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Snowborn
Chapter Two ~ Exile

Chapter Two ~ Exile

"Elurra, you are acting childish. Let me in this instant!” Aleah demanded. Her voice sounded muffled through the wooden boards.

Elurra set another book on top of the trap door and sat on the pile, her chest heaving with exertion.

“No! I am not going. She killed my parents!”

Her voice caught and a sob escaped her lips, but she held herself together.

“Stop being ridiculous, Princess Elurra! Your accusations against your aunt are unjustified. There is no proof your aunt had anything to do with their murders, and it is vile to accuse her of such things. The king and queen—creators rest their souls—were murdered by roadside bandits before the blizzard. Everyone is grieved by their loss, and I understand you do not want anyone to try to fill their place, but Lur Alava needs her. You should understand this. Reagn has been ready to take over for years, and this is their perfect opportunity. Now that no one can find the Kutsal Stone…” Aleah trailed off, the implications obvious.

“You do not understand! She slaughtered them for the throne.”

Elurra's throat constricted, but she swallowed hard and dug her nails into her palms to fight the ache in her heart.

I am strong. I will not let my kingdom down, she told herself as she stood to find more books to stack on the trap door.

“Elurra, this is no way for a princess to act. In this time of sorrow, you should be getting to know your aunt and sharing in each other's grief. She is your father's sister, after all. They say she and your grandfather never saw eye to eye, and she ran away from the palace when she was a teenager. She only returned because we are desperate for a regent. We were lucky Lord Ollo knew where she was after all these years.”

Elurra knew Aleah was right; Lur Alava was desperate. Although she was entitled to the throne, she wasn’t old enough to become queen. Her parents' advisers were struggling to agree on who would be her proxy until she turned sixteen; many of them were in open war with each other. On top of everything, no one knew where the Kutsal Stone was. The kingdom suspected the roadside bandits had taken it, and Demons would start appearing in the night to feast.

The arrival of her long-lost aunt was like an answered prayer to the people, who eagerly accepted her humble offering to rule until Elurra became old enough to take the throne. But Elurra knew who her aunt really was. The moment Elurra saw Nitiri, she recognized her from the nightmare. She shuddered as an image of her father's death flashed through her mind. She would not let her aunt fool her, and she was not going to attend that woman’s coronation.

Aleah pushed against the door again, but Elurra had piles of books atop it, so it was too heavy for her governess.

“Fine, have it your way!" she yelled in exasperation.

Elurra heard her stomping down the stairs, but she knew it wasn't over. She ran to get more books, but Aleah returned with guards before she could fortify her stack. The large men easily opened the trap door, toppling the entire heap.

“You have no right to enter my room! Leave this instant!” Elurra commanded, her shrill voice echoing against the tower walls.

The guards hesitated, but Aleah sighed deeply and made a beeline for Elurra's closet.

“This is really not the time, princess. The coronation is in half an hour, and it will cause distress if you are not present. It is time to discard this misguided conviction and accept that your aunt is trying to help both you and the kingdom. You and your aunt are the only remaining members of the house Isálte. You must be strong for your people.”

Aleah plucked a black dress from its hanger. Ignoring Elurra's protests, she led her behind a curtain and forced her into the mourning gown. As soon as she was done, Aleah placed Elurra's crown over her golden hair and dragged her back out into the bedroom. The guards were waiting beside the trap door.

“Take Her Majesty to the coronation balcony please," Aleah requested.

Both soldiers nodded silently, and one reached out to guide Elurra by the arm. She looked directly into his eyes, her scowl boring straight into his soul. The man jerked back as if he had been shocked and hastily stepped to the side, allowing the other guard to lead the grumpy princess down the staircase.

With every step she took, Elurra felt more alone than ever before.

Aleah does not understand. No one does, she thought desperately.

She balled up her tiny fists in anger and cursed her small, weak body. No one took a child seriously. Before she knew it, she was standing on the royal balcony overlooking the snowy courtyard below. The icy wind tugged at her hair, enticing blonde locks to dance along her forehead. She shivered, but it wasn't because of the cold. The courtyard below was full of people. From her vantage point, they appeared to be a sea of shifting brown blobs. Elurra stood next to her small throne like a statue, waiting for the festivities to start. A minute later, three trumpet blasts filled the crisp air, their long clear notes silencing the murmurs below.

The people quieted as the herald called, “Lady Nitiri Isálte, sister to the late King Simon and daughter of the late King Rodith.”

The crowd’s cheers were an uneasy roar as Nitiri appeared on the balcony, her head held high and a sweet smile on her lips. Looking at her made Elurra queasy. Nitiri reached the balcony railing and waited for the cheering to quiet before speaking.

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“Dear people of Lur Alava, I regret the circumstances that bring me before you today. My dear brother was a strong leader and a just ruler. I doubt anyone could ever live up to his legacy. His lovely wife, the late Queen Iara, was wise and kind. Our great kingdom will feel the loss from their passing for many seasons to come.” She paused, letting her words sink in, before she continued, “I know that I will never be able to replace your dearly departed king, but I will do my best to keep Lur Alava safe and prosperous as queen reagent until Princess Elurra is old enough to take the throne. I cannot do this alone. Only with your support can I strive to do what is best for this kingdom. Please help me to rule fairly and justly.”

The crowd cheered, and Elurra clapped politely as she studied her aunt. Nitiri had the pale skin of a Lur Alavian, but her graying ginger hair was out of the ordinary for the North. Elurra could clearly see features Nitiri shared with the former king. Glimpsing those reminders of her father gnawed at the tightness in her chest. Nitiri’s posture portrayed a humble and friendly woman, and Elurra started to wonder if she had misjudged her aunt.

Maybe my nightmare was simply a dream, she thought.

The priest stepped forward and Nitiri turned, her eyes flashing in Elurra’s direction. Any doubt she had immediately vanished. She could see her aunt's cold calculating personality beneath the kind facade.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur. Elurra's heart pounded in her ears, and her blood roared through her veins. She wanted to intervene and stop her aunt from taking the throne, but she had no power. Everyone would think she was crazed with grief, and they would brush her off as a silly child.

The priest cleared his throat and said, “Regretfully, the true crown has not been recovered. We will use this proxy crown as a symbol of your rule until the original is found.”

As soon as the crown touched Nitiri's head and everyone on the royal balcony stood to the cheers of the crowd, Elurra made a break for the door. She slipped past the row of dignitaries and advisers blocking her path. Unexpectedly, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned to find Nitiri staring at her, a patient smile curling her lips. Elurra shivered and quickened her pace.

She reached her room before she heard the click of high heels against the stone floor, betraying the woman’s presence as she climbed the stairs to Elurra’s tower. Her heart jumped into her throat and she spun wildly, looking for somewhere to hide.

She considered her bed, but immediately dismissed it as too obvious. She went through a similar process with most of the other furniture until her eyes fell on the wardrobe. She climbed in behind her dresses and pulled the door closed just as the trap door swung open.

“Oh Elurra, where are you?” Nitiri called as she emerged from the hole in the floor, her voice sickly sweet.

Elurra peeked through the crack in the wardrobe doors. Her aunt's hazel eyes scanned the large chamber. She walked over to the bed slowly.

“Come talk to me, my dear niece. I have things we need to discuss,” she cooed as she peered under the bed, then stood up, her brow furrowed. She looked around the room and climbed the ladder to the library that lived above Elurra’s room. The shelves were set into the stone, so it seemed the books were part of the walls. A small walkway jutted out beneath them so visitors could wander the full circumference of the tower, browsing titles and illustrations until they found the perfect companion for an afternoon. Nitiri walked around the upper level, glancing between and behind bookcases. Her calls had become strained with frustration. She descended and checked under the sofas and tables and behind chairs and curtains. For the first time, Elurra felt grateful for her richly furnished room.

“Oh direi? Where are you?” she called in a singsong tone.

Anger flushed through Elurra at the sound of her mother’s favorite endearment. Her blood ran so hot it felt like she had been doused in flames.

“Do not call me that, witch!” Elurra yelled before she could stop herself.

She clapped a hand over her mouth and quietly leaned back, hoping the expanse of the room swallowed her words before Nitiri heard. Her aunt's head snapped up, and she glanced in the wardrobe’s direction, smiling. She pulled a small wooden box from inside her cloak.

“You know, then. You are an intelligent little girl, but you are still naive.”

She carefully opened the box and pulled out a small snow-white spider, about the size of a shirt button. She whispered something to it, and then dropped it on the floor.

“Your father was wrong about you. He said you weren’t dangerous." The spider reached the wardrobe in the center of the room and slipped through the crack in the thick wooden doors. “But I think you’re the biggest threat to my plans. So, I will dispose of you immediately.”

The spider skittered up Elurra's back inside the wardrobe and bit the terrified girl behind her ear. She let out a whimper, and her blue eyes shifted to gold.

“Come out," Nitiri commanded.

Elurra felt her muscles complying with the request, despite her brain desperately trying to keep them still. She pushed open the oak doors and stepped out to face the new queen regent. Nitiri looked her over and reached out to touch her hair.

“You are as beautiful as your mother. There are so few fair-haired girls in this world. It's a shame two have to die so close together.”

She let the golden strands slip from her fingers, and Elurra noted the strange ring on her finger. It was a spider made of pearls. The abdomen was a large and black, and the head was smaller, but the same color. Four silver legs protruded from each side, connecting to the body of the ring. Nitiri stroked Elurra’s hair absentmindedly while Elurra contained her revulsion in silence as she found it impossible to recoil due to whatever was controlling her. For a moment, it looked like Nitiri was going to change her mind, but then her face hardened.

“Tell me, Elurra. Where is the Kutsal Stone?”

“I do not know," Elurra croaked in a monotone.

Nitiri's eyes narrowed and she growled with frustration. “It appears your parents hid it well. Alas, there’s nothing I can do about it now but move on to my second plan.” She sighed and pulled a knife out from under the folds of her dress. “Go to the kingdom of Amora and kill yourself with this dagger.”

Elurra took the large blade in her tiny shaking hands. The seal of Amora adorned the hilt. “I-I do not k-know the way," she stammered, her mind reeling as she fought for control.

Nitiri frowned and turned back to the pile of books strewn about the room, leftovers from Elurra’s earlier exploits. She quickly located the atlas and flipped through it until she found a map of the area. Elurra screamed inside as she watched her aunt rip a page out of the book before returning to Elurra’s side. Seeing the page lying limp away from its binding seemed like a too-accurate analogy for how she felt without her parents. Nitiri showed the page to her niece, pointed to Tor’ac Roh, and drew an invisible line with her finger.

“You will take this direct route through the woods and cross the border through the Romon pass. Avoid all contact with people along the way. You will not enter any towns, and you’ll stay clear of any homesteads you come across. You may only eat what you find in the forest and not light any fires. Do I make myself clear?”

Elurra felt herself nod and she fought back frustrated tears.

“Good. Now go. Let us hope I will next see you in a coffin."

Nitiri waved goodbye. Elurra left her room and walked numerous flights of stairs to the front gates of the palace. Servants greeted her as she passed. No one tried to stop her as the spider carried her away from the castle.