed by Daire; betrayed to learn that he had called her his "queen" and then used her. They had made love several times; he'd been insatiable – as, she admitted without any doubt, had she.

Something was desperately wrong here, Cecily could feel that instinctively. She had no idea what Daire's connection to Rilien might be, and how the elf had any knowledge of her mother's death, but for her own sake, she would have to find out. She did, however, know one thing: Rilien could not force her to abandon her hope. Somehow, she would uncover the truth.

Would she forgive Daire, though? She couldn't help but wonder that now. As much as she might try, could she? Would there not always be suspicion in her mind? It would only set her up for more heartache. Perhaps Rilien had done her a favor, revealing his take on things. Daire couldn't use her anymore.

Without warning her mind betrayed her. Shutting her eyes tight, Cecily quickly jerked her body around and slammed her back against the door. A coral-colored energy pooled in her palms and she clenched her hands into tight fists. The anger she felt fueled her power, built in her body until her arms shook with the effort to contain it. Magic exploded from every pore in her skin, leaving her body in a mad rush that sent out a shock wave through the chamber. The ground shook with the force of it and sent furniture crashing to the wall and into broken piles on the pavement.

The rush of power as it funneled from her body left her weak and shaking. Her knees buckled and her vision blurred. Cecily felt her body crumple, her back slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. The blindfold had been ripped from her eyes and her vision was clear and brutally focused. Daire had chosen to lie to her about his past and she didn't know who or what she was really dealing with. That thought hurt her more than a knife in her already shattered heart.

Cecily hadn't cried in years. She'd forgotten how to cry after her mother died. And after nearly seven years in the presence of dwarves, she presumed her tears would never return.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

Her stomach heaved with silent sobs, and she shed a tear that ran from her nose and landed on the top of her knee. Perhaps this was her guilt in action – guilt that she'd been the reason her mother was murdered; guilt over being born a "half-breed" in a kingdom fueled by hatred of the unknown. In a matter of minutes, Rilien's words had proved her abilities to be more of a curse than the blessing Daire desperately wanted her to believe in.

Her lips shook, and her eyes filled to the brim with tears as she found herself trying to answer that inevitable question, once again: Who am I? She was overwhelmed by the sad feeling that she was in her own fool's paradise, naked and embarrassed. Her mother never told her that she was unwanted or that her birth-father was enraged at her for her very existence.

She was a monster.

Hot tears spilled onto Cecily's cheeks. She wiped them with her sleeve and tilted her head back against the door, trying to catch her breath. Swallowing hard, once and again, to keep her emotions from rising. But soon, that guilt and sadness turned into anger, anger at the person who destroyed everything in her life. If her mother's death wasn't an accident, Cecily was determined to find out who was responsible. They didn't deserve to live. She owed that much to her mother's memory.

For a long while she sat, but her mind was not spinning plans of revenge. It was as blank as her stare. Then, little by little, she began to focus on Rilien's words.