Chapter 2

Chapter Two

            “That’s not possible.” Bram snarled, slamming his hand down on the delicate looking table beside of the door.   

            Aldan seemed to ignore the outburst as he studied her face, “You mean you can wield two elements?”

            Before she could answer, Bram spoke again, “If that’s true then why weren’t you brought forward as a Candidate from your village before?”

            “I was too young the last time a Queen was chosen, and I am twenty now.” That made Marlow the oldest Queen to ever be chosen.

            “Child, we’ve never had a Queen that could use more than one element. It is an incredible gift. How much can you use them?” The High Priest inquired.

            “I have the most control over water,” Marlow explained, twisting her hands in her lap, “but I can use fire to do small things.”

            The answer seemed to please Aldan, who stroked his grey beard thoughtfully, “That’s good, milady, even though your abilities are minimal, your talents in each element can be trained, honed, so that you have complete mastery over them both.”

            In the corner, Bram seethed, his dark eyes glowering at Marlow. Whatever the Grand Prince had been planning was obviously in serious jeopardy now that this girl from Pine Brook had been chosen as Queen. There was no doubt in Marlow’s mind that Bram would be nothing but trouble for her.

            “I am sure you’re overwhelmed,” Aldan’s voice broke the growing tension in the room, “so I’ll have the servants show you to your quarters. You and I will talk more tomorrow about your training.” The High Priest patted one of Marlow’s hands kindly, his blue eyes shining at her, and making her feel that she had gained at least one ally.

 

~~~

The wall shook beneath the force of his fist as Bram rammed his knuckles against the stone wall. How could this have happened? Everything had been going as planned. Rose should have been picked as the next Queen, and then, once she was impregnated with his child, he would have declared himself the supreme ruler of Anariel. Now some farming wench was going to be crowned as Queen. If that were the least of Bram’s problems he wouldn’t have crushed his fist against the wall.

Learning that the new “Queen” had powers over all four elements was a startling discovery. Bram remembered all of the Queens that had been through the palace when he was a child and never had one been able to work with all four elements. Where had this farm girl come from? Why had his scouts never picked her out before? Normally when a female was considered “too” in tune with the elements he had his soldiers dispose of her quickly and quietly before anyone became the wiser.

He gripped the washbasin in his room with bloodied hands as he stared into the mirror, looking back into the black depths of his own eyes. He remembered only one time before when he had stood before his mirror in such a way. It had been nearly twenty years ago….

The courier that had run to where Bram was working behind the plow had been a freckled face youth, his cheeks red and his eyes glassy from physical exertion. Bram couldn’t imagine why anyone would be sending him a message. He was nothing but a farmer of no consequence.

“They told me to run to get you. It is your mother. You had better come quick!”

Bram raced behind the boy, over taking him with his longer strides as he slid to a stop in the kitchens, “Where is she?”

The young scullery maid wrung her hands, “In here.”

He followed her into the back room there where a figure lay on a rickety cot. “Mother.” He dropped to his knees beside of her.

Bramsella’s eyes opened, a sigh of relief escaped her as she reached a hand out toward Bram, “You came.”

“Of course I came.” Bram enfolded the woman’s frail hands between his own, “What’s happened? Are you ill?”

“More than that. I’m dying.” A rattling cough followed.

Bram’s eyebrows crashed together, “What are you talking about? You have never been sick a day in your life.”

“They know, Bram. They know.” The woman’s hair seemed to be fading from gray to white before his very eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“The Priests know that you are the child of a Queen.” Worry was present in the woman’s dimming eyes.

Bram shook his head, “So what? The Queen that birthed me is long gone and dead, you told me that yourself.”

“But I never told you about your father.”

This caught Bram’s full attention, and he found himself squeezing the old woman’s hand more tightly than he had intended, “What about my father? Who is he?”

“A Warlord from the North. He yet lives.“ Bramsella’s breath was labored, creating a thick gurgle in the back of her mouth.

Bram squeezed her hand more, “How did they find out?”

Bramsella’s lips moved, in vain, as no sound came out.

“Tell me!” He squeezed her hand tighter, the fragile bones feeling like twigs that could easily be snapped.

“They gave her this milord.” The scullery maid held out a small, blue vial.

Bram took the bottle, staring down at the poison for a long moment before looking back up at the woman that had raised him. She wasn’t his real mother, nor even a spectacular woman, but she had clothed him and fed him, which was far more than anyone else had done.

Her eyes slowly slid to his, and he loosened his grip on her hand as he pressed his lips to the back of her knuckles, “Thank you…. Mother.”

The scene faded from memory as reality swam back into view. He would not let this new little Queen take from him what he had worked so hard to gain. He would not stop until all of Anariel was cowed beneath the weight of his wrath.

 

~~~

            “I’ll draw your bath, Your Grace.”    

            Marlow barely even noticed as the maid disappeared to do just that. The brunette stood in the center of a large bedroom, which was dwarfed by a four-poster canopy bed that was covered in silks, and fat, fluffy pillows that looked heavenly. An exquisite wardrobe, filled with new clothing, stood at the far wall, and beside of it two glass doors opened out onto a large, balcony that over looked the kingdom. The little shack that Marlow and her father had lived in could fit comfortably in the space with room to spare. Through an attached doorway, Marlow could make out another sitting room, where she supposed she would entertain guests. Although she had no idea who would be visiting her, a farm girl with only one living relative.

            “I’ll come back when you’re finished ma’am and help you get dressed.” The blonde maid said, breaking Marlow’s trance.

            “Dressed for what?” Marlow’s eyebrow arched questioningly.

            “The celebration, my lady. The whole palace will turn out to the feast tonight to congratulate you.”

            Marlow found herself chewing on her lower lip as she thought about the prospect of parading around in front of people that she didn’t know. She had been raised a farm girl, and hadn’t the slightest clue as to what the etiquette of the Queen was expected to be. What if she tried to curtsey and fell on her face?

            “Thank you.” Marlow murmured to the maid, too shell-shocked to even ask about her father and what had happened to him.

            For a moment the new Queen simply stood in the middle of the enormous, lush room trying to absorb everything that had happened to her. She thought of her patchwork quilt lying on her lumpy bed back at the shack. Quite different from the beautiful woven tapestries on the walls of her new quarters, and the fine silk of the bed sheets. There was no doubt in Marlow’s mind that the one bedroom shack she shared with her father could fit easily inside the Queen’s room.

            Walking into the adjoining bathroom, Marlow’s apprehension over the impending party was momentarily banished as she took in the room with awe. Beautifully tiled floor sparkled up at her, in the center of which was a large, round pool that was filled to the brim with steaming water. Along the rim of the golden bathing pool was an assortment of jars that held bath salts, powders, creams, shampoos, and other things that Marlow had no idea how to use. The windows in the bathroom were large, colorful collages of stained glass that cast a kaleidoscope of light into the room.

            Along one wall a golden bench ran, stacked on it were fluffy white towels, and a couple of folded robes. Sitting down on the bench, Marlow yanked off her dirt-splattered boots and set them aside. She supposed she would have no use for the boots now that she had her own wardrobe fit for a Queen. Peeling out of the breeches and tunic she wore, Marlow smiled, a bit giddily, as she stepped down into the steaming, hot bath.

            It wasn’t every day that a farm girl received a hot bath, and the feeling of the warm liquid cascading over sore muscles and joints felt divine. As Marlow soaked in the water, thoughts raced about her in dizzying circles. What was going to happen to her? How could she, of all people, be the Queen? What did the Queen even do, really? Candidates for Queen were given classes to lead up to the Crowning Day, but Marlow had no preparation for the new role ahead of her.

            Dunking beneath the water, Marlow ran her fingers through her wet hair, and then dipped out a little shampoo from one of the glass jars. The amber liquid smelled of honey as she worked it into a lather, making her toes curl with delight.  Once her reddish brown hair was sufficiently clean, she sprinkled some of the bathsalts into the water, and then scrubbed at her skin with the cake of lavender soap that had been left for her. Marlow had no doubt that she would never tire of the wonderful bathroom, and could foresee it being her favorite part of being Queen.

            Once Marlow felt clean, she reluctantly left the bath, and wrapped herself in one of the thick towels. Drying off quickly, the new Queen slipped into one of the white robes that lay folded on the bench. Like clockwork, the maid reappeared then, and stood behind the chair of the white vanity in the bathroom. The two women stared at each other for a moment before Marlow realized that the servant was waiting for her to take a seat. Moving over to the vanity, Marlow sat down, and watched in the mirror as the servant took to towel drying her long, auburn hair.

            “What is your name?” Marlow asked.

            “Deena.” The dark blonde began gently combing through the Queen’s hair, her fingers gently coaxing out the tangles in the damp tresses.

            “How old are you?”

            “Nineteen, Your Majesty.” Deena supplied as she intricately braided Marlow’s hair into patterns that Marlow had never seen before. Once there were several of these tiny, perfect braids, Deena wove them all together and pinned it with an elegant twist. It made Marlow feel more at ease to have someone with such skill tending to her.

            “I’ve never been to a feast before.” Marlow confessed, her jittery nervous making her feel far chattier than usual.

            A knowing smile curved across Deena’s face as she glanced up in the mirror to look at Marlow’s face, “You’ll do fine, Your Grace, just behave as the others do. Mimicry is the sincerest form of flattery, is it not?”

            Marlow smiled, feeling slightly more at ease now that she had told someone her secret. Although it did unnerve her to have Deena call her “Your Grace.” She supposed that was something she would have to get use to hearing. When Deena was finished with Marlow’s hair she stepped back and surveyed the gleaming pile of braids and curls, seemingly very satisfied with her efforts. Before leaving the bathroom, Deena carefully applied powder to Marlow’s face, and then some light make up above the Queen’s bright, hazel eyes, which looked nearly golden in the sunlight.

            “What would you like to wear this evening, Your Highness?” Deena asked as she led the way back into Marlow’s room, and opened the wardrobe doors.

            Marlow looked, with wonder, at the colorful array of clothing inside the wardrobe. Silk dresses, skirts, blouses, nightgowns, robes, cloaks, anything and everything that Marlow would ever need was magically tucked inside of the wardrobe. Still, Marlow ran her fingers nervously over the many selections that she had. There had certainly never been a need for such fine clothing on the farm and some of the garments looked so beautiful and complex that she wasn’t even sure how they were to be worn.

            “What would you suggest?” Marlow asked Deena, clearly uncomfortable with making the decision.

            The maid stood before the wardrobe for a moment before pulling out a chocolate, silk dress, the waistline of which was stitched with beautiful, golden embroidery. Handing Marlow the dress, Deena reached inside and drew out a pair of golden slippers with pointy toes, and then with that a long, golden cloak, with a train that was longer than any Marlow had ever seen.

            “It’s a sign of your status.” Deena explained when she saw the way Marlow looked at the long train. She set the pointy shoes on the floor, and draped the golden cloak over her arm.

            Marlow wondered if she would ever be able to catch up on all of the nuances of royalty as she slipped into the chocolate gown. The silk shimmered over her body in glistening waterfalls of material. The golden, empire waistline hugged her slender frame nicely, and the low, scooping neckline made her blush. Marlow couldn’t remember ever having worn a dress before as there had been no need for such attire living on her father’s farm.

            “The color looks wonderful on you, Your Highness.” Deena said as she slipped the shoes onto Marlow’s feet, and then stood and secured the long, golden train onto her shoulders.

            The servant turned then, and opened a nearly hidden drawer on the wardrobe.

            “Is that what I think it is?” Marlow asked as Deena drew out a golden circlet that looked intricately wound with a large, yellow diamond set in the center.

            “You’ll see.” Deena winked as she carefully planted the circlet amidst Marlow’s fiery hair. Turning and opening up another compartment, this one completely hidden from plain sight, Deena drew the crown out of the wardrobe next. This piece of golden jewelry was much chunkier than the circlet, with towering spires, and a velvety red cap in the center. Bringing the crown over, Deena placed it down, and Marlow watched as the pieces of the circlet and the crown fit together like two puzzle pieces specifically made for one another.

            “The crown is only for special occasions, like the feast tonight, but all other times you can leave the crown behind and just wear the circlet.”Deena revealed.

            Marlow studied herself in the full-length mirror, transfixed by the woman that she saw staring back at her. Surely this elegant, demure looking creature was not the same woman that had woken up in a shack and bathed in a cold, water basin that morning?

            “Hands, please, Your Grace.” Deena motioned for the Queen to hold out her hands.

            Marlow complied without hesitation, and smiled as Deena slipped a simple golden bracelet onto one of her wrists, and then slid the royal signet ring onto her left hand. It was tradition for the Queens of Anriel to wear the royal ring on their left hand in place of a wedding band.

            “Now, no one will ever know that you weren’t bred for this position, milady.” Deena said, with a hint of pride in her voice as she smiled at Marlow.

            “Deena,” Marlow spoke with a hesitant smile, “when we’re alone, please call me Marlow.” Even as she said it Marlow could see the look of surprise in the maid’s eyes as she ducked her head.

            “As you wish, Your Grace.”

            A knock at the door interrupted the two women, but without missing a beat, Deena crossed the room and cracked open the portal. It was obvious that whoever was on the other side was expected since Deena gave a deep bow and opened the door the rest of the way. The tall, dominating figure of the Grand Prince swept into the room. He had changed out of his clothing from earlier and wore black dress attire that was comprised of fancy silks and on his shoulders he bore golden chains that kept his own long black cape in place. A sign of rank, Deena said. 

The sight of him made Marlow cringe. There was something too handsome, too beautiful, about Bram. He was cold, and calculating, that much was evident in his hard, black eyes.

            Bram’s obsidian orbs bore down on her before he crooked a finger, “Well, come on then. They’re waiting for us downstairs.”

            Even though she was still new to the whole “Your Grace” thing, Marlow was fairly certain that even the Queen outranked the Grand Prince. Which means he can’t just order me around like that! Still Marlow didn’t think disobeying Bram would be a smart move and she found herself obediently moving forward, her slippered feet barely making any noise as she crossed the room. Bram offered Marlow his arm, and although she was loath to touch him, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and squared her shoulders. Here goes nothing.

 

~~~

            “I present to you, Queen Marlow.” The strident voice belonged to Aldan, and polite applause rippled through the Great Hall as the High Priest bowed to the new Queen. Like a wave, the rest of the crowd bowed to Marlow as well, except for Bram, who stood at her elbow like an ominous dark cloud. All of the nobles gathered were dressed in vibrant, flamboyant colors with varying lengths of cloaks to signify their importance.

            Unsure what was expected of her, Marlow dipped her head and smiled hesitantly as she lifted her hand. The gesture seemed to suffice as people immediately sprang into action, milling about as music started wafting over the Great Hall.  The smell of delicious food lingered in the air as it was placed on tables by palace servants for the gentry to enjoy.

            “Come, my lady, let me show you around.” Aldan approached, successfully rescuing Marlow from Bram, who inclined his dark head to the Head Priest and left the platform. Without hesitation, the Queen took the High Priest’s offered arm, and joined him in meandering through the crowd. Most people seemed kind enough, their expressions curious as they greeted the new Queen and congratulated her.

            “I have noticed that I am the only one wearing a golden cape.” Marlow said conversationally to Aldan, one eyebrow lifted as she regarded him.

            “Ah yes, milady, you will also notice that Bram is wearing the only black cape, which signifies his rank as Grand Prince. You will see other green capes,” he reached up and touched the fine material attached to his shoulders, “but all of the other ones will be shorter than mine. Any man in the priesthood wears a green knee-length cape, my full length one signifies that I am the Head of the Order.”

            Marlow found that interesting, and she excitedly began asking about each of the capes that they saw. She learned that the court musicians wore waist-length blue capes, the rich merchants wore lively waist-length purple capes, and the lower ranking guards wore waist-length red capes. The Captain of the Guard, who apparently reported directly to Bram, wore a floor length red cape, and his tall, broad-shouldered frame was just as intimidating as that of the Grand Prince.

            “Was everything in your quarters to your liking?” Aldan asked as he steered her toward one corner of the crowded room.

            “Oh, yes. It was wonderful.” Marlow smiled politely, thinking of the overwhelming luxurious room that awaited her return.

            “Good,” Aldan approved with a dimpled smile, “I believe that there is someone here who wishes to see you.” Patting her hand warmly, Aldan motioned for her to continue forward and at that moment Marlow caught sight of her father. Matthew had been given fine clothes to wear, and blended in with the gentry around him, except for the obvious weathering of his face and hands that only hard work and the sun could bring.

            “Dad!” She gasped happily.

            “Marly.” Matthew smiled as he stepped forward and enveloped his daughter in a hug.

            “Can you believe this?” Marlow breathed into his ear, taking solace in the warm, familiar embrace of her father.

            “Of course,” Matthew said as he pulled back and looked at Marlow, his eyes shining with pride, “I’ve always known you were special. You have made me so proud, Marly. Your mother would have been proud too.”

            Tears pressed to Marlow’s eyes as the smiling memory of her mother floated to the surface. Her mother had died when she was so little that there wasn’t much about her that Marlow could remember. Matthew was the only parent that Marlow had ever really known.  

            “You look great, Dad.” She said as she fingered the silk material of his shirt.

            Matthew lifted his hands, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes pressing together as he grinned, “I feel ridiculous. Men shouldn’t wear silk.” He picked at his shirt, trying to hide his disdain for the finery.

            Marlow had never dreamed that she and Matthew would ever have more than the bare necessities that the farm provided.  Putting her hands on her father’s shoulders, she lifted her chin and gave him her most regal smile, “Well, you might as well get use to it. Your daughter is The Queen now. There’s going to be nothing but the best for us from now on.”

~~~

            Matthew felt as comfortable at the fancy coronation feast as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Not to mention the fancy get up he had on left him feeling hot and itchy. People really chose to dress this way all the time? At least I don’t have to wear one of those silly cape things. He thought as he looked at a man who wore a vibrant pink cape. Being a man of no rank meant that Matthew didn’t have to wear one of the fancy cloaks and that was more than fine by him.

            The farmer’s eyes glanced about the room for the telltale sign of a golden cloak, and once he had zeroed in on his daughter, still on the arm of the old priest, he felt comfortable in slipping out for some fresh air.  A nearby door led out onto an open veranda and Matthew sighed with relief as the fresh night air washed over him. From the balcony he could see out over the entire kingdom, a view he’d never dreamed of seeing from the vantage point of the castle. 

            Casting about, Matthew’s eyes zeroed in on a stone bench that was partially hidden behind some absurd looking foliage that sprouted from a gigantic planter, no doubt it had been placed there has part of the decorations for the party. It looked like the perfect place to hide out for a few moments and not be bothered by the namby-pambies of Anariel.

            No sooner had Matthew gotten settled on the bench then the sound of angry footsteps tattooing a sharp beat on the marble floors met his ears.  Instinctually the man shuffled a little more to the right and behind the enormous planter, now thankful that it was there, no matter how ridiculous it looked. Peeking between the leaves of the bristly plant, his breath froze in his throat when he saw a man in a long black cape and another in a floor length red cape. Bram and the Captain of the Guard!

            “I will not let some peasant come in here and ruin everything that we have worked so hard to change!” Bram hissed in a deadly tone, his obsidian eyes flashing.

            “What would you have us do, sir? She’s the Queen now.” The guard Captain nearly quailed under the gaze of the Grand Prince.

            “You will get rid of her, of course! I don’t care how you do it, but by tonight she’d better be gone from this palace! Break her neck and toss her down the well, for all I care, just make sure she cannot come back and ruin my plans!” Bram stepped menacingly closer to the shorter man, bearing down on him like a hawk to its prey. “And no mistakes!”

            “Y-yes, sir!”

            Matthew waited until the two men retreated back inside before leaving his hiding place. He had to find Marlow, and fast!

~~~

            The coronation feast was a blur of people, food, and noise, and before long Marlow was beginning to feel fatigued from her busy day. Aldan, who seemed to have noticed that the Queen was fading, pulled her aside.

            “I know you must be tired, milady. No one will question it if you wish to return to your rooms now.” The fatherly tone in Aldan’s voice warmed Marlow’s heart.

            “What about my father?” She had lost touch with him after Aldan had whirled her off to meet more of the dignitaries, all of whom were just a blur of faces and colorful cloaks at this point.

            “He will be given a place to stay at the palace tonight. Don’t worry I will see that he is taken care of.” Aldan patted Marlow’s arm dotingly, “Now, Deena will show you back to your quarters.”

            Marlow blinked against eyelids that felt incredibly heavy, “Thank you, sir.”

            “Please,” The man admonished softly, “call me Aldan.”

            “This way, Your Majesty.” Deena was at Marlow’s elbow, and led her through a maze of corridors, little of which Marlow recognized from before, until they were back in her royal suite.

While she had been gone, Deena had coaxed a cheerful flame to life in the grand fireplace that nearly dwarfed the royal room. The warmth of the fire was welcome against the cold marble floors that were rather chilly at night.  I could really get use to this, Marlow decided as she looked at the bed that had been turned down in anticipation of her arrival.

            Marlow reached up to take off the ridiculously heavy crown when the door to her room was thrust open, sending the wooden portal slamming against the wall with a deafening “crack!”  

            “Dad?” She frowned in confusion as her father and Aldan spilled into the room, closing the door hurriedly behind them, and looking slightly winded as they leaned against it with chests heaving.

            “Hurry, my child,” it was Aldan who spoke in an urgent hiss, “you have to escape the palace! Now!”

            Marlow stared between her father and Aldan in bewilderment, “Why? What are you talking about?”

            Matthew stepped forward with worry etched onto his face, a look that Marlow had never seen before, “I overheard the Grand Prince talking to the Captain. They’re going to try and kill you tonight,” he seized Marlow by her shoulders, “and you must escape!”

            The girl’s mouth was hanging open in surprise, even as she processed the information from her father. Why would Bram want to kill her? She had known that he didn’t like that she’d been chosen as Queen, but would he really take it so far as to have her murdered?

            “Marly,” Matthew grabbed his daughter again, and gave her a shake, “there’s no time to-” The door crashed open, and a slew of palace guards barreled into the room, their swords raised.

            “Get back you traitors!” Aldan’s voice was searing, and with one outstretched hand he blasted the nearest guard off of his feet with his wind magic.

            “Go!”Matthew ordered, shoving Marlow into Deena’s arms.

            “I can’t leave you!” Marlow’s cries were nearly lost in the din of noise.

            Deena grunted as she wrapped her arms around Marlow’s waist and began hauling her backwards, even as the Queen tried to wiggle free of her ironclad grip.

            “Marly �"“

            “Daddy no!” Marlow screamed in terror as a guard came up behind Matthew, a long, jagged scar disfiguring his face.

            As if in slow motion, Marlow watched as her father turned to face his attacker, only to have the guard’s blade shoved through his sternum. Matthew clutched at the blood that blossomed from the gaping wound in his chest, and then he crumpled to the floor. Marlow watched, transfixed, as Aldan fell next with arrows protruding from his body.

            Deena pulled open a hatch beneath the wardrobe, and shoved Marlow down into the pitch, black chute. Jumping in next, Deena pulled the door behind her, and followed the Queen down the long slide until they landed in a crumpled heap together.

            “Your Majesty,” Deena’s worried tone sounded miles away in Marlow’s ears.

            Images of blood whirled in front of Marlow’s eyes. Her knees felt weak and the urge to vomit made her stomach churn.

            “You’ve got to pull yourself together!” Deena’s hand was a blur through the air as it connected across Marlow’s face in a sharp slap.

            “Now, listen to me carefully, if you sit here you die and then your father’s death, and Aldan’s death is in vain. I’m going to get you out of the castle.” The maid promised with a gleam in her eye.

            “But where will I go?” Marlow’s voice sounded tiny to her own ears.

            Deena sighed as she grabbed Marlow by the elbow, and hauled her up, speaking quickly as they walked, “We don’t have much time, Marly, so listen closely. My brother is the leader of the rebellion. Have you heard of the rebellion? No? They live outside of the city walls in the forest; they call it the Wolf’s Den. It will be a long walk for you, nearly two days, but you’ll find them in a clearing near a large waterfall. My brother will look after you and make sure you’re protected. Wear this,” Deena reached inside of her shirt and tore off the pendant that she had been wearing, “my brother will recognize it.”

            “You’re not coming with me?” Marlow asked slowly, as the girl’s words began to sink in. She was supposed to just strike off through the forest and find some ‘rebel camp?’ What good would that do her? How would she find it anyway?

            “I can’t go with you,” there was a pained expression on Deena’s face, “because I have to stay here and keep an eye on the Grand Prince. Once you start traveling do not look back. Do not go to your farm.  Do you understand?” Deena’s dark, green eyes bored into Marlow’s.

            “Y-yes, I think so.”

            “Good, we’re going to split up now. I’m going to cause a distraction. You’re going to take this corridor on your right. Run all the way to the end, and don’t look back. At the end of the corridor is a large, stained glass window. Break through it. The drop is short, so brace yourself. Once you’re outside, there’s a small crack in the palace wall, squeeze through it, and you’re out.” Deena surveyed Marlow’s face, “Now, repeat it to me.”

            Marlow licked her lips as she struggled to focus on all of the directions she had been given, “Take the corridor on the right, jump through the window, and squeeze through the palace wall. Walk two days into the forest, find the waterfall in the clearing, and show this necklace to your brother.”

            Deena pulled Marlow in for a quick hug, and for her young age, she appeared to Marlow much older, and more experienced than her years.

            “Now go, and good luck.”

            Marlow watched as Deena turned and sprinted off into the dark hallway. Silence enveloped the Queen as she felt fear began to snake its way up her legs and into the pit of her stomach. What if the plan didn’t work? How did she know that she could really trust Deena? As the sound of footsteps and the clanking of armor began to ring in the hallway behind her, Marlow was forced into action.

            Racing down the corridor to her right, Marlow saw at the end of it a large, stained glass widow, just as Deena had instructed. The blood in her ears pounded in rhythm to her footfalls as she raced down the marble corridor. Just as Marlow neared the end, a shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness.

            “Hello?” Marlow frowned in confusion. It was her childhood friend, one of the four Candidates that had been in the market square earlier that day. Rose.  

            “You just had to ruin it, didn’t you Marlow? You and your precious magic.” The girl’s face was contorted into a picture of wrath as she advanced on Marlow.

            “Rose, what are you talking about?” Marlow took a step backwards.

            “I was supposed to be Queen!” Rose screeched, lunging at Marlow.

            Marlow grunted as she was hit with the full impact of Rose’s body weight. The two girls fell to the floor. Instinctively, Marlow raised her hands above her face as Rose raked her fingernails down Marlow’s cheek, and along her neck. Pain exploded across Marlow’s scalp as Rose began yanking at her intricately braided hair as if searching for something. My crown!

            “All mine!” Rose crowed in triumph as she plucked the crown from Marlow’s head, and then smashed it down upon her own platinum blonde tresses.

            “All yours!” Marlow grunted as she snaked her hand up and jabbed her fist into Rose’s nose. The feel of cartilage crunching beneath her knuckles was oddly satisfying as Rose rolled off her in a howl of pain.

            Scrambling to her feet, Marlow could hear the guards approaching at a fast clip from the end of the corridor. She had to get through the window! Ripping the crown from Rose’s head, Marlow chucked it at the stained glass window, and then shielded herself with raised arms as the glass shattered apart, raining colorful shards down onto the floor. Cool night air blasted in through the opening, and with one last glance at the advancing guards, Marlow turned and threw herself out of the window. 

Reviews

[Maddie]

Again, an overall good chapter. Still, some small issues that I want to bring to your attention, considering that I sung your praises the last chapter. Thus, you know already know that I'm a fan of this tale. Sadly, I'm plagued with the mindset of a typical English major, and I think about grammar and the like often. Still, people, when writing, don't like to pay attention to small things, but these small things, in the end, make it easier for the reader to understand what's written. Thus, I'm here to lend a hand (though you don't have to take any of my advice if you don't want to; it's your own right, and I respect that).

One weird spot that seemed a little cliche was when Matthew was listening in on Bram and the guard, you end the section with saying that he had to find Marlow, "and fast!" Since you're a good writer, I definitely think there is a better way to say that, because the way you have it now throws off the whole cadence of the story. It's just not as dramatic as it should be when you consider the writing style and the nature of the story. Just a little quip of my opinion.

The plot is still moving extremely quickly. If you're looking to do so, there is a way to draw this out if you're looking to reach the length of the average novel because, how you're doing it, you just squeezed what could be an entire book (or half of a book) into two chapters. However, you do have a good framework, with an interesting plot and developed characters.

In its entirety, there are a few places where you have run-on sentences, where you should have a period or semicolon in place of a period. One example is toward the beginning of this chapter, in the paragraph beginning with "The Answer seemed to please Aldan..." In Aldan's quote, there were a few problems.

This is your copied-and-pasted sentence:
“That’s good, milady, even though your abilities are minimal, your talents in each element can be trained, honed, so that you have complete mastery over them both.”

I, however, adhering to the typical rules of punctuation, would write it a little differently:
"That's good, milady. Even though your abilities are minimal, your talents in each of the elements can be trained..." And the rest of it is fine. It's that one instance where you separate two independent clauses with only a comma, where you should have used a period or semicolon. It may not seem like a huge deal, but reading it can be a little confusing, or annoying, if anything.

Still, grammar can be learned, but good writing is a lot more difficult to teach to someone, so kudos to you for being able to write well. I enjoyed the slight switching of perspectives in order to gain a new insight on different characters and how that added into the plot.

I await the next chapter of this story! Feel free to hit me up if you have any questions about anything I commented because I'm most definitely willing to elaborate.

Happy writing, and, again, I'm really sorry for the lengthy review.
Maddie