The Illyrian Series: The Oracle Of Rosedale
Chapter 2

A small smile graces my lips as the arrow hits the bullseye. I select another shaft from the quiver and point it straight at the target. I see Reagan out of the corner of my eye and consider pointing the weapon at her.

I can picture it now. Reagan writhing in a pool of blood. Dead. I then think about what will happen next. Her father will personally chop off my head, he'll probably move on to mother next.

It'll be for the best if I don't murder my stepsister.

I shoot the arrow and once again, it lands on the bullseye. Our trainer, Maynard, nods approvingly. "It's good to see that you've been practicing, Lady Adria." He turns to my stepsister. "Princess Reagan, you're next."

I don't stay to watch her presentation, I excuse myself and go for a stroll around the training grounds. I love these solo walks, they give me opportunities to relax and clear my head.

My first few months in Caledonia, I wasn't allowed to walk by myself. The King was scared I'd run away, or kill myself, or secretly organize a revolution against him. The first two I understand but the last one is just ridiculous. Who would have followed a fourteen-year-old girl and supported her movement to overthrow one of the most powerful kings in the world?

I've been here three years and have bought myself some much-needed privacy.

The past few years have been painful, sometimes I lie awake and ask myself if I should just adopt my mother's grief coping mechanism. Just laugh and smile even though I'm dying inside. She's so good at hiding her real feelings, I almost started believing they were real.

But then a few weeks after we arrived, she cut her palm on broken glass and cried for three hours.

I still remember the first day we came back. That was the day I met Spencer and Reagan. Spencer is the crown prince, King Evander's heir. He's two years older than me while his sister is a few months my junior. Spencer looked so much like his father. I hated him instantly. Over the years that I've known him, he's been nice...a little too nice.

His sister on the other hand is the exact opposite. She seemed nice when I first met her but slowly began to unravel and show her true intentions. She hates me but loves my mother. Everyone who meets them mentions how much they look alike. They both have long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. I on the other hand look nothing like my mother. I have dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and my skin tone matches my father's brown one.

The day after we arrived was the wedding. That day also doubled as the coronation. Mother went from being Queen of Illyria to Queen of Caledonia. I on the other hand, was introduced as Lady Adria Pembroke. Not only was I demoted from princess to lady, I also lost my last name. I was no longer a Kadden, but a Pembroke. King Evander made sure to scrub that name from all four corners of the earth.

Before we left Illyria, he made sure to kill any male threat to the throne and married all the eligible girls off to members of his nobility. Most refused and either lost their heads or lived and join the resistance.

King Evander has done everything he can to suppress it but those people are relentless. The cause is hopeless, hundreds maybe even thousands have been tossed off Brooke Bridge, but they keep pressing on. I'm not sure if it's stupid or admirable.

The few women who married nobles are basically under house arrest at their husband's country home. I haven't seen any of them in court since I got here. The men who surrendered either left to join the resistance or stayed here, hating themselves for their cowardice.

I don't like remembering the events of those dark days. It's especially hard to ignore them this time of year. July 3rd is a day of victory for Caledonians, the same cannot be said for Illyrians. That was the day they lost their king, their country, and their freedom. King Evander holds a big feast on that night and there's a celebration all over the kingdom. It's my worst nightmare.

I see a group of men from the royal guard training up ahead and turn back. I'm relieved when I escape unnoticed. It's been three years and I still can't get over my hatred for Caledonian soldiers. I head into the castle and pass hurrying maids as I walk to my mother's drawing room.

"Darling." She beams when she sees me. "Look at this, isn't it gorgeous. For your dress." She raises the dark blue suede to me and smooths it over with her fingers. "I can already imagine it on you, you'll look so beautiful."

I ignore the clothe and instead sit next to her. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." I start. "I don't want to go to the feast, I can't do it. Please don't make me."

Her face falls and she calls the young girl serving our tea. "Dalia, take this to the tailor. Tell her to start instantly." The maid bows and rushes off to do her Queen's bidding. Mother faces me with a serious expression. "Nonsense, you're going. I see no reason why you shouldn't."

I massage my forehead and exhale deeply. "I can't keep having these conversations with you, it's exhausting. You deal with this however you want, just please, don't force me to smile like everything is fine when it certainly isn't."

"Adria." Her voice is sharp. "I am tired of having this conversation with you. It's been three years, you have to move on. You'll be 18 soon, you're not a child. How long will you keep being unhappy?" My fingers slide down and pinch the bridge of my nose. I finally look at her, she looks worried. "This is hard on me too, very hard. I hear upsetting news every day and I have to act like it's not bothering me but it is. I'm not asking you to be overjoyed or act like nothing ever happened. I'm asking you to move on and try and be content, it's what your father would have wanted." She spits out.

I storm out of the room before I say something I'll regret. Sometimes I really hate talking to my mother.

I stay in my room for the rest of the afternoon. When it's time for dinner, I take a deep breath and arrive at the grande dining room.

I'm late. The room is full and everyone has started eating. On either side of me is a long wooden table decorated with a white and blue tablecloth. There's a big window on the left that lets light into the room during the daytime. It's night now and various silver sconces fastened to the wall hold lit candles. The fire brightens up the room and provide warmth from the cool night air.

I walk up to the table in front of the room and courtesy to the King. I sit next to my mother and remain silent. I can't help but catch snippets of conversations going on around me.

"Mother," Reagan says, causing me to recoil. She started calling her that a few months after we got here. I'm not sure if she's doing it to get under my skin. If she is, it's working. "I have some ideas for my dress. I wanted to run them by you."

"Well of course, darling." I consider slashing my wrists with my knife when I hear that. Mother knows I hate it when they act like this. But she does it nonetheless. She argued that King Evander likes their relationship, so it's best not to tempt it.

I reach for my glass with an unsteady hand and accidentally knock it over. The red, blood-like wine spills and soaks the white tablecloth.

"May I please be excused? I don't feel good." My voice is hoarse. "I wouldn't want to vomit in front of the court."

"That would be mortifying." Mother sounds horrified. "Do you need someone to walk you back to your room?"

I want to decline the offer but I know it's best if I say yes. So, I nod.

"I hope this sickness doesn't keep you from attending the celebration feast." King Evander sees right through my facade. Well, near facade.

"I wouldn't dream of it, your majesty." I get up. Three years and I'm still deathly scared of him. He's grown bigger over the years. Now that he's won his war, he's been overindulging and let himself develop a large stomach. He might not be the warrior king he once was but his presence is still very domineering. I don't want to get on his bad side.

I leave the dining and go to my room, a maid is close behind me. As soon as I'm there, Rainey helps me get ready for bed.

She combs through my thick hair and wraps it into a bun for the night. "I don't know what I'd do without you." I say to our reflection in the mirror.

"You'll be fine, your hair on the other hand." She jokes and I smile. I climb into bed and she blows out the candles as she walks by. I lay my head on the pillow and soon fall into a still sleep.

I'm transported into a world that feels surreal and I'm not sure if I'm awake or asleep. I find myself in a place I haven't been in three years. The front garden of our castle in Illyria. I walk past the carefully decorated hedges to the fountain in the middle.

There’s a little girl running around. I hear her laughter before I see her. "Hello. Excuse me." I call. She turns back and I jump back in horror when I see that it's...me.

She stops laughing suddenly, her face becomes very serious. "They're waiting for you." The little girl says, pointing past me.

"Who is?" She doesn't reply.

She keeps pointing at the castle. "They're waiting for you." She repeats.

I sit up in my bed and let out a loud gasp. That was the strangest dream I've ever had.

I try to go back to sleep but I keep having the same nightmare. The same castle, the same fountain, the same little girl saying the same thing.

I wake up for the last time the next morning feeling exhausted.

I don't think much of the recurring dreams and instead, go about my day as usual.

I look terrible, my eyelids are dark and my cheeks look gaunt. During dinner, mother can't stop asking about my health.

"Rainey said you kept waking up, gasping for air and sweating. Are you sure you're alright?"

King Evander finally takes in my sorry state. He looks alarmed and a bit shocked that I wasn't faking last night. I mean I was, but he doesn't need to know that. "If this keeps up, we'll have a physician look at you," he says. My mother smiles at that.

The next night, I have the same dream.

I march straight to the little girl and try to hold her. My hand passes through her fog-like body and I'm convinced I'm hallucinating.

"They're waiting for..." I cut her off.

"Waiting for me, yes I know." I take a deep breath and walk with wary steps into the castle. The halls are dark and empty. I open the first door and am jolted awake.

I sit up and don't bother going back to sleep. My head throbs and I rest it on the soft mattress. I'm soon pulled back into a slumber and relive the same dream. Whenever I open a door, I wake up, then start it all over again when I go back to sleep.

When the sun comes up, I'm exhausted and can barely get out of bed. The physician diagnoses this as fatigue and I would have rolled my eyes if they weren't closed, and if every movement didn't hurt.

Reagan comes to my room to visit me and I pretend to be asleep just so I won't have to talk to her. She sits on the edge of my bed, I feel her staring down at me. "I know you're awake." She breaks the silence.

I don't move, I'm not ready to drop my pretense. Maybe I'll start snoring after a few seconds.

She sighs. "Open your eyes, Adria."

I huff and open them. The room feels too bright so I squint and close them back. "What is it, Reagan?”

"Just came to check on you." I snort. "Is it so hard to believe that I care?"

"Thank you, Reagan, I'm fine," I say in a low voice.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" I open my eyes and she's smiling condescendingly. "Mother has been very worried about you."

I bite my lip in anger. "You can tell 𝙢𝙮 mother that I'm fine. I just need to get some rest."

She smiles. "It's not a competition Adria, mother loves us both equally." She then taps my forehead, gently kicking up my migraine and drifts away quietly.

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