Free Magna's Plea (The Fate Challenges) by Cherie Reich

Amora
    12-13 Days of Luquiry
    Year 1717 AUC
     
    Tendrils of smoke swirled heavenward. The smoldering stench reached Princess Magna at the top of the palace’s northern tower. She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant odor, yet it still smelled better than the filth plaguing the besieged seven-hilled city.
    She’d vowed to protect Amora. Her heart shattered a little more each day at the devastation afflicting her kingdom.
    The once grassy and flower-filled plain sprouted dust plumes from the trampling feet. As the sun neared the western horizon, a bloody hue washed over the battlefield. Tiny, metallic dins and men’s shouts rang out. Magical bursts flashed in the sky like Thean’s lightning, beautiful and deadly. A wooden catapult hurled a human-sized stone slab into the city’s wall. Magna jerked away from the opened window she stood before, as if the object had struck her instead. Rock crumbled from the impact, but the barrier held.
    When the reddish orb sank lower, the fighting ceased. War’s chaos parted into two orderly sides, and soldiers crossed the field to gather their dead.
    She brushed a shaky hand over her cheeks. Tears dampened her face, and she struggled to turn away from the battle before her. Almost two months had passed since the Apenthans had begun their attack Amora. How much longer could the Amorans—she—stay safe behind their impenetrable wall?
    “There you are, Princess. The queen ’as been searchin’ for you.” Fava, her personal servant, curtsied and motioned toward the battlefield. “Queen Vyvian doesn’t wish for you to watch.”
    “I’m well aware of Mother’s wishes.” As if Magna needed to be reminded. Every day she wanted to help with the battle, but her mother refused and kept her imprisoned within the city. She lifted the hood of her cloak to hide another wayward tear. Her long strides took her away from the window—the horror. “Why is she searching for me?”
    Fava scurried after her mistress. “The usual, Princess. She wishes for the queen’s ’eir to be by ’er side when the king-consort and princes arrive from the battlefield.”
    Magna trailed her fingertips along the railing as she hurried down the winding stone staircase. Her lips parted, but she held her retort. She trusted Fava, but Magna couldn’t allow word of her dissent to run rampant in the kingdom, especially when they were at war with the Kingdom of Apentha.
    After they slipped through the palace’s hidden passageways, Magna paused, unfastened her cloak, and handed it to Fava. “Wait here for me, Fava.”
    “As you wish.” Fava draped the cloak over her arm.
    Magna smoothed down her dress and ran her fingers through her hair. Kisa forbid if she look a mess for the queen! As satisfied with her appearance as she could be without a looking glass, she entered the throne room.
    Her mother perched upon a wooden, unadorned throne set on a raised dais. Two guards remained by her side while several more flanked the double doors. They awaited the arrival of the soldiers from Bella’s Field.
    Magna suffered a glance toward the Wall of Queens. One day, her picture would flank the great monarchs, including the city’s namesake, the Phoenix-Queen Amora. Could she ever live up to the standards set before her? When she reached the dais, she bowed her head in respect toward her mother and took her place on her right side. “Good evening, Mother.”
    “You’re late. It’s not befitting of the queen’s heir to squander her time watching war.”
    “I’d rather be participating.” A flush burned Magna’s cheeks. “I don’t mean to be difficult. Queens used to fight alongside our people in battle. We Royals practiced our magic. We’ve fallen far from the old ways,” she whispered.
    “Our kingdom needs the queen and her heir to survive. If we lose the war, disaster would befall us.” Her mother’s jaw clenched. Were there a few more white hairs streaking the black? Mother’s cold, bony hand grasped