Chapter 6: My Mate's Enemy

LAYLA

I fell.

Not a graceful fall, not even the dramatic kind where you spin mid-air and land like a tragic heroine. Nope. I shut my eyes, fully expecting to be buried seven feet deep and instead crashed into a heap of straw. Which was honestly just as bad, because within two seconds, it was everywhere. Inside my clothes, in my puffy hair, poking into places straw has no business being. My body ached like hell, and the tiny pricks all over my skin made me itch furiously.

Somewhere beside me, a horse neighed like it was offended to witness my existence.

I stared at a pair of boots. Then I looked up straight into a pair of pale, ashy eyes filled with disgust and frustration.

“Get this elephant out of here,” the cold, icy voice said.

“Excuse me?” I tried pushing myself up. “Who exactly did you call an elephant—”

I slipped on the mud again and fell right back on my butt. Perfect. Just perfect.

“Zed,” the rude man said, not even looking at me. “Do you see any other elephants here?”

“No, sir.”

He pointed at me. “Exactly. Her.”

“How rude,” I snapped. “Do you even know how to talk to a girl?”

He blinked at me, slowly, like I was an alien creature. “You are one?”

I hated how he looked me over. I had a mud-smeared face, dirty clothes and hair full of straw. Okay, yes, I looked like a swamp demon. But still. I was technically a girl. Maybe not a beautiful one, but one nonetheless. It offended me that he did not treat me like one. 

Why on earth am I so vain? 

“Sir, we need to leave,” another man said from behind him. He wore a full Black robe, and his face was shadowed. He had a tense voice. “We must be quick.”

“Interrogate her. See if she heard anything.”

The rude one stepped back into the shadows deliberately while trying to hide his identity. Perfect. I had clearly fallen into something confidential. Of course. Trouble never walked to me; it flew me in the air and then threw me on it. 

They questioned me for an hour while my body screamed in pain. Only when they were convinced I had heard nothing, seen nothing, and stolen nothing did they let me stand.

“Get out of here, little elephant,” the rude bastard said.

“Sure, prick,” I muttered.

One of his men drew his sword like he wanted to slice my head off. I backed away fast. I really needed to learn how to shut my mouth before it killed me.

But the rude man laughed quietly. “Let her go. She is stupid and impulsive. She will get herself killed without our help. If she does speak of what she shouldn’t, she won’t survive anyway. Let her make her own choices.”

How Lovely.

As I hurried away, a group of men in black robes rode in. They were soldiers, I could tell from their special boots. But whose soldiers? The King’s? A noble House’s? Some private militia planning a revolt?

I shut my eyes. The less I saw, the better. That was my personal survival philosophy.

A scream ripped through the air behind me, followed by muffled whimpers. I pretended I heard nothing. It was too unsafe for me to hear something wrong. 

By the time I reached the servant packhouse, Daisy was running toward me, panic visible on her face.

“Layla!” she yelled. “Thank the Goddess, you are okay. I thought something happened to you! Worse, I thought you died! If you had died, Prince Lucian would have killed me!”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not that valuable.”

“You are to me,” Daisy said softly, eyes shiny.

I softened. “Yes, yes, how could I forget?”

I pinched her chin playfully. “You are my dear Daisy.”

She blushed. “You are too much, Layla. You are uncouth and shameless like a man.”

“Daisy, promise me you will never mention it again,” I said quietly while looking around. “What happened earlier…. We pretend it never happened. Magic is forbidden in Lunaris. The King executed witches and anyone with magic. If they find out even a half-elf can use it… they will kill you. Don’t ever do it again.”

She nodded, terrified. “I won’t. Never again.”

We were almost at the packhouse when I heard cavalry thundering down the street again. This time, unmistakably the King’s army.

“There has been an assassination!” someone shouted. “The King’s minister is dead!”

Daisy and I froze, clutching each other. The capital erupted into chaos.

“Who was near the stables?” someone yelled. “Who was there?”

I was.

My throat tightened.

“It was Raymond Blackwood, from House Blackwood,” another voice said. “The last minister from that House.”

Daisy whispered, “Prince Lucian’s mother was a Blackwood. The House declined after King Vance took the Moon Throne and raised House Ashbourne, which is the Queen’s family. Someone is targeting the Prince, it seems.”

Pale ashy eyes flashed in my mind.

Was he my mate’s enemy?