Chapter 8

As seconds passed by, Ayla found herself biting her nails. It was a bad habit that she tried to break over and over again, but no matter how hard she tried, she would still find herself biting them.

"You are still doing that nasty habit of yours! You are worse than the slaves!" Ayla could still hear her father's angry voice. "Galian, come here! This useless, nasty girl needs another punishment!" King Amul, her father said, looking at her older brother.

Galian would always be happy to help her father punish her. Galian was as cruel as her father had been. And her brother would always bring his favorite crop.

"Strech your hands. If you close your fingers, you know what will happen," her father said.

Ayla would do as instructed and stretch her arms. She would shake with fear, but she would always refuse to scream. While Galian hit her fringers with the crop, Ayla would repeat, in her mind, the names of herbs and their properties and what they are good for. When a scream threatened to escape her lips, Ayla would bite her tongue.

When her father was satisfied with the punishment, he would tell Galian to stop.

"Who will ever marry someone with such nasty habits? When you are old enough, I will have to bribe someone to marry you!"

Ayla never cried in front of her father. She already knew how much he despised weeping women.

"Go to Saturas to have those fingers fixed! I don't want you to become crippled and have the other Kingdoms laugh behind my back because of you!"

So Ayla would rush to Saturas to get treatment.

"What did you do this time?" Saturas, the Water Mage from the castle, would ask with an accusatory tone. "Biting your nails again? It is a habit not fit for a Princess."

No one ever understood her, so Ayla didn't bother to explain why she would often bite her nails. Everyone commented and pointed her out. Well, everyone except Drax – her childhood friend. Saturas' novice. They became friends because both understood what pain and humiliation meant.

When Drax turned thirteen, he became the only one to treat Ayla.

In time, the punishments became less frequent because the war occupied all of her father's time. Instead, she became a prisoner of her room. She didn't mind it so much, but she did miss Drax when too much time passed without seeing him.

Sometimes Drax would climb the wall that separated her garden and her room from the rest of the world. He would tell her about the war and rumors about King Rhobart. Drax would tell Ayla how people claimed that the King from Nordmar was soulless, cruel, and a monster. Others claimed that he worshiped Beliar, and that's why no one could ever wound him. Other rumors talked about Orcs and dragons and other creatures of Beliar that came into the night and aided Rhobart. And other rumors talked about Rhobart bathing in the blood of his enemies and eating their flesh.

She didn't know if any of these rumors were to be true. And frankly, she didn't want to think about it when she was about to serve his dinner.

A knock on the door snapped Ayla out of her thoughts.

"Come in!" she said, and to her relief, Milton stepped inside.

"Look at you! The last time I saw you, you were a caterpillar, and now you have transformed into a butterfly!"

Ayla blushed, not being used with compliments. She managed to say a 'thank you' in a shy voice.

"Ready?" Milton asked.

"To serve the King of Nordmar? Sure!"

Milton laughed, "You are a guest here, not a servant."

"So I am free to go when I want?" Ayla asked, hoping for just one second.

Milton stopped laughing and said seriously, "That's not for me to say."

Ayla didn't know why she felt disappointed. She already knew the truth, but for just one damn second, she had hoped to be free. To leave Nordmar and to travel around the continent. She would use her knowledge about plants and herbs to gain money while she traveled. And when Ayla visited each kingdom sh,e would move on to the Southern Islands and beyond – to other continents. When she would grow old, she would settle in a small hut, and tend to a garden, and sell remedies.

But dreams and hope were not for someone like her.

"Let me grab my boots, and we can leave," Ayla said.

Once she had the boots on, Milton escorted her out of the room. It was the first time she saw the interior of the castle. She looked around the hallway expecting to see the signs of opulence and luxury. Instead, the furniture and decoration, although simple, made the space inviting and soothing. Glowing crystals illuminated the hallways.

But what shocked her the most was that the castle was warm. Even with her boots on, Ayla could feel that the floor was warm.

"How come it is so warm?" Ayla asked while she and Milton headed to the dining hall.

"Magic-filled-crystals. They are part of the foundation of the castle. Once a year, twenty mages from the Monastery come down to fill them."

Ayla started to think that Nordmar relied a lot on the magic of the Fire Mages.

While Milton and Ayla walked towards the dining hall, she tried to memorize the halls and stairs they used.

When they stopped before two big doors, and two guards opened them, Ayla touched her amulet before entering.