Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) Read Free Page A

familiar insult, one she’d heard countless times over the years. I understand . Ana is perfect; I’m not. Thank you for reminding me yet again.
    He paused to sling his cape over one shoulder. “You hav e exactly fifteen minutes. The d uke wants you there on time for once. I will send for Ursa.” Then he stalked down the hall and faded into the shadows.
    As he rattled away, her chest tightened from trying to contain the emotions fighting inside her: embarrassment, shame, envy, rage, despair. She rolled up h er sleeve and looked at her arm; purple imprints of large fingers were beginning to rise.
    She ran the last few feet to her chambers , flung open the door, and slammed it shut with a cry of frustrati on. The room was black as pitch; apparently no servants had been by to light any candles. In an odd way, it was comforting because there was neither sight nor sound, only her.
    Falling against the door, she sank to the floor, cradling her br uised arm as she did to keep it still. With delicate movements, she rubbed it with her free hand, trying to soothe the throbbing.
    You’ll never be Ana-Elise.                
    She was sick of it, all of it. The palace, the court, the weight of her identity. The air felt thin as her chest constricted and her breath quickened with the first pinpricks of hot tears.
    I have to get out of here.
    Her vision blurred. The sensation startled her; she had not cried in so long she had nearly forgotten what it was like. Weakness of any kind made one much too vulnerable for the Court of Night, and she had long since learned to bury her pain and put on an indifferent front.
    She rubbed her eyes, as if she could keep the tears inside if she pressed hard enough. Though it felt strange to cry, she couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. It’s too much. Why not let it happen ? You are alone , after all .
    She drew up her knees and gingerly wrapped her arms around them. Then she laid her head down on the fold of her good arm and stopped fighting it. The tears formed a stream down her arms and dripped from her fingertips, washing away her emotions until she didn’t really feel anything at all. She was so consumed by her grief that she almost missed it.
    Ching, ching, ching.              
    It came from beside her, where the tears raining from her fingertips pooled on the floor. It was like the world had stopped so that little sound could be heard. It was metallic but with overtones and harmonies. The object bounced one last time before settling in front of her.
    She scanned the floor , and her eyes widened.
    A delicate chain of woven crystal lay sprawled at her feet. Secured to the band was a single teardrop encased in a web of gold spirals. The teardrop swirled with streaks of white light, throwing rainbows onto the walls and reflecting back onto her awestruck face. She wondered if this was what sunlight looked like.
    There were stories of magic, of crafts dead and forgotten, but the only people who believed in such things were the foolish and the insane. Maybe that was why magic only revealed itself to people like that, because it knew no one would believe them. Maybe she was losing her mind.  She smiled and shook her head. Perhaps insanity wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe then the courtiers would leave me alone.
    With trembling fingers, she reached down and cupped it gently in the palm of her hand. The moment she touched it, it was as if a veil had been lifted, driving away the darkness inside her until there was only hope and peace. It was warm, and its faint light pulsed with the beat of her heart.
    Slowly, she smiled. 
    Mine.
    She clasped it to her heart. Where had it come from? Had a chambermaid dropped it? Was it stolen, someone’s heirloom perhaps? It couldn’t have simply “appeared. ” It had to belong to someone… b ut what if it didn’t? What if it were somehow, irrationally, meant for her ?
    She shook her head. S omeone was most likely missing it right this