Granted (Granted Series Book 1) Read online

  Granted

  Kendra Thomas

  Copyright © 2020 by Kendra Thomas

  All rights reserved. No part of this book is to be used or reproduced, or transmitted by any means electronically, mechanically, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-7350153-1-6

  Created with Vellum

  For Cade

  My best friend and eternal partner

  ONE

  I could hear him calling my name. The sun was setting, a glowing premonition that my time had come to an end. I flicked the torn edge of my blanket and eyed the cracks in the tired wood above my head. I could smell the scent of dead leaves on the breeze as it whispered, “Go back”—it seemed to say—“you can’t hide.” But I could try.

  “Little Bear!”

  I let out a sigh and entertained the idea of sitting still, waiting to see if he’d find me. I knew that would be childish though, considering he was bound to climb the ladder and search inside. I didn’t want to admit I was too afraid to actually run away.

  Evading my nestled space of vain solitude, I grabbed my blanket, stuffed it into my satchel, and began climbing down. The ancient slats, weathered by rain, creaked beneath my toes.

  “Bear, is that you?”

  My noisy descent from the treehouse was discovered as Oli stumbled from a patch of spruce boughs. The worry on his face paired admirably with the wild tangle of leaves that clung to his clothes and hair.

  “Can’t a girl get some peace and quiet around here?” It was cruel; I felt sorry the minute the words left my lips.

  “I have been looking everywhere for you.” Oli’s sharp tone didn’t match the soft golden curls that framed his face, neither the peridot eyes that glared at me.

  “I hope you haven’t been looking long.” The sarcasm dripped from my lips.

  “There's been a riot in Asmede,” he explained, and I feigned a look of complete boredom.

  “I’m sure Jasper has it under control.”

  I could imagine my older, more refined sister, taking care of the situation. She had a way of speaking to the Stone-Hearted people with firmness and undeniable elegance. It was a gift I could never imitate.

  “You’re filthy,” he snapped angrily. He grabbed the corner of his cloak and began trying to wipe the grime from my face. I could feel the dirt that had accumulated over the last two days, heavily dusting my pale cheeks. I wrinkled my forehead at the unnecessarily rough hand he was using.

  “Did you ever think that maybe I didn’t want to be found?”

  Oli stopped his incessant scrubbing.

  “That’s exactly why I had to come and find you.” He took me by the hand, binding my wrist as if I were his prisoner, and began dragging me back the way he’d come.

  “Oli, I’m not going to the gala.”

  His grip tightened. I knew he didn’t want to talk about it, but that was the reason we had ended up here, wasn’t it?

  “You don’t have a choice Sabeara. You’re the princess of Aveladon.” That’s what he always said to me, like it was supposed to mean something.

  “Just because you’re my guardian doesn't mean you can tell me what to do.” I dug my toes into the dirt and pulled back without the intention of budging. He let go and turned on me with obvious impatience.

  “This is the first gala the kingdom has had in many years, and it’s your sister’s Granting. Can’t you act excited?” His eyes desperately searched my face for the answers to my defiance and my reluctance, all for the efforts to be disregarded.

  I listened to the faint trickling of a stream that wasn’t far from the path and the harmonic chirping of the birds in the barren branches. I wanted to stay here. This was my solitude.

  “Was anyone hurt?” I ignored his question and decided discussing the task at hand was easier. The urgency to fight that usually dwelled within me had been exhausted. Sleep deprivation was beginning to take its toll, and it was bringing on a complementary headache.

  The relief on his face that I’d given up was apparent, and he led me to his steed Sovereign who was waiting for us off the forest path. The white stallion was waiting patiently, his pointed ears alert. With a helping hand I mounted his back. Oli's arms were slightly more relaxed as he reached for the reins and settled into the saddle behind me.

  “Everyone’s fine, but Jasper thought it best to call in a meeting.”

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  I was usually summoned into these meetings for the stealing of town crops and obtuse injustices that should have never materialized.

  “A curse.”

  ASMEDE WAS the most populated city, known for being the heart of Aveladon. The buildings were tall and situated close together. Bridges interlocked the cramped buildings, like graceful tree branches, connecting each timeworn house to the next. A clock tower nearly penetrating the clouds stood in the center of the city, the day’s market assembled beneath it. Tents held many vendors selling all types of harvest, while red flags waved a loyal greeting from the balconies as we passed.

  The buzz of noisy chatter pulsated against my ears, a refreshing contrast to the still silence of the forest. The flutter of confrontation and passionate argumentation swirled around us as we weaved through the crowd. Oli maneuvered Sovereign carefully through, unable to elude shoulders and red cloaks that brushed up against our legs. The people made way for a delusive path, directing their stares toward us, the attention from their fanatical expressions burning into my skin.

  Oli helped me down from Sovereign upon arrival at the clock tower. Jasper was already seated, with several councilmen beside her on the platform. She looked immaculate, alluring, like a future queen should. Her hands were clasped delicately in her lap, and her long blonde hair was curled to perfection around her nimble shoulders. Yet, I could see through her stunning pretense, the worrisome look in her eyes.

  In her right hand, she was fiddling with her coin. Back and forth she rolled the currency almost hypnotically in her lap. It had become a habit as a result of her anxiety. The twinkle was so faint, it could’ve been mistaken for a splinter of reflected sun.

  Despising its grandeur, I took a seat in one of the rather impractical cushioned chairs provided for us at town meetings. As if a normal chair didn’t suffice for my delicate behind.

  “A riot, about a curse?” I whispered to Jasper, as one councilman stood up to the pulpit.

  “It is as ridiculous as it sounds,” Jasper confirmed as she turned to look at me. Her thoughtful expression quickly turned to reprehension. “Should I ignore the fact you’ve been gone for two days and that the entire castle has been out looking for you?”

  I winced at her words, not failing to notice the way she was looking at my now wrinkled and dirtied day dress. I should’ve felt more ashamed, exposed in front of all these townspeople. I was propped up on a pedestal for everyone to view with their judgmental expressions, but it did little to faze me.

  “Yes, please.” My voice held a desperate plea. Jasper’s attention returned to the crowd, and I was grateful for her gift of ignorance. “You weren’t worried were you?”

  Jasper’s lip twitched slightly in amusement. “Of course not,” she replied easily, and I tried not to be wounded.

  “Not even for a second?”

  “If I worried every time you did something irrational, Little Bear, then I’d already be twice my age and have a head of gray hairs.”

  One councilman stood from his chair and approached the pulpit. Jasper and I stopped our whisperings, turning our attention to the speaker.

  “We will begin with remarks from the citizens. One at a time please!”

&nbs
p; I realized after a moment that I knew the councilman. His name was Tassadar. He was seen at the castle often and at meetings like this. It wasn’t uncommon to have an encounter. He was a rather arrogant man, who didn’t bother to hide the fact he was plotting for the king's position. Since my father's deliberate isolation, the councilmen had become the face of society, ruling in my father's place. Tassadar often overstepped his worth, and because there was no one of higher status to reprimand his obnoxious efforts, he remained in his narcissism, an inadequate member of the council, pretending to be king.

  He had orange hair, reminding me of a fiery flame, and was known for his ability to read minds. He seemed bored that day, selecting agitated Stone-Hearted civilians to speak their minds. After all, he already knew what they were thinking.

  “The crops are dying all across the land; it is a sign of our sins!” one woman yelled from the crowd. She had a child hooked to her waist, a little girl with bright rosy-red cheeks. The child clung to her mother, seemingly scared of the commotion.

  “There have been Obscurum soldiers stealing our possessions!” another man cried from the congregation. The people around him murmured their agreements, aiding one another's angry claims.

  “It’s because of the separation. The Ethirical speaks of it!”

  This severance from Aveladon had begun nearly fifty years ago. First to emerge was Obscurum the east kingdom, and then Severesi of the north. Finally, Ethydon was brought up in the west. Now there were four kingdoms in Greater Aveladon.

  “All right, let’s calm down!” Another councilman stood from his chair, raising his hand for silence. “We cannot assume that because the crops are failing, and because our neighboring kingdoms are not always in perfect conduct, that a curse is going to transpire against the kingdom.”

  Jasper rose from her chair, walking toward the councilmen, and gestured for them to take their seats. Somehow her presence constituted a greater silence.

  “The councilmen are right. Whatever religious belief or conception from ancient books that are driving this city to these eager suspicions, they cannot send our people into fear.” Her words were soft yet penetrating. “We cannot give in to speculation. Instead, we must have conviction. Do not forget our kingdom’s power. We must stand for loyalty, courage, and strength.”

  It was like the worry was vanquished. Her speech had brought a sense of relief to everyone listening. Applause resonated from the crowd and it seemed as if Jasper had once again, calmed the wild seas —while I stood by for support.

  “I’ll see you at home?” Jasper asked, a hint of motherly imposition in her voice. The crowd was dispersing, and the citizens diffused back to their conventional tasks.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”

  She gave me the faintest of smiles that immediately revealed her obvious distrust.

  “Thank you for your help,” she said, while descending the steps. With the council not far behind, she and the rest of them ebbed into the clamoring congregation and were swallowed into the crimson masses.

  “Yeah, what would you do without me?” I called after her. But she didn’t hear me, as my sarcastic remark was lost among the humming crowd.

  THE CASTLE CAME into view as we ascended from the city. It jutted out from the mountains, precisely carved to fit in the slate gray rocks centered on a high peak. It sparkled with thousands of lights within the translucent walls, causing it to gleam. Its architecture and pointed spires were stunning from far away and even more breathtaking when up close. The gates were open when we arrived, and two sentries nodded to us as we entered.

  I noticed immediately how warm it was when we stepped into the foyer. After two days of restless sleep on hardwood and only the warmth of my thin throw, it was a relief to be home. I had several precious seconds to enjoy the warmth before my father entered the room.

  “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” His footsteps echoed off the vast ceilings, while his voice chimed like sharp shingles of broken glass against the marble floors. I couldn’t help the goosebumps that erupted down my spine.

  “I’m surprised you noticed I was gone.” Apprehension made me bite with sarcasm. I knew it was a toxic response to my temper. But I liked the way it tasted on my tongue.

  “You don’t get to speak to me that way Sabeara Aigoviel. You have been gone from this castle for two days. You could’ve been killed!”

  I hadn’t looked at him yet. Instead, I walked over to the hearth where a roaring fire was licking away at several pieces of freshly cut wood. The flame caused the room to have a comforting glow, that in their situation somehow seemed sinister.

  “I could’ve, but I thought I’d stick around to inconvenience you a little longer.”

  “Your Highness, I think it would be best to resume this tomorrow and let Sabeara get some sleep.” I could feel Oli's hand at the small of my back, indicating it was time to go. I dared to take a glance at my father, hoping Oli’s soothing mechanisms would appease him.

  He stood several feet away, his figure tall and lean. He was dressed in evening clothes, and his red cloak seemed to swallow up the floor behind him. Beneath the silk tunic he wore, I could see the silvery glow of his heart—the illuminating divination of his power. His dark violet eyes were filled with rage, and his hands were in fists at his sides, his crown shimmering in the vermillion light.

  I could feel the waves of his anger. I could see it all around the room—in the chairs that he hovered slightly above the floor, in the flower vase he balanced finger breadths from the tea-table. The swords on the walls were quivering and the ornate decorations around the room rattled.

  “We will continue this tomorrow,” my father said. All the objects in the room went suddenly still. “Olivine, she better be alive and present in this castle when I wake up.”

  I could feel Oli nod beside me obediently. “Of course, King Casimir. I am sorry you’ve had to worry.”

  From the corner of my eye, I watched my father leave the room. I waited, fixed in my swell of anger, until his footsteps could no longer be heard. Frustrated and extremely agitated, I stomped toward the stairs, heading to the only place I could escape. My bedroom.

  “You're not being fair to him,” Oli said to me as we entered my chambers. I was determined to ignore his deliberate lecturing and tossed my satchel onto my vanity, provoking my hairbrush to teeter to the floor.

  My room was in the south wing, with floor to ceiling windows— the darkening sky achingly clear through the glass. The walls and furniture were covered in tapestries of cerulean blue and expensive furs. My bed resembled more of a throne than a place of rest, with its handcrafted wood frame nearly reaching the gold plated ceiling.

  I treaded into my closet. I couldn’t undo the back without assistance, and all the dressing maids were asleep. I waited patiently until I felt Oli’s fingers begin tugging at the strings along my back.

  It wasn’t a traditional custom—the casual relationship Oli and I had. Usually a personal guardian would never be allowed to informally converse with the princess they were sworn to guard—let alone interact so intimately. But the gossip was nonexistent now. The relationship a commonality for everyone watching. We were best friends, and nothing would ever change that.

  While he untied, I stared at myself in the mirror. I could see the dust, brushing the intimate crevices of my skin. My brown hair was loose and tangled, hanging down my back in mussed curls. A wind bitten blush filled my cheeks, matching the pale red of my lips. And my eyes were a dull faded blue. Everything about my reflection screamed ordinary.

  “It’s been ten years, and he has barely stepped from his room,” I huffed angrily.

  The tightly bound corset I’d been cramped into loosened and I was set free. Oli helped me detangle myself from the layers of lace and perpetual silk.

  “Can you blame him?”

  I knew Oli was alluding to my mother’s death, and an immediate sadness filled me at the thought of her.

  “I try not to,
but after what he’s done to Aveladon, and his isolation, how can I not?” I turned around, not caring that I was only in my undergarments. Oli’s eyes stayed calmly on my face as he handed me a fresh nightgown from one of the shelves.

  “Try to understand what drastic measures you’d be impelled to do after losing the love of your life.” His tone indicated I should be more sympathetic.

  Pulling on the nightgown and draping a blanket around my shoulders, I stepped out onto my veranda—welcoming the cold wind as it washed over me like an icy wave.

  “I’ve been locked away, Olivine, in this castle, barely seeing another person unless at some town meeting, where no one even notices I exist. And now, he decides that the entire Stone-Hearted royal society should come to meet his princesses and celebrate his eldest daughters Granting?” I was beginning to feel the fury now, warming up my fragile skin to a tone of angry pink.

  “He doesn’t get to pretend that ten years haven’t passed by. He doesn’t get to play king, when he’s been nothing but a disintegrating recluse for most of my life!” My hand slammed down on the marble railing of the balcony, stinging my fingertips with a tingling pain. Oli quickly reached out to halt my wild tendencies, keeping me from lashing out at any other solid object.

  “I understand you are angry, but your sister is gaining her power. Will you please try to be happy, for Jasper?”

  I sighed and looked out at the kingdom, my eyes catching the effulgent light from the top of the Glamasede Mountain. It was the Spirit Tree, shining in its vivid splendor of color. The Spirit Tree was special, in that it held all unborn and dead spirits in its timbered frame. Its branches glowed six different shades, all representing the levels of power the Stone-Hearted people had the potential to gain: red, green, blue, violet, silver, and gold. Each color represented a parallel of power, red being the weakest and gold the strongest.

  I turned around with a preoccupied expression. Oli seemed to tell something was on my mind and he eyed me suspiciously.