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   Chapter 212 No.212

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5032

Updated: 2018-07-12 12:03

He strode towards her. Amaia flinched as the soldier grabbed her roughly by her arm, pulling her to her feet. Outside in the corridor waited several more soldiers. Amaia was led down the passage, this time without a blindfold. She felt a mounting trepidation in her heart as they went. But her fear eased slightly as she felt a presence by her side, a light touch on her shoulder. White Feather was standing there, invisible to all but her; he tugged at her ear to keep himself balanced as Amaia was marched forwards by the guards, his little hand holding tightly onto her earlobe. Amaia felt comfort at having him by her side.

Amaia was taken through the dark and dank corridors and to a stairs that led to a place above them. Through the door at the top of the stairs, Amaia went, squinting and shielding her eyes from a sudden dazzling light that cast itself upon her and the soldiers around. Her eyes adjusted to the bright surroundings as she was shoved forwards by one of the soldiers, after a few seconds Amaia was able to see clearly all that was around her. The room she found herself in was large and had been built with great fortune and beauty. It reminded her a little of the halls she had spent many years of her life in, back in a time she had been waited on hand and foot by a host of servants, but never spoken to, never acknowledged, and always ignored. She had completely forgotten about her life in that place, that place she had spent twelve years. But on seeing these rooms, the memories suddenly flooded back to her.

Her confusion only mounted as she was led onwards, and she wondered in silence who could have taken her. Whoever it was that had imprisoned her, it must be a person of vast wealth, equal to, no, more so than the man who had imprisoned her before.

More so than the prince Tristan, the man who claimed to be her father.

More wealth than a prince? Amaia thought, eyes darting all around her, taking in every detail of the polished marble floors, the beautiful stained glass windows, the great chandlers above their heads, the wide stairs with blood-red carpets. Only a king she realised with shock. Oh gods…what's going to happen to me?

She was led through many rooms and into a great hall through a set of tall double doors. The soldiers that escorted her turned and left her suddenly, closing the doors behind them. White Feather instantly flew off Amaia's shoulders, regaining his usual size, though remaining invisible. He snarled instantly at the sight of a m

an standing before them facing them, a man who had been waiting for them inside the hall.

White Feather glared at him, with a look that Amaia had never seen before. It was one of pure hatred, anger and loathing.

'Do you know him?' Amaia whispered quietly to White Feather.

'Yes' White Feather hissed back. 'He is the one who killed the last Weather Maker I served.'

Amaia stared back at the king wide-eyed now. She was terrified.

'There is no need to speak secretly' the king said. 'I can see you. Both of you.'

Amaia drew a gasp of fear, White Feather became frozen.

'I can see you' the king repeated, staring straight at White Feather. 'You are young, lean, and have black hair.'

White Feather instantly paled.

'How is it' he spoke very slowly, '…that you can see me?'

The king narrowed his eyes.

'How do you have this ability?!' White Feather spoke louder now. 'I should be invisible to you, like I was last time I was before you.'

'A figure in a bird-mask gave me these abilities' the king replied sombrely. 'But it only works in this room.'

'What?' White Feather snapped. 'That makes no sense!'

'There is so much you do not know' the king said gliding away from him.

White Feather lowered his head, never taking his eyes off the king. 'And you' he said to him, 'do not know as much as you wish.'

'That is why, you are here to help me' the king smiled with cruelty. 'Girl' he said to Amaia. 'Come with me.'

White Feather's heart began to sink into despair as the king led Amaia to the end of the hall, and towards the woman he had become familiar with. The queen, forever sleeping. White Feather stuck close to Amaia as she followed the king, always just one step behind her.

'This is my wife the queen' the king spoke in a monotone. 'She wasn't my first wife, but she was my first love.' He turned to face Amaia. 'I want you to help her' he said.

Amaia stared down at the woman. Her cheeks were light in colour; her blonde hair was unnaturally bright and grew very long, like her nails. But her nails and hair were clean and washed and had been kept in order. The white dress she wore was clean and fresh. This body was cared for.

'Help her?' Amaia spoke weakly, as she gazed into the face of the sleeping queen. 'But how? What's wrong with her?'

'She has been sleeping for a very long time. I want you to wake her up.'

Amaia glanced at the king. 'I wouldn't know how.'

'If you don't make her better, I will make you suffer until you do.'

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