Spellbinders Secret

Bonus Chapter (Callum's POV)

It was an average day. Well, except for the fact that my parents had called me to the throne room. I already knew what it was about, and I honestly didn't care, but my parents did. It was all about my personal safety and how I need to be protected at all times, blah, blah, blah. Whatever, it's not like it matters.

I can vividly remember the day I was almost killed. It was only a week ago, and though it doesn't seem like it, the incident has left me slightly shaken. One minute, I was slouching in my chair, listening to one of my father's boring speeches at an intervention in a small village not far from here. I didn't even know what it was about, but I did know that I had a very itchy leg. As I bent over to scratch it, not paying the sudden whistling any heed, I wondered why anyone would want to be king. All that power was somewhat meaningless when all you did was give speeches, sign paperwork and sit in a glorified chair all day. Just as I was thinking that, an abrupt THUD! Had caught my attention. Jumping to my feet, I turned to stare at the black feathered arrow that had embedded itself in the back of my chair. As people shouted with surprise and the royal guards, Stephan in the lead, rolled in, all I could think was that it could've been me.

As I reach the massive double doors to the throne room, the guards on either side open them for me. Without paying them any attention, I stroll right in, seeing my parents. Thinking back on the situation, perhaps a Protector wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"Son," my father acknowledges. His voice is dry, disappointment running through it thickly. He always speaks to me that way, like I'm the shame of the realms. Perhaps I am, but I probably wouldn't care either way. If I want to sit in my room and do nothing all day, that should be my choice, not his.

"Father," I respond, moving to my seat. My mother looks at me sadly. She always does that. Sitting down and making myself comfortable, I give my parents a side way glance. "So, who is it?" I ask impatiently. It's probably some old, worn warrior who's no longer in active service. Easy to manipulate. Good.

"You'll see," my father answers. Is it just me, or does he sound slightly amused? Frowning, I slouch further into my throne. It's surprisingly comfy with it's velvet cushions. Suddenly, the massive double doors open, and I can't help but gasp at the sight that reveals itself.

It's a girl. Actually, no, it's a pretty girl. Her black hair is tied up in a messy bun. Her green eyes compliment the plain, green dress she wears. I notice that as she reaches us and curtsies, her lovely eyes scan us, taking notes and making assumptions. They seem to light up when they look at my parents, but as I see them observe me, I make myself look disinterested. Is it just me, or do her eyes take me in with just a little bit of disgust? Why does this annoy me? Why do I even want her to like me?

No! I will not give into her like that. However, I can't deny the fact that a pretty, strong willed female doesn't make me squirm just a little bit. In spite of her innocent and fragile facade, her eyes gleam with a confidence that tells me she knows which end of a sword to use. This could be interesting.

***

OK, she's not just good, she's brilliant. She beat my father in a sword fight, and my mother saw something in her, I'm not sure what, but she definitely saw something. When she fought my father though... there was something about the grace with which she moved that made her look balanced, in control and... beautiful? Yes actually, beautiful.

And you know what? It was making me uncomfortable. Yes. That's the right word. Uncomfortable. The way she moved with an agile grace, or the way she looked at you when you spoke, as though she were deciding whether to trust you not. She's Miss Ella of the Resistance, and even I've heard of her. She's one of the Resistance's most famous warriors, and also their youngest, she's tough and driven, but by what?