The Dragon Queen's Heir [book one]

2

WHEN I'M BACK IN MY ROOM, I stand in front of my mirror with the stone in my fist pondering how my new face should look. I have to decide fast—dinner should be over any minute now, and the guard will be posted by my door, preventing me from escaping.

Okay, I think to myself, giving my body a once-over. The red hair has to go. I imagine straight, white-blonde locks, stopping around my shoulders, a drastic change to my elbow-length curly red hair. My scalp tingles, and the image in front of me wavers as my hair changes color. Even though I know it's only an illusion, I'm sad to see my hair go, knowing that if I succeed, I will never be able to reveal my true identity as a princess to anyone.

I take a deep breath and turn to my eyes next, willing them to change to gray-blue, the color most of the village girls living around the castle have. My irises immediately change from the inside out, going from a colorless gray to a bright blue. Already, I'm unrecognizable, but I need to make absolute sure no one will guess who I really am.

I darken my skin until it's a deep tan, then, finally satisfied, drop the stone into the pocket of my trousers—I'd changed as soon as I'd gotten safely back to my room—and slip on a heavy coat, running my fingers through my new hair a few times before picking up my sack of food and glancing around my room a final time. "Goodbye, Lucy," I whisper to my dog, who is sound asleep, curled up in her bed. I can't risk waking her up lest she start barking and give me away, so I settle with a simple pat on her head before I slip out of my room.

As I rush down the halls towards the kitchens, silently saying goodbye to all the things and places I'd grown up with, a thought strikes me: if I try and fail to become a dragon rider, I'll have to return to the palace and face my mother's wrath. The thought of dealing with that level of anger motivates me to get out of the palace as fast as I can, and when I finally reach the kitchens, I breath a sigh of relief.

Cautiously opening the servant's door, I peer into the kitchens, praying everyone has already returned to their quarters. Luckily, it's empty—as far as I can tell—and I push the door open wider, stepping over the threshold before gently latching the door back in its place. As I make my way through the foreign place, I search my memory, trying to remember where the back door is. I remember having used it to escape the palace before, but the time and place elude me as I wander through the kitchens like a drunk.

"Hey! You!" a voice calls from behind me. I whirl around to find a face I know all too well—one of the members of my guard, Anton. He's served me since I was a child, helping me through the crowded streets of the village on some of the rare days I went out with my mother, before my father was killed and before she became the control freak she is today.

I take a deep breath, my heart racing. "Anton, I—" Right as the words leave my mouth, I remember I look nothing like Ashlyn Rehlia and have everything in common with a petty thief. Cursing myself, I straighten, opening my mouth to come up with some explanation.

Anton frowns, a lock of his blond hair falling into his face. "How do you know my name?"

Making a split second decision, I let the stone's power leave me, and my hair returns to its normal length and color, spilling over my shoulders as Anton gapes. "Anton, this is really important. I need to leave the palace without my mother knowing. Could you help me find the back door to this place?" I say, praying Anton believes me and helps me without tipping off my mother tomorrow.

After a moment, Anton nods, swallowing hard. I bring the disguise back over me and follow him through the maze of rooms before coming to a cold stone door in a barely-lit room full of trash cans and bags of spoiled food. "Thank you," I breathe, taking a step toward the door. Before I leave, I turn around and lightly hug Anton before hurrying through the door and into the cold night air of the village.

If the kitchen was a maze, this must be a new universe, I think to myself as I adjust my bag over my shoulder. Having not been outside the palace in years, I have no clue where the nearest inn is, so I pick a direction and start walking, keeping my chin up and my grip tight on my sack. I curse myself for not thinking to bring a knife, but if all else fails, I have my bag to swing at anyone who looks at me the wrong way.

The cold leaks into my coat, sending goosebumps all across my skin, and I shiver, my nose numb. My teeth are chattering by the time I find an inn, but I ignore it and step inside, the warm air of a fireplace immediately soothing my nerves. The lobby is eerily quiet as a step forward, placing a carefully-crafted smile on my face and approaching the front desk. "I'd like a room, please."

The receptionist examines me, narrowing her eyes before saying, "Isn't that what we all want?" Her voice sounds strangled, her face a map of wrinkles despite her youthful gaze and full brown hair. At my silence, she sighs and tells me the price. I hand over some coins from my bag, my heart thumping in my ears, and clench the hard wood of the desk. The woman counts the money, then looks back up at me. "It'll be extra for my silence. You look like someone on the run."

I freeze. "No, ma'am, that won't be necessary." Still smiling, I take a key and go up a flight of stairs to find my room. The inn is smaller than it appears outside, and I find my room in no time, sliding the key into the lock and stepping inside. It's nothing like what I had at home, but I force myself to kick off my boots and slide under the scratchy sheets anyway.

Despite my worry of being found, darkness soon carries me away, and I fall into a dreamless sleep. 

And she's out! Do you think she'll successfully make it to the Selecting tomorrow? Let me know in the comments, and please consider dropping a vote if you enjoyed this chapter (:

~ Amber