Identity (The Kingdom Chronicles Book 3) Page 2

  Her smirk became wicked and my heart pounded at the triumphant gleam in her eyes. There couldn’t be a way for her to force me into this, could there?

  “Poor Anwen, so naive. Do you honestly think I’d risk my happiness and freedom on the chance you’d expose our switch?” She advanced a step and I instinctively stepped away, backing into her bedpost.

  “What do you mean?” My voice shook, betraying my fear—fear that seemed to please her.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t guessed.” She pulled a ring off her finger. My stomach sank.

  It was the Lycerian contract ring.

  I only knew bits and pieces about the enchanted royal heirloom that had been in the Lycerian Royal Family for generations. All one had to do to create an unbreakable contract was speak it out loud while holding the ring before putting it on the victim, who would then be forced to obey it. The centuries-old ring could only be removed by the one who’d put it on, which would break the contract.

  I couldn’t believe such a powerful object existed. I’d heard enough ancient stories about its rare use to make me certain I never wanted to be a forced wearer of the ring. To my knowledge, the ring hadn’t been used in generations, only kept by the royal family for the sake of tradition. Unsurprisingly, Princess Lavena would scoff at tradition and choose to take advantage of such a dangerous object.

  “Where did you get that?” I whispered.

  She smirked. “I stole it from Mother’s jewelry box months ago, thinking perhaps it might come in handy some day…and now it will.” She took a step closer.

  I stepped back. “You can’t use that ring,” I stuttered.

  The firelight flickered sinisterly off the engraved gold band as she examined it with a thoughtful expression. It was hard to believe something so simple could be so dangerous. “Why can’t I?”

  “Because it’s wrong.”

  She laughed coldly. “I don’t care about that; I only care that it works.”

  She advanced another step, approaching for the kill like a reduviidae—an assassin bug who’d targeted me as its victim. I darted to the side and bolted for the door, but the princess was closer and blocked it once more.

  “Stop running, Anwen. Must you be so uncooperative?”

  “Don’t put that ring on me, Your Highness. I beg you.”

  “You’ve left me no choice. I can’t allow your ridiculous resistance to get in my way.” She leapt forward, but I ducked and managed to make it to the door. I’d no sooner yanked it open than the princess slammed it shut, seized my wrist, and lifted the ring.

  “You will take my place and become Princess Lavena.” As she spoke, the ring began to glow. I yanked and tugged, but her grip was too strong to break. “You will tell no one you are the handmaiden Anwen, nor show this ring to anyone to reveal you’re bound by a contract. Our switch will remain a secret.”

  I tried harder to wriggle away, but it was as if the enchantment of the ring had given the princess strength beyond her own, keeping me within her grasp whether I wanted to be or not.

  “You will behave in such a way that no one will suspect our switch.”

  “You’re insane,” I panted, exhausted from the effort of trying to make an escape I now realized with horror was impossible. “This can’t possibly work. The switch will be discovered and I’ll be forced to take the fall for it.”

  She merely shrugged. “Oh well.”

  And she shoved the ring onto my finger. Searing heat encircled my finger as it melded to my skin, sending throbbing pain pulsing up my arm. I yanked away from the princess’s now slackened grip and tried to tug the ring off. It wouldn’t budge. Instead it tightened further, burning me.

  Tears clogged my throat. “Take it off, Your Highness. Please.”

  But she didn’t. She merely watched my struggle with a satisfied smirk, triumph glistening in her eyes at another plot successfully executed. I knew that no matter how much I fought, I was now an unwilling accomplice to her horrible scheme.

  And already I felt as if the Anwen in me was beginning to die.

  Chapter 2

  I took every opportunity I could find over the next three days to attempt to pull off the ring now symbolizing my chains, but it remained unyielding. The first several hours after it’d been placed on my finger it hadn’t ceased to burn, making sleep impossible. Even without the white-hot pain encircling my finger, sleep would still have eluded me. My mind raced as I frantically searched for a loophole to the princess’s contract, but I could see no way out; I was trapped.

  But I refused to give up.

  I vainly hoped Princess Lavena would eventually come to her senses and become less enamored with either her minstrel or the idea of using him as a way to escape her unwanted engagement. Unfortunately, the princess only became more excited with the thought of ridding herself of her royal duties and political obligations. That didn’t prevent me from trying to talk sense into her, but I might as well have been speaking to my insect collections for all the good it did me.

  When I wasn’t trying to dissuade the princess, I made several attempts to go to Their Majesties, but the mere thought of doing so would cause my legs to tighten and my tongue to become trapped in my throat, all while the ring burned in reminder of the forced contract to which I was bound.

  The princess spent the days before the wedding grooming me for the task of becoming her, not just in looks but in decorum. I’d already received a great deal of training in royal etiquette over the years when she’d forced me to take her place at various court functions, which unfortunately made the short timeframe for the princess’s plan possible.

  But that didn’t mean I would cooperate willingly. Despite the ring’s power, Anwen still remained alive and stubbornly resistant inside me, and I’d embrace her for as long as she had left.

  “No, Anwen, stop slouching.” Princess Lavena pulled my shoulders back to straighten my spine. “A princess must have perfect posture. Do you want to be found out and subsequently thrown in the dungeon?”

  I gritted my teeth as once more the princess used her newest weapon against me: since I was unwillingly trapped in the charade, I had to perform it well enough to avoid detection.

  “It’s hard to stand up straight when carrying a burden as heavy as deceit,” I snapped.

  She cocked a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “You’ve gotten a lot bolder. You’re usually the embodiment of submissiveness and sweetness.”

  “Aren’t I supposed to be becoming you?”

  I expected her to become angry at my rare moment of talking back, but instead she merely smirked. “Excellent, Anwen. Continue to snap at me; you need the practice.”

  Now I’d lost my only means of fighting against this scheme: my words. I sighed.

  The princess lessons continued—how to walk gracefully, carry myself with poise, speak elegantly, and adopt the princess’s habits I’d be expected to emulate. Each chipped away at the former goose girl and handmaiden, molding me to fit a part I didn’t want to play, all while the thought of my upcoming deceit and danger clenched my heart. There was no doubt I’d eventually be caught as an imposter, and then Anwen wouldn’t just be hidden—she’d die.

  That thought caused me to slip away at every opportunity and try to take off the ring. With each attempt it awakened from its slumber to sadistically inflict pain that felt like searing fire lapping up my arm, a reminder I was trapped and there was nothing I could do about it. To mask my whimpers, I bit my lip so hard it bled.

  “I’m pleased you’re being so stubborn, Anwen; it’s another trait of mine you’ll now be expected to emulate.”

  I spun around to find the princess smirking in the doorway. “Please take it off.”

  As usual, my pleas were a waste of breath, for she merely laughed. I made another firm tug on the unyielding ring. It remained fused to my finger. What kind of powerful charm was this?

  “Keep trying, Anwen,” she said cheerily, as if she found my torment truly amusing. “Perhaps this time y
ou’ll manage to break the unbreakable enchantment.”

  I continued tugging through the pain. “I won’t give up. I’m not—willingly tricking—His Highness…” I spoke each word through gritted teeth.

  Princess Lavena smirked. “It hurts, doesn’t it? It wouldn’t if you’d stop fighting it.”

  I gave another feeble tug. Nothing happened except for another flash of pain and the ring glimmering in the light, as if laughing at my failure; its sadistic satisfaction matched the wicked triumph in the princess’s eyes.

  “Stop this foolishness, Anwen. It’s too late. The wedding is tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow? The wedding couldn’t be here already, not when I was still entangled in the princess’s ridiculous scheme. “Please, Your Highness, you can’t really expect me to—”

  “Stop arguing. I’ve made up my mind, and your ingratitude at my generosity and your constant badgering is wearying me.”

  “I’m just trying to be you,” I snapped again, but instead of being annoyed like I’d hoped, she only laughed and commenced a review of proper princess behavior. I did badly on purpose, hoping my performance would make her realize how unfit I was for her ridiculous charade, but by her triumphant smirk, I knew she saw through my bluff. Despite my resistance now, we both knew that when the time came, I’d do my best not to get caught. Who needed an enchanted ring when the noose was the best motivator?

  Later that evening, I packed the princess’s things into her trunk in preparation for the morrow while she lay on her bed daydreaming about what she was convinced would be a romantic, magical future, one I was certain would be nothing but a disaster.

  “Can you imagine sleeping under the stars every night?” Princess Lavena said with a wistful sigh as I carefully folded another gown that would soon be mine—despite it being far too elegant for me—and placed it into her trunk.

  “You hate the outdoors, Your Highness. Imagine: you’ll quickly be covered in bug bites from sleeping beneath the stars. The conenose—or kissing bugs—are particularly nasty; they like to feed off the blood around people’s mouths, not to mention many spiders are nocturnal—”

  “That’s quite enough, Anwen.” The princess actually looked quite green. “Bugs aside, it’s still a romantic notion.” But she no longer sounded certain. Perhaps I was finally making progress.

  But my hopes were dashed when the princess resumed her gushing about all the wonderful things her new life was sure to bring. I turned my back to her and pretended to rearrange the contents of the trunk so I could roll my eyes without her seeing. I immediately stilled. Such behavior was normally unlike me. Already, I seemed to be becoming the princess. My heart clenched at the thought.

  “Your Highness, I truly don’t think your minstrel will make you happy. Soon you’ll want your old life back.”

  Her responding sigh was less wondrous and more…sad. I paused in my folding to face her. A shadow had passed across the princess’s countenance, one I’d seen several times in the years I’d served her.

  “Ever since…” For a moment she was silent before sighing again. “Nothing can make me happy, not anymore, no matter how much I search.”

  I stared at her, trying to make sense of both her words and the pain filling her eyes. “Your Highness?”

  She hastily blinked and the emotion vanished as quickly as it’d arrived. “Anything is better than marrying Liam and spending a boring existence as his queen—such a dull responsibility, even worse when I have to give up my pleasures for subjects not my own. Why should I sacrifice my freedom for them?”

  I hated to admit it, but Draceria would likely be better off without her as their monarch…not that I’d do any better; I didn’t expect to survive long enough to find out. Cold fear crept up my spine.

  “Please, Your Highness, this is foolish. I’m unfit to be queen.”

  As always, she waved my pleas aside. “Hurry up and finish so I can check and be sure you haven’t secretly packed away any of your ridiculous bug things.”

  I froze. I’d already hidden a few of my favorite entomology books amongst the princess’s things and planned to smuggle my entire collection the moment she went to bed. She frowned at me through narrowed eyes, detecting my guilt.

  I slumped in defeat. “I’ll keep them locked away.”

  “That’s not good enough,” she said. “You’re supposed to be becoming me and thus can no longer be interested in your creepy crawlies.”

  She made it sound so easy to kill parts of oneself and become a different person. “I can’t just stop.”

  “You’ll have to.” The princess stepped forward to rummage through her trunk and withdrew two of my favorite insect anthologies, which she tossed aside. “No more of this nonsense. The moment you leave, your entire collection will be thrown out.”

  I tightened my jaw. We’d see about that. Princess Lavena eyed my hardened expression and her own softened slightly.

  “Stop pouting, Anwen. I have a surprise for you. I’ve arranged for your brother to be appointed to the position of Royal Hunter. Now he’ll be occupied and not even notice your absence.”

  Archer! In all my worrying about myself I’d failed to consider how my disappearance would affect my only remaining family. “Please, I have to tell him, Your Highness. If I disappear without a word he’ll be worried sick.”

  “He’ll be much too busy to worry about you since he’ll conveniently be out of the picture. See? I’ve thought of everything.”

  Everything but the pain of losing my dearest friend. “Just because you and your brother aren’t close doesn’t mean—”

  “Stop whining, Anwen. I’m not completely heartless; I’ve arranged for him to meet you in the servants’ quarters so that you can say goodbye.”

  And with that she shooed me away. Tears burned my eyes as I trudged from the room. This would likely be the last time Archer and I ever spoke. My heart ached at the thought of his inevitable worry, but I forced myself to blink my tears away. He couldn’t see them, couldn’t know anything was amiss, not when I was bound by a magical contract to remain silent.

  As I descended to the servants’ quarters, I silently said goodbye to everything having to do with Anwen: a brother I cared for, my common status, my fellow servants greeting me by name…I said a longer goodbye to each of my character traits and interests before they too were stolen away forever. I felt as if I were killing off parts of myself, slowly casting away my very identity until Anwen no longer existed.

  But I refused to let myself slip away completely. Instead, I’d lock Anwen away in a strongbox buried deep in the recesses of my soul. Knowing a part of me was there would give me enough strength to put on my permanent mask and begin my new identity. But not yet. Right now, I was still Anwen with a beloved brother to see.

  My breath hooked when I spotted him waiting for me. I studied him, attempting to memorize each of his features to sustain me for however long my new life of deceit would be. Our features were quite similar—same dark hair and dark eyes—only his expression was drawn and serious, his brow furrowed and his shoulders in a stance that revealed he’d witnessed too much heartache in his life.

  But he always had a smile for me. He gave it to me now as he held his arms open. “There’s my Anwen. Have you heard of my royal appointment? I’ll be going on all sorts of adventures and need a hug from my favorite sister to wish me luck.”

  I ran into his arms and burrowed myself against him, inhaling his woodsy scent as his firm arms held me close.

  “Are you going to miss me, Anwen?” he murmured.

  I choked back a sob. I couldn’t cry. “You have no idea how much, Archer. I love you.”

  “And I love you, Pillbug.” It had been his nickname for me ever since I’d immersed myself in studying insects, one I’d likely never hear again. “But I’ll be back soon. Someone has to keep me out of trouble.” He cupped my chin.

  If only he knew how much trouble I was about to find myself in. The secret burned on my tongue as the princes
s’s ring seared on my finger. I tried to make myself form the words to tell him what was happening to me, but my tongue turned to lead and my words became trapped in my throat, the power of the ring forcing my silence.

  “Her Highness informed me of your release,” Archer continued. “I’m relieved you’re finally free from her, Pillbug.”

  My stomach jolted. Princess Lavena had said what? I yanked away with a gasp. “She’s releasing me?”

  His brow furrowed. “She hasn’t told you? Yes, she said after the wedding she’ll no longer have need of you.”

  Had the princess no compassion? If Archer had believed I was still the princess’s servant, my remaining behind in Draceria after her wedding wouldn’t have alarmed him, but now he’d return to Lyceria following his upcoming hunt to find I’d vanished.

  No, I refused to allow that. I opened my mouth to tell him I’d be remaining in Draceria indefinitely, but the ring brandishing my finger thought even this much information a breach of its sadistic contract. It burned once again, silencing me.

  Archer lifted my chin, eyes concerned. “Are you alright, Pillbug? Has the princess been horrible to you again?” As usual, he referred to her like an expletive.

  If only he knew just how horrible she was currently being. Frustration swelled within me at my inability to tell him. I burrowed myself against him instead.

  He sighed at my silence. “She’s awful to you. Whatever your new position, I’m so relieved you’ll at least be free of her. With my appointment to the royal hunt, I’ll finally earn enough coin so that we can soon return home to our meadow and your geese. It’ll be alright, Pillbug.”

  No, it wouldn’t. How agonizing I couldn’t even tell him so. I bit the inside of my lip to keep my tears at bay.

  “Can you say my name?” I whispered, needing to hear it from him one last time.

  “You don’t like that nickname anymore? I suppose whether or not I want to admit it, you’ve grown up.”