"You aren't doing it right," Aislynn pouted, reaching out to grasp my hand in her own. "Hold your palms up. Like this. And don't let me slap them. You must pull away at the last moment. That's the game."

I smiled slyly at her and waited for her to pull back. At the last second, I jerked my hands away and her blow landed upon her own knee which was, coincidentally, bumping soundly against mine in this rattling carriage. She hissed in pain and then looked up to find me smirking mischievously and we both burst into a fit of giggles. Our elder brother, Alder, sighed at that, rolling his all knowing eleven year old boy eyes as he turned to our mother.

"Mother," he tried in exasperation. "How much more of these childish games shall I endure?"

"Your sisters are merely entertaining themselves," our mother responded. "I suggest you do the same, Alder. Sulking does not become you."

He had been sulking. I wasn't sure why. I thought perhaps it had something to do with the Princess of Vyndoli. I had heard mother and father speaking of it as they packed for this very journey. Father had claimed that our country of Etzera had desperate need of an alliance with our neighbors of Vyndoli and, hours later, we had all been shoved aboard this wagon and sent in the direction of the southern country. Mother seemed to be preparing Alder for something, doting on him less than usual, giving him remonstrations on how to behave and how to be strong. Aislynn and I had noticed it immediately and, as we were born together and therefore of one mind, we reasoned it out quickly enough. Our brother was to be offered for the princess in exchange for Vyndoli's support. As an eight year old girl, I did not know much of the world. But as a princess, I knew of my own part in it. And I was more acutely aware of possible betrothals than anything else.

Suddenly, my father held a fist in the air out the window of the carriage and the whole procession was stopping. Aislynn's knees bumped hard against my own as she slid forward at the sudden halt. I gritted my teeth and rubbed the sore skin but followed after my parents and siblings who led the way out of the confined space of the wagon. Outside, the air was crisp and I filled my lungs as I looked around. We were on a trail midway through the forest. I gazed at the treeline, itching to explore.

"Mother," I heard the pleading in my sister's voice as we turned our wide eyes to the Queen. "Can we play? Please?"

Our mother cast her eyes around briefly as if checking for obvious threats. Soothed by the dozen soldiers our father had brought south with us, she smiled. "Very well. But do not stray too far. We won't be stopped for long."

We squealed with delight and ran off for the trees, giggling the whole way. It was only when we reached the edge of the woods that Aislynn realized she had left her doll in the carriage. I knew her well enough to know that she would be a frightened wreck without it and, because I was always the faster runner between us, I offered to retrieve it for her. So off I went, back to the wagon to fetch the doll. The moment my small fist closed around it's leg, however, I heard my parents' hushed tones and froze.

"Are you sure this will work?" my mother was asking.

"No," My father answered honestly. "I hear King Preston adores his daughter more than anything. It is possible that he is the type of fool who refuses to promise his precious little girl to anyone, even my heir. But he has a son as well. And we have two daughters."

"The twins? Averill, you cannot separate them. Bishop Harlow says it is unwise to separate twins. Especially at such a young age. It turns them bitter."

"We all must do our duty for our country, Arantxa. If it comes to it, the girls will do theirs."

I snatched the doll and sprinted back to the forest. I found Aislynn already quite a ways into the trees, bent over a patch of beautiful yellow flowers, the long Auburn hair we shared falling in waves over her shoulder. I handed her the doll and she thanked me but then, because of the bond that we shared, asked. "What's wrong?"

"I overheard mother and father talking," I told her. "If the princess refuses Alder, you and I are to be offered to the prince."

"Both of us?" she gasped. We walked on together deeper into the forest.

"No. I imagine he will have his choice. Or father will."

"But the princess will not reject Alder. He is the heir. And the best offer she could hope for," My sister was always the more rational of the two of us, the more logical. It disposed her well to the political discourse and diplomacy which I so easily tired of. "I wonder why this alliance is so important to father."

"Perhaps we would know," I started sourly. "If he ever allowed us in council."

"Why should he?" Alder's voice spoke from behind me. I whirled to find my older brother standing on the ridge behind us. He was frowning, as he had the entire journey thus far, and he took a step toward us as he continued. "You're just children. Why should you be invited to council?"

"You're a child and you are," I whined, watching his jaw tense in anger. Fury flashed in his eyes as he took a series of steps bringing him much closer to us.

"It is a part of my education. As his heir. I am to be King!" As he spoke, his voice grew louder until, at his last sentence, the volume was enough to scare the birds away from their perches in the trees above us.

"Alder, please-" Aislynn tried.

"You are just girls," He spat. "Just women with royal blood to be married off to whomever father wishes."

"I will not!" I shouted back at him, stamping my feet in defiance.

"You will," Alder rounded on me, stepping forward and leaning into my face. "You will do as your King commands. Be it father or myself. And I will not tolerate-"

His eyes suddenly widened. I heard the gurgling noise first, then Aislynn's scream. He coughed and his blood spattered my face. I gasped as he sank to the ground. I stared at him for a moment, mind trying to understand what had happened. I knelt down and turned him. His open eyes stared up at me but they did not see. He was sputtering still, choking on his own blood, the blood gushing from his open mouth. I saw the arrow then, protruding through the center of his throat.

"Alder," I said his name helplessly, shaking him as if in my childish mind I believed that might revive him. "Alder, no. Please. No."

"We have to run, Adelaide," Aislynn spoke. I could hear her but it was as if she were calling to me from a distance though I knew that she was right behind me. I turned to look at her but she was not looking at me. Or at Alder. Her wide eyes were focused on the trees. I heard the rustling then. "Now, Adelaide, we have to go now."

I looked down at our brother, still sputtering. "I can't. I-"

"He is lost, Adelaide," She grasped my shoulders, turned me to face her, and shook me. "We must go or we will be lost too."

I turned to look at him again as the sputtering ceased and he lay still.

"Run!"

I obeyed her command or, at least, my feet did. Almost involuntarily, I launched myself forward, slippered soles slapping against the soft dirt as I plunged ahead toward the road, toward my parents and the armed guards and all the protection I had ever known. I reached Aislynn easily and slowed so that we could stay together. She was clumsy in her dress but would not drop her doll to hold her skirts as I was. We were calling to one another, keeping track as we ran. They were following us. I never once saw them but I knew they were.

Suddenly, Aislynn let out a scream and I turned, heart pumping madly, to see her sprawled across the forest floor. I reached out to grab her hand and pulled but she did not budge.

"My foot!" She cried. "Adelaide, it's my foot! It's stuck!"

I ran around behind her to find that she had stepped into a hole overgrown with brambles. She was bleeding and her ankle was bent in an unnatural way. Hands shaking, my fingers worked against the thicket, pulling in an attempt to extricate her. I only succeeded in scraping her leg against the thorns and she hissed in pain.

"Adelaide," She said my name but I was focused on my task and she had to repeat herself. "Adelaide."

My eyes snapped to hers.

"You have to go," She told me. I felt the tears stinging my eyes as I shook my head and returned to my work against the brambles. But they were too strong. "Listen to me. You have to warn father. You have to. Before it's too late."

"No," I shook my head, defiant. "No, Aislynn. I will not leave you. I cannot leave you. If I could just find something to cut-"

"Adelaide," She leaned forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me down to face her. "You have to go. You have to warn father."

We heard a rustling in the trees behind us, footsteps and low voices. Her green eyes bore into mine with a wordless pleading that I felt in my very soul.

"Now, Adelaide! Go now!"

Though it broke me to do so, I ran from her, tears blurring my vision in my haste to obey her. I heard the scream only a minute later. I felt the moment my sister's soul departed this earth. Like a tear in my own heart. Like a wound that would never heal. And I knew that I would never be whole again. Not ever.

Determined to follow through with my sister's final request and because, in my terrified, frenzied state I knew of nothing else, I sprinted for the road as hard as I could. Relief flooded me at the sight of the treeline but it vanished just as quickly as I skidded to a halt in the afternoon sun and my eyes took in the sight before me.

There were men, a dozen of them, who I did not know, who wore armor of leather and not mail, who spoke in thick accents and another language. I recognized a few words of it. I had begun my training of Rirdantan when I was only five years old. But they were talking too fast and I could not focus on their words anyway because my attention was on the bodies at their feet.

My father lay face up, his crown in the dirt a few feet away, his throat slit from ear to ear, his blood drenching the grass around him, turning it crimson. My mother was face down a few yards away, an axe protruding from her back. She had tried to run. For the trees. For us. My heart shattered for the third time in an hour and a sob escaped me before I could stop it.

I heard the rustling then. Coming from behind me once more. They were coming. But more of them lay ahead. I could not go back. I could not keep running. I reached out to steady myself and found a tall oak at my side. Glancing back at the dozen men on the road, I began to climb, as quickly as I could. I could hear my pursuers drawing closer. They emerged from the trees as soon as I slid myself onto a thick, leafy branch. I was concealed here. They could not see me. Still, my heart pounded in my chest as I looked down at them. Only five and their leader, a woman barely out of her teenage years.

"Lena," the leader of the group on the road called out to her from where he stood beside my father's body. He stepped toward her, his long blonde hair swaying in the afternoon breeze. "Did you kill the runts?"

"All but one," she answered, accent thick. "One of the girls escaped."

Hands shaking, I placed them over my mouth to muffle my whimpering. Tears were flowing freely down my cheeks but I knew I must weep in silence.

"The boy?" The man asked.

"He's dead," Lena answered. I stared at her, memorizing her face, the way she scowled, her dark blonde hair tied up in an intricate braid, the golden hilted knife at her waist, her piercing black eyes.

"Good. That is what matters. We should be going now. Men come quicker for a disappeared King."

The woman nodded and her group joined the others on the road. They mounted the horses they had hidden nearby and galloped off toward the south. I watched them go, straining to listen until I could no longer hear the hoofbeats. Then I cast my eyes downward. From my position in the tree and my father's on his back, it was almost as if he was watching me. Finally, I came apart.

I wept openly, body wracking with my sobs, trembling hands wiping away my flowing tears. I cried until I no longer could, until it was dark. Still, I did not come down from the tree. I couldn't. Fear and exhaustion kept me rooted there. Spent from my grief and exhausted from my terror, I felt my eyes threatening to close despite my best efforts. I untied the belt of rope around my waist, the one I always had to wear because my mother bought Aislynn and I the same clothes even though my sister was plumper around the middle. I looped it around my waist and the tree trunk behind me to secure my place in the branches. Then I leaned against the trunk and, still weeping, fell into a restless sleep.