I really hated this book.
I mean, like actually hated it. This was the kind of hatred where every chapter of the book gave me the urge to throw my phone across the room. The emperor? A walking red flag. The empress? Dead. And let's not even talk about the prophecy.
The firstborn child of the emperor will either save the empire, or destroy it.
Huh? That is the what was set up? And then the answer was... to get rid of the heir??
"Oh wow, great job geniuses," I muttered, turning to the next page. "You could have waited to see if the kid turned out nice, but nah, let us just get rid of it at the end just because some old man stargazed wrongly."
And the emperor. Everyone in the comments was drooling over him. "Omg he is so cold and powerful." No, he was a psycho in fancy clothes. He ordered the death of his own child without blinking? That's not hot. That is therapy.
"Okay," I huffed, "one more chapter. Just so I can give it one star, with proof."
But I didn't get to the next chapter, because the dark slammed down.
When I opened my eyes again, everything was wrong. The first thing I saw were eyes, staring right back at me. Huge, surprised, and far, far too close.
I jerked, well, I tried to jerk. My infant body just flopped loosely in the blankets.
The maid holding me blinked, her mouth slightly ajar with surprise. She had dark hair, in a neat braid, and her plain linen outfit was spotless despite the chaos around her.I recognised her. My heart skipped. That's Marta.
In the story, Marta was just a background character. She was just a low-level maid of the palace and she was mentioned twice. The first time, she was given the task of caring for the "cursed heir." The second time, she was executed for not "watching the child closely."
I stared at her, panic bubbling in my tiny chest.
No. Not her. Not yet.
She slowly tilted her head to the side and knitted her brows together. "Your Highness?" she whispered, as if she were practicing the title. Marta shifted her grip, lifting me gently against her shoulder. I felt utterly small in her arms.
"Your Highness," she cooed softly. Her voice sounded much steadier now. "We're going to the throne room. The Head Priest is here to give you your blessing."
...Right. The blessing.
My stomach twisted. I remembered this part from the novel. It started out so nice.
I barely had time to blink before Marta scooped me up in her arms.
"Come now, Your Highness," she said, softly, but with a sense of urgency. "We're going to the throne room. The Grand Priest is waiting...he will bless you."
Bless me?
I squirmed, trying to protest, but my little limbs had no strength.
Next thing I know, I'm going to have a ribbon in my hair and a crown on my head while the amazing palace is plotting my death behind my back.
Marta's dark eyes dropped down on me. "Don't worry, little one. Nothing will hurt you while I'm around."
I wanted to hug her or just kick her in a really polite way.
The corridor was colder than I remembered in the book, and the wall of incense came at me like a brick wall. I tried to focus on Marta's face, hoping part of her would acknowledge the upcoming danger I already knew was coming.
And then it hit me. My mom was not here.
She was dead. She died giving birth to me in the book. Now I really got that. My little chest tightened with a mixture of fear and anger.
Great. So not only did I have the dead mom situation, but the coming doom that had been prophesized, also. Could this story get any worse?
"Very soon, all will be well," she said. "The blessing will protect you."