"I just.. I just came to help."
Immediately, his face twisted into something short of human. "You're the cursed child, aren't you?"
The air left my lungs.
He stood… too fast… for someone that thin.
"You are!" he shouted. "You're her! The witch! The one the prophecy talked about! Did you think we wouldn't know of the prophecy?"
"No…" I tried to say, but he was already screaming.
"She came from the Winding Road! She's cursed! A crippled dead… a demon runs through her veins!"
"No… please. You are mistaken…"
Several heads snapped in my direction. Their eyes followed the line from the man's finger to me, my chair, my dress, and the women standing behind me like guards.
"That's her from the lonely house down that road…"
"I heard that house was haunted. Only a witch can live there."
What? Where did they…?
"Cursed!" The man yelled louder.
"Syrr! Move, now!"
Nephroma's voice snapped me back to where I was.
Someone threw something. It slammed heavily on my face, sliding down in a thick yellow trail.
Eggs.
It was raining eggs!
I tried to lift my arms to shield my face, but the eggs kept coming.
Someone threw a rotting fruit. I couldn't move fast enough to dodge it. Its juices gushed right into my eyes, sending sparks of pain through my skull.
The rest tickled right into my mouth, sour and bitter.
"Come on, Princess." Evangra and Nephroma pulled me back with cold hands, shoving me into the carriage seat.
"My wheelchair…" I yelled, trying to pry their hands tightened around my waist. That was the last thing I had from my father to remind me of his… love.
But the carriage rolled forward fast.
"No…"
"Forget it." Syrr commanded.
My ears rang. I didn't know what to do or say. I just sat there bruised and humiliated, still holding the jade in my hand.
It wasn't even real. All I wanted was to show him a little kindness. It wasn't just his words. It was the way they looked at me… as if I didn't belong to this city at all. And for the umpteenth time in years, I knew they were right.
The carriage rocked over the uneven road, and for a while, no one spoke. Then I saw them reach inside their sleeves. Evangra and Nephroma pulled out a long parchment scroll that was worn and stained at the edges.
I frowned at them. "What are those?"
"Instructions," Nephroma said simply.
"Instructions?" I asked again, shifting in my seat. "For who?"
"For you."
She didn't look at me. "Your behaviour this morning can get you killed at the Castle Court. Therefore we prepared instructions for you to follow. Your presence today is not right. It is mercy," she began. "Queen Isolde has granted you the honor of appearing at the First Recognition and Memorial. For your safety, you will not speak. You will not look anyone in the eye. You will not raise your hand, wave, nod, or answer even if spoken to. You will sit. You will smile. And you will do nothing else."
I swallowed, already regretting many decisions.
"Your voice is not wanted," Evangra continued. "You are not there to be seen, remembered, or acknowledged. You are someone who is supposed to be dead. The court does not know your face, and we aim to keep it that way until the Queen decides otherwise."
When she paused, I thought maybe she was done.
"Do you remember Hestel?"
Again? I bit my lower lip. "She… used to braid my hair when I was little."
"Yes. Well, she spoke out of turn during last year's offering. Her tongue was cut out, and her children were sold to the ash mines."
My mouth went dry.
Nephroma smiled faintly. "And Lord Neal?"
"Beheaded," Evangra replied before I could even guess. "For laughing during the Queen's public speech."
"His head is still on a spike by the western rampart," Syrr finished coolly, staring at me now.
"Not to mention," Nephroma added, her eyes scanning the scroll with a tilt of mockery, "you're a crippled outcast. If you so much as breathe the wrong way, they'll assume you've been possessed by a demon of rot and burn you before sunrise."
"I'm not possessed," I muttered.
They all snorted.
"Of course not," Syrr said dryly. "You're just… crippled."
I bit the inside of my cheek. I hated when they laughed like that. Still, I tried. "Well, if I'm supposed to be dead… Do I get to haunt someone? I think I'd start with you, Nephroma…"
Before I could finish, Nephroma whipped out her left hand and flicked them across my face.
My head snapped sideways as that part of my cheeks began to burn.
Nephroma just slapped me.
I stared at her, stunned. Evangra leaned in close, gripping my chin hard enough to make my jaw ache. Then she turned my face back toward her, examining the spreading bruise as if it was nothing more than a wrinkle.
"Smile," she ordered.
"What?" I whispered, tasting iron in my mouth.
"Smile," she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "Pretend you're happy to be alive. Pretend you don't smell like dust and rot. Pretend, Princess Kaelynn or I'll staple it to your face myself."
I grinned, but it didn't reach my eyes. It. Couldn't.
"What about her dress?" Evangra asked Nephroma. "She will smell in court."
"And we will be far away. Leave her. That would be her punishment for leaving the carriage to excite beggers. What was she thinking?"
The sting on my cheek throbbed harder with the effort, but I held it. Just like they told me.
It was so hard to fight back the tears. Instead, I looked down at my hands. The red and raw scabs on my knuckles were peeling again. I raised one, and began to scratch…
"Stop that," Nephroma snapped. "You'll ruin the fabric."
My hands dropped like stones into my lap.
Evangra looked ahead. "We're here."
My heart thudded with fright. I didn't know how to sit, or breathe, or exist without them telling me how.
If it was like this now, how was it going to be in Castle Court? Just like that, terror consumed the rest of the courage I had left.