Kajsa does arts® and writes®, yay!

[Through The Living Glass She/Her]

2 minutes ago, Kajsa said:

random doodles from school!

  Reveal hidden contents

…i don’t get to eat lunch for two more hours… help… 

Ooooooooooo cool

[Edema Rue she/her]

33 minutes ago, Kajsa said:

random doodles from school!

  Reveal hidden contents

…i don’t get to eat lunch for two more hours… help… 

SURVIVE

STEAL FOOD

HERE *gives chocolate*

[Kajsa she/her]

ok so i already posted this on my profile but i wanted to put it here too 

this is Everett and Hadley in what is quite possibly the saddest romantic scene in my entire book series 

Spoiler

i think it took about 3 hours in total?

Edited May 27 by Kajsa
wrong version of the drawing lmao 😂😂😂

[Cash67 Where’s/Perry]

1 hour ago, Kajsa said:

ok so i already posted this on my profile but i wanted to put it here too 

this is Everett and Hadley in what is quite possibly the saddest romantic scene in my entire book series 

  Hide contents

i think it took about 3 hours in total?

excuse me only 3 HOURS??!?! Loving the lighting, it makes the scene feel more real to me. 

[Kajsa she/her]

3 minutes ago, Cash67 said:

excuse me only 3 HOURS??!?! Loving the lighting, it makes the scene feel more real to me. 

aw thanks Cash

[Kajsa she/her]

hi again, it’s me

i found this old drawing i did 2 years ago of characters from my novel, Quialla and Blade, and wanted to do a redraw. these are two years apart. 

(best viewed at full screen brightness as that’s how i paint)

Spoiler

 

 

 

both were done in procreate

the first one took 2 hrs 28 mins

and the second one took 3 hrs 45 mins

anyway enjoy!

Edited May 29 by Kajsa

[Medium he/they]

DAAAAAANG

[Through The Living Glass She/Her]

Oh they're so cute!! Good job! 

[Cash67 Where’s/Perry]

1 hour ago, Kajsa said:

hi again, it’s me

i found this old drawing i did 2 years ago of characters from my novel, Quialla and Blade, and wanted to do a redraw. these are two years apart. 

(best viewed at full screen brightness as that’s how i paint)

  Hide contents

 

FullSizeRender.MOV 13.64 MB · 2 downloads

 

 

 

both were done in procreate

the first one took 2 hrs 28 mins

and the second one took 3 hrs 45 mins

anyway enjoy!

 

1 hour ago, Medium said:

DAAAAAANG

*dittos Covro* That's incredible! 

[Kajsa she/her]

thanks everybody!! i’m really happy with how it turned out. here it is again as a picture instead of in the video

Spoiler

 

[Kajsa she/her]

ok so i'm working on a thing

and i'd like detailed feedback (please be harsh--not mean, but like, ykwim)

because i feel like my prose is really lacking and dry lately

and it's making me frustrated T-T 

this is the introduction/prologue thingie for Highborn, the first book in my series. yes, some of it may seem familiar, but i promise it's not the same thing!!!

it's obviously not done, but i'm struggling to move on without fixing what i have so far first. the transitions/thoughts feel choppy and chaotic and very all-over-the-place without having emotion, and the prose is dry, and uhhhhh... yeah, maybe i should stop talking it down so y'all will read it

and if you do read it PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know what's been done well and what could be improved on! thank you, loveliesssssss!!!!!!!!!

Spoiler

INTRODUCTION

MIRA

 

 

 

 

I didn’t mean to kill her.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that they’re vulnerable to the one thing that makes me whole; that they’re not like me and Arson. 

But it’s not hard to remember her screams. 

In fact, they’re the one thing in this world that’s hard to forget. 

For hours, I’ve lain awake, and for hours, sleep has refused me; I can still hear her wails, her gut-wrenching shrieks of agony ringing in my ears.

I blame the restlessness on my stiff, poorly made cot, though I know my bed is the least of my problems. Even if it were comfortable, even if I were laying on royal silks and goose down, I would not sleep. Tomorrow is the first of the season: the day criminals are punished and usually hanged, though we don’t get a lot of crime around here. I can only pray to the Gods that I won't be among the corpses tomorrow. 

This town wouldn’t miss me and Arson, though; it would probably cheer as the life was squeezed from our throats–cry for joy, sing a song, do a little dance. 

All but two.

No, Everett and Mama would be the only grim-faced spectators. I can see it now, Ev’s bronze eyes hard and cold, face red with anger. Or maybe his eyes would be blurred out with tears, and his jaw would fall slack as he lost the energy to fight for the girl he loved. Mama’s blue eyes would cloud over, face streaked with salt. She would weep into that baby blue shawl as her children suffocated at the hands of rope, blinded by her grief as she lost her children to the same monster that took her lover.

Or perhaps neither of them would come at all. Perhaps the pain would be too much, and we would be left to face our deaths all alone.

Feeling wretched and empty, I kick my blankets to the foot of my cot, leaving them in tangled heaps. I can feel my heartbeat pounding angrily in my chest as I stand to pace, knots in my gut twisting tighter. 

Mama says it wasn’t actually my fault, and it wasn’t Arson’s fault. But in a place like this, with people like this, that’s hard to believe. If I’m not to blame, who is? 

My scrawny twin stirs across the room, cot creaking under the weight of his irregular breaths. I watch him as I move around the room, for so long his features twist into a startling resemblance of the woman I accidentally murdered. 

In horror, I watch for the thousandth time the moment that will always haunt me. I try to block it out before it can happen again, try to cover my eyes and ears, but the memory is only louder under my skin.

Her screams are real now, animalistic and inhuman, like a hundred thousand bats scattering in all directions and beating me from all sides, tearing at my clothes and hair. Her face melts into something awful, blackening as my own flame devours her body from the inside out. I can feel it happening; I can feel every one of her nerves frying, her muscles spasming and bones melting. It claws up her throat and out her eyes, charring her skin and hair, gnawing at her until she’s merely a pile of ashes. 

I’m not pacing anymore. My own threadbare screams have cut through the night, and I’m on the floor without exactly knowing how I got there. Mama bursts through the canvas flap that connects our room to hers, eyes wide and panicked. 

“Mama,” I whimper from the cold, hard ground. Tears spill over onto my cheeks, even though I try to keep them in. I hate crying. 

“Mei kaija, my sweet Mira,” she coos, taking me in her arms and settling on the edge of my cot. She gently combs her fingers through my long curls, pulling me close to her heart. Instead of asking what’s the matter, she sings to me softly in her clear, glossy voice. My frightened brother, woken by my terror, climbs from his bed to curl against my mother’s opposite side. He sings along dryly as she strokes his hair with her free hand.

The song is one I’ve heard many times, one Mama learned just for me and Arson. It’s an Eldinese lullaby, something we would have listened to if Laili had kept us. It’s beautiful, a ballad of clear skies and songbirds in harmonious balance with rain and lightning and wind.

My racing heartbeat slows, returning to a more steady pace, in sync with my mother’s which pounds softly beneath my cheek. She smells like lavender and winter, like warm furs, bread, and the fire. Life flows through every part of her–beautiful, bright life that hums like a song and lights her up like an angel. In her arms, I am safe, and that’s all that matters. Here, the woman I murdered cannot attack me, and here, the authorities cannot find me. Here, maybe tomorrow will never come, and I will never have to find out if my life will be cut short.

Ignoring the fact that this could be my last safe moment, I drift into some semblance of sleep.

 

-

 

“Mira and Arson Dethridge.”

The man on the gallows is grizzled and ugly, voice harsh as he announces mine and my twin brother’s names. My name. I can’t take my eyes off the soldiers clearing away the bodies of the last people called.

That’s going to be me.

Mama screams to my right, but the rest of the crowd falls silent, and even the gut-wrenching weeping of the last victims’ mothers stifles. The people around us part to let the soldiers through.

I knew this was coming, though I can’t stop the shock and panic from setting in anyway.

I wish I could take everything back, start over from the beginning. I didn’t mean to kill her, it just happened! I was only trying to protect my brother!

Four armored men clank their way toward us, seizing us by the arms and dragging us toward the gallows. 

“Wait!” Mama shrieks, bursting from the crowd that has already closed behind us. Her shawl–sheer, baby blue–flutters to the ground in her haste, soaking with the autumn rain and still fresh on the ground. “Please, those are my children! You can’t take them! They’re hardly teenagers; you can’t blame them for what happened!” She falls to her knees at the soldiers’ feet, begging. 

“We can, and we do. You’d be better not to question authority.” One of the men at Arson’s side shoves her out of the way, and the crowd starts to shout. Some cheer, hungry for death, and others mock my mother as she struggles to her feet, soaked and muddy, while still others stay completely silent. 

A familiar voice rings through the air, calling my name, though I can hardly process it as my brother and I are hauled up the steps to the gallows. Even though I can’t see him, I know who it is; a boy, slightly older than I am, with messy blonde hair and metallic amber eyes. He’s basically gorgeous, though I could be biased in that opinion.

My boyfriend–the only person in this town besides Mama and Arson who cares a lick about me–pushes out of the mob, his usually subdued face red and angry. He bends down to help my mother to her feet. “You can’t kill her!”

“Ev,” I choke out, the first word I’ve said since we got here, “Stop.” My soldiers give me a stern look and tighten their grip on me but don’t speak.

Everett ignores me, making his way to the base of the gallows with Mama to face the man with death’s to-do list.

( @Edema Rue )

[Edema Rue she/her]

On 5/30/2024 at 9:30 PM, Kajsa said:

ok so i'm working on a thing

and i'd like detailed feedback (please be harsh--not mean, but like, ykwim)

because i feel like my prose is really lacking and dry lately

and it's making me frustrated T-T 

this is the introduction/prologue thingie for Highborn, the first book in my series. yes, some of it may seem familiar, but i promise it's not the same thing!!!

it's obviously not done, but i'm struggling to move on without fixing what i have so far first. the transitions/thoughts feel choppy and chaotic and very all-over-the-place without having emotion, and the prose is dry, and uhhhhh... yeah, maybe i should stop talking it down so y'all will read it

and if you do read it PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know what's been done well and what could be improved on! thank you, loveliesssssss!!!!!!!!!

  Reveal hidden contents

INTRODUCTION

MIRA

 

 

 

 

I didn’t mean to kill her.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that they’re vulnerable to the one thing that makes me whole; that they’re not like me and Arson. 

But it’s not hard to remember her screams. 

In fact, they’re the one thing in this world that’s hard to forget. 

For hours, I’ve lain awake, and for hours, sleep has refused me; I can still hear her wails, her gut-wrenching shrieks of agony ringing in my ears.

I blame the restlessness on my stiff, poorly made cot, though I know my bed is the least of my problems. Even if it were comfortable, even if I were laying on royal silks and goose down, I would not sleep. Tomorrow is the first of the season: the day criminals are punished and usually hanged, though we don’t get a lot of crime around here. I can only pray to the Gods that I won't be among the corpses tomorrow. 

This town wouldn’t miss me and Arson, though; it would probably cheer as the life was squeezed from our throats–cry for joy, sing a song, do a little dance. 

All but two.

No, Everett and Mama would be the only grim-faced spectators. I can see it now, Ev’s bronze eyes hard and cold, face red with anger. Or maybe his eyes would be blurred out with tears, and his jaw would fall slack as he lost the energy to fight for the girl he loved. Mama’s blue eyes would cloud over, face streaked with salt. She would weep into that baby blue shawl as her children suffocated at the hands of rope, blinded by her grief as she lost her children to the same monster that took her lover.

Or perhaps neither of them would come at all. Perhaps the pain would be too much, and we would be left to face our deaths all alone.

Feeling wretched and empty, I kick my blankets to the foot of my cot, leaving them in tangled heaps. I can feel my heartbeat pounding angrily in my chest as I stand to pace, knots in my gut twisting tighter. 

Mama says it wasn’t actually my fault, and it wasn’t Arson’s fault. But in a place like this, with people like this, that’s hard to believe. If I’m not to blame, who is? 

My scrawny twin stirs across the room, cot creaking under the weight of his irregular breaths. I watch him as I move around the room, for so long his features twist into a startling resemblance of the woman I accidentally murdered. 

In horror, I watch for the thousandth time the moment that will always haunt me. I try to block it out before it can happen again, try to cover my eyes and ears, but the memory is only louder under my skin.

Her screams are real now, animalistic and inhuman, like a hundred thousand bats scattering in all directions and beating me from all sides, tearing at my clothes and hair. Her face melts into something awful, blackening as my own flame devours her body from the inside out. I can feel it happening; I can feel every one of her nerves frying, her muscles spasming and bones melting. It claws up her throat and out her eyes, charring her skin and hair, gnawing at her until she’s merely a pile of ashes. 

I’m not pacing anymore. My own threadbare screams have cut through the night, and I’m on the floor without exactly knowing how I got there. Mama bursts through the canvas flap that connects our room to hers, eyes wide and panicked. 

“Mama,” I whimper from the cold, hard ground. Tears spill over onto my cheeks, even though I try to keep them in. I hate crying. 

“Mei kaija, my sweet Mira,” she coos, taking me in her arms and settling on the edge of my cot. She gently combs her fingers through my long curls, pulling me close to her heart. Instead of asking what’s the matter, she sings to me softly in her clear, glossy voice. My frightened brother, woken by my terror, climbs from his bed to curl against my mother’s opposite side. He sings along dryly as she strokes his hair with her free hand.

The song is one I’ve heard many times, one Mama learned just for me and Arson. It’s an Eldinese lullaby, something we would have listened to if Laili had kept us. It’s beautiful, a ballad of clear skies and songbirds in harmonious balance with rain and lightning and wind.

My racing heartbeat slows, returning to a more steady pace, in sync with my mother’s which pounds softly beneath my cheek. She smells like lavender and winter, like warm furs, bread, and the fire. Life flows through every part of her–beautiful, bright life that hums like a song and lights her up like an angel. In her arms, I am safe, and that’s all that matters. Here, the woman I murdered cannot attack me, and here, the authorities cannot find me. Here, maybe tomorrow will never come, and I will never have to find out if my life will be cut short.

Ignoring the fact that this could be my last safe moment, I drift into some semblance of sleep.

 

-

 

“Mira and Arson Dethridge.”

The man on the gallows is grizzled and ugly, voice harsh as he announces mine and my twin brother’s names. My name. I can’t take my eyes off the soldiers clearing away the bodies of the last people called.

That’s going to be me.

Mama screams to my right, but the rest of the crowd falls silent, and even the gut-wrenching weeping of the last victims’ mothers stifles. The people around us part to let the soldiers through.

I knew this was coming, though I can’t stop the shock and panic from setting in anyway.

I wish I could take everything back, start over from the beginning. I didn’t mean to kill her, it just happened! I was only trying to protect my brother!

Four armored men clank their way toward us, seizing us by the arms and dragging us toward the gallows. 

“Wait!” Mama shrieks, bursting from the crowd that has already closed behind us. Her shawl–sheer, baby blue–flutters to the ground in her haste, soaking with the autumn rain and still fresh on the ground. “Please, those are my children! You can’t take them! They’re hardly teenagers; you can’t blame them for what happened!” She falls to her knees at the soldiers’ feet, begging. 

“We can, and we do. You’d be better not to question authority.” One of the men at Arson’s side shoves her out of the way, and the crowd starts to shout. Some cheer, hungry for death, and others mock my mother as she struggles to her feet, soaked and muddy, while still others stay completely silent. 

A familiar voice rings through the air, calling my name, though I can hardly process it as my brother and I are hauled up the steps to the gallows. Even though I can’t see him, I know who it is; a boy, slightly older than I am, with messy blonde hair and metallic amber eyes. He’s basically gorgeous, though I could be biased in that opinion.

My boyfriend–the only person in this town besides Mama and Arson who cares a lick about me–pushes out of the mob, his usually subdued face red and angry. He bends down to help my mother to her feet. “You can’t kill her!”

“Ev,” I choke out, the first word I’ve said since we got here, “Stop.” My soldiers give me a stern look and tighten their grip on me but don’t speak.

Everett ignores me, making his way to the base of the gallows with Mama to face the man with death’s to-do list.

( @Edema Rue )

Okay!! First, please know that I really liked that!!!

And next…hmm. For the most part, you managed to give background without feeling too exposition-dumpy, but there were a couple places where it felt forced. I noticed it when she was talking about her mom and Ev. Maybe if you leave that off to the end of the scene it’ll feel better?

Speaking of the end, your tone started to change a lot there and I think it took away from the actual scene. She called Ev her boyfriend, and said he was basically gorgeous, and that was like a reminder that it’s you telling the story, not Mira. So maybe work on the tone there. 

As far as jumping all over the place, it kind of works because she’s in a “ohmychasmsimactuallygonnadieitsmyfaultisitmyfaultnoonewillcare” kind of mindset. 

Anyway, it still needs some polishing but it’s a really good scene and an awesome starting place!! It might help to set it aside for a bit, then come back once you’ve had time not thinking about it, but up to you. I love your characters though, please share more!!

[Kajsa she/her]

2 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

Okay!! First, please know that I really liked that!!!

And next…hmm. For the most part, you managed to give background without feeling too exposition-dumpy, but there were a couple places where it felt forced. I noticed it when she was talking about her mom and Ev. Maybe if you leave that off to the end of the scene it’ll feel better?

Speaking of the end, your tone started to change a lot there and I think it took away from the actual scene. She called Ev her boyfriend, and said he was basically gorgeous, and that was like a reminder that it’s you telling the story, not Mira. So maybe work on the tone there. 

As far as jumping all over the place, it kind of works because she’s in a “ohmychasmsimactuallygonnadieitsmyfaultisitmyfaultnoonewillcare” kind of mindset. 

Anyway, it still needs some polishing but it’s a really good scene and an awesome starting place!! It might help to set it aside for a bit, then come back once you’ve had time not thinking about it, but up to you. I love your characters though, please share more!!

thank you so much, i can’t tell you how helpful this is!!!!!

[WhyEverNot_8 he/him]

I need to read this later

Gimme 9 hours and I’ll be back

[Kajsa she/her]

ok so i already posted these on my profile

BUT

i need to put more arts here so

this is my OC Chan

Spoiler

these are his .5s

Spoiler

hehe

i wanna do more art today but idk what to do…

OOH MAYBE I SHOULD DO A TAN AND ESTEE 

hmmmmmm

we shall see :3 

OH ALSO sorry for the double post but i have a write to post and that’s slightly different from draws soooo

merited, imo

this is a thing i wrote FOREVER AGO, but i revised it on wednesday and honestly :333

trigger warnings: domestic violence, mention of murder

Spoiler

My silky black mourning gown swishes against the marble floor delicately with each step, embellished with diamond stars. Gold finery drapes itself over my body anywhere it can, an emerald crown forcing me to keep my head high. The dark makeup that lines my eyes contrasts their pale blue, making me look cold and unfeeling. 

They have become windows into my grief-ravaged soul. 

With lips painted the color of blood to match my hair, freshly washed and silky, I glare at my faint reflection in the vigorously polished marble floors. I look like a queen, and I hate it.

I feel like a traitor.

This is the life my brother was supposed to have. And he was good at it. It’s my fault he’s dead, my fault for loving the man who took his crown.

I should have seen the signs. I should have protected him. But instead I stood by while the Crothan prince destroyed my kingdom’s security.

My heeled shoes make a loud, terrible sound, bouncing off of pillars and high, arched ceilings. The noise is almost as empty as I am; it echoes hollowly under my rib cage as I head for the chambers of the man who killed my brother.

Jaeger Yergensen was once the man I loved. When my own father wouldn’t support my dreams, he breathed life and passion into my lungs, promising to give me the things the law wouldn’t allow me to acquire myself. He promised to let me lead armies if that’s what I desired, promised to love me, to care for me, to fix me when I broke.

And then he went and shattered me.

To him, peace was never an option. An alliance through marriage was the perfect solution to the Silver war, but he decided to use his closeness to me as an advantage instead. To learn our tactics. To buy time for his armies to grow. To put himself in line for Elysia’s crown.

In other words, he used me as an advantage to win. And I was stupid enough to let him.

I should have known.

The Crothans are not easily coaxed into submission.

Jaeger is a madman who must be removed from the picture before he sinks Elysia entirely. He is not afraid to ruin our world, and I am the instrument through which he plans to destroy us. My fate will be sealed next week if my plan fails today. A white dress is my noose, a crown my cage, a ring my brand.

The worst part is I don’t think there’s another way out. 

He must die.

I’ve laced a bracer onto my wrist, hidden by my dress’s long sleeves; there’s a small sheath sewn into the leather, the perfect size for my dagger. It shouldn’t be hard. I’ve been trained for this. But still my gut churns, and beads of sweat pool at the nape of my neck. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Before I realize it, I’m at his door. He’s moved into Turner’s old room, a cold slap to the face. 

Another power play. 

It serves as a subtle reminder that Jaeger is in control, that he doesn’t care what I think, and that I am merely a tool; I don’t have feelings. 

A reminder that he is the king.

Without knocking, I turn the doorknob and slip into a wolverine’s territory. I walk slowly, each step careful and measured, head dipped low, eyes on the lavish carpet meant for the true king. Turner’s carpet… I dig my fingernails into my skin to keep my tears away. The room looks almost untouched, save for the absence of little things I took for myself after Turner’s death. I think most of his clothes are still here, as well as his sword, mounted on the wall, a portrait of Mom and Dad, and… one of me. Laughing. 

It’s hard to breathe in here. The air is thick, and goosebumps prickle my arms. Nausea wrenches my gut.

Jaeger knows what he’s doing, and I hate to admit it, but he’s doing a very good job. Biting my lip, I close the door behind me and take a few steps toward the man behind my misery. He meets me halfway, taking my hands gently and kissing my cheek. His touch is so warm and tender I want to fall into his arms and cry. It’s almost hard to remember that he’s the devil. 

Sometimes I do forget, and he becomes the man I loved. But today, I must remember.

“My beautiful Hadley.” Jaeger caresses my cheek, and I let him touch me, but I don’t lean into the gesture. His blonde hair is perfectly disheveled, his blue eyes dazzling, reflecting the dancing light from a fire in the hearth. 

I turn my gaze back to the carpet, and he leads me to a chair, letting my hands slip out of his grasp as I sit. “Is this about our wedding?”

Jaeger smiles tenderly, and my heart leaps, beating hummingbird wings that I quickly crush. Don’t look at him.

“What else?” He settles on a chaise across from me, lounging comfortably on the red velvet. “I wanted to talk about our color scheme.” 

I watch the fire blankly. “Oh. You’re thinking of changing it?” Currently, our color scheme matches Elysia’s royal colors–gold, green, and white. 

“Yes. I think we should do something a bit different. Break some barriers. You like that kind of thing.”

“What exactly were you thinking?” 

Jaeger frowns a little; he must’ve expected me to argue. A few months ago, I would have. “I was thinking,” he stands to pace, “White, blue, and silver. To match your eyes.” He flashes another beautiful smile, and suddenly I’m angry. 

“You mean your colors. The Crothan ones.”

He nods. “I believe it’s more appropriate, seeing as how we’re marrying our two kingdoms. If we’d had the wedding in Crotha, I would have suggested Elysian colors.”

No, you wouldn’t have. His words are as empty as the bedside table, the one that was always crowded with books and loose papers. Sometimes a rogue shirt or a boot would lie beside it, evidence of the exhausting hours my brother endured.

I stay silent. 

Jaeger frowns. “Hadley. Are you okay?”

I don’t respond. He needs to get close, so I can win. He crosses the room to take my hands, lifting me to my feet. I’m shaking. 

I want to yell, to scream, but it wouldn’t be enough. My grief and my fury can not be expressed. I don’t say anything, just stare blankly past his shoulder at the patterned wall, so he takes his fragile princess into his arms.

His guard cracks as I melt against him, burying my face in his neck. He smells delicious, like fresh air and mountaingrass…

I hug him back, reaching around him to draw my weapon. My hands shake, and I think a sob slips out of me.

I grab the hilt of my dagger, ready to end it all, but the unnatural movement does not escape Jaeger’s notice. A yelp bursts from my chest as I suddenly slam into the wall, hands pinned above my head. My crown, lost by inertia, clatters to the floor. 

Jaeger is inches from me, breathing calmly, but he’s seething. His face is red, jaw working, that one vein in his neck popping. I can feel his hot breath on my neck, and it’s disgusting. His fingers slip inside my sleeve, carefully extracting my slightly dislodged weapon. 

“What are you carrying this for?” His voice is suddenly dangerous, edged with a warning. He examines the glinting blade with his free hand, his other still pinning me. 

My breaths come in spasms, and I feel hysterical. Blood drains from my face, my ears ring, and I have to shut my eyes from sudden nausea, words becoming foreign. I struggle to think of anything to say, and when I feel him press closer, I squeak, “...emergencies.”

He scoffs. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to be unprotected. We wouldn’t want another heir dead, now, would we? This kingdom can’t take any more tragedy.” His tone is venomous, and the flat of my own cold dagger traces the contours of my cheek. “Look at me, Hadley.”

I squeeze my eyes tighter, and the knife makes its way from my jaw to my throat. My heart stutters even though I know he can’t hurt me like that, not until next week, anyway. So I keep my eyes closed in spite, mostly to hide the tears that would let him win.

Jaeger’s voice drops, lethal and dripping with malice. “I can give you what you want, Hadley, but don’t you ever cross me, do you understand?” His body presses against mine, chest to chest, lips brushing my ear.

“I can take everything away from you.”

A shiver crawls down my spine. I want him to leave, to get off me, so I nod even though I don’t mean it. He seems satisfied, so he slips the dagger back inside my bracer and kisses my lips, slow and gentle. “Promise you’ll think about the color scheme?” All traces of danger are now absent from his voice, and he releases me.

I nod slowly. “...I’ll see you at luncheon.”

I leave his room in a daze, ignoring my crown on his floor, leaving a shred of what I hope is evidence. 

I have to get away.