Chapter 13 of 36

Chapter 9 - Glowing Amber Eyes

Nest Of Serpents3,738 words~19 min read

“They broke the road behind me—

and my only way out was into the dark.”

-Nest Of Serpests

by E.S.Mare

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We had been walking for hours—so long that even the mud caked on my skin had dried to a brittle crust.

Our escape from the Serpent Mountains forced us through a treacherous swamp—an unforgiving maze of mud and decay. If you knew where to step, you could find the exit. We'd nearly sunk more than once before we discovered the right path. Back then, it was thrilling—but as we grew, we learned to choose safer routes. Well, at least I did. I was always the one sneaking out of the palace, anyway.

We’d been walking for days, stopping long enough to steal two horses and some clothes from a village. Vilas had taken my cloak too. Without it, the cold bit deeper. The horses were restless, too—it had taken hours before they accepted us, delaying our path toward warmer soil.

We were exhausted...

We’d barely stopped to rest.

There hadn’t been a single chance to clean off the dirt.

The mud from the swamp inside Lesster Mountain clung to us. Then came the rain—heavy enough to wash it away. But the moment we crossed the border, we were covered in mud again.

Vilas’s secret crossing?

Another swamp.

Borders were always heavily guarded, but Vilas being a former soldier had its perks. He had once been stationed at this very border in case of war and knew where to slip through unnoticed. And so, though we were wet and filthy, we had left the Serpent Lands.

We basked in that triumph—briefly. Now, the cold was creeping into my bones. If only my cloak hadn’t been soaked… it might have shielded me just a little. Then there were the wounds on my back, growing more painful with each step. And the burns on my arms—those, at least, felt strangely comforting.

When the mark started bothering me, I had burned my wrists with fire from our camp before Vilas could stop me. He’d been furious. He had snapped—but hadn’t pushed further. I knew he was angrier with himself than with me.

I tore my wedding dress into strips and bound them tight around my scorched wrists. Then I had donned the stolen clothes, and fed the wedding dress to the fire. Watching the flames consume the fabric, a bitter satisfaction curled in my chest—like burning away not just cloth, but chains.

Vilas had watched from the corner of his eye, saying nothing. He’d only asked why I’d burned both wrists.

I’d told him it was a precaution.

If word spread that the princess vanished after the wedding, it would be all over the kingdom within days. If we were still within White Serpent territory by then, we’d be hunted. One burn over the marriage mark would raise suspicion, but two could be passed off as something else.

For instance: some prisoners were shackled with iron brands heated in fire. Some women had burned themselves on purpose—just to avoid the fate of the slave markets.

Beauty was the only price that mattered. Snakes feared fire—and scars from it were seen as signs of defiance, even madness. No man wanted a madwoman. If a slave was to be bought—especially a woman—obedience mattered above all. Of course, some filth among the Serpents enjoyed such women. And sometimes even burning yourself wasn’t enough.

I had seen it with my own eyes.

She couldn’t have been older than sixteen—barely more than a child. They had displayed her like a prize, standing on a wooden crate in the middle of the market, her wrists bound, her eyes hollow. As if she were something to be bargained over, not someone to be saved. The man who bought her had laughed as he dragged her away by the arm, as if he’d just made a good bargain.

If Vilas hadn’t held me back, I’d have killed that man where he stood.

Her screams haunted my sleep, her suffering etched into my mind—a weight that refused to lift, a guilt that clawed at my heart. She returned to me then, as the fire bit into my skin.

Now, the marks on my wrists carried the memory of a slave—

and perhaps now, of a dead girl too.

We’d been walking through the Black Dream Forest for hours. The moon barely filtered through the pale, whispering trees. It felt as though the forest itself was warning us: we did not belong.

Truth was, we belonged nowhere after today.

Vilas walked beside me, lost in thought. No doubt reflecting on what I had told him—about the wedding, about everything we had done to escape. He had tried to joke about it, but the guilt showed in his eyes as he bandaged my wrist.

I thought I’d never see the prince again—but I was still married. And no matter how well I hid it, the mark would remain—a vow carved into flesh, undone only by death’s cold grip.

I wondered what weddings were like in other realms. I had never left my kingdom. Even the few times I had wandered beyond, it had been in secrecy—and always brief.

Not that I would have been welcome elsewhere. The other races hated us. Some hated each other as well, but at least they had allies. The Crocodiles of the Sea despised all land races—but were friends to other water folk. The Scorpions of the Desert hated everyone but the Spiders, and both loathed the Eagles. The Eagles, rulers of the skies, loved none but the Lions of the Forest. The Lions? They hated the Crocodiles. And the Snakes. Especially the Snakes.

And we... we were children of the soil—torn by our own blood. We learned to hate our own kind before we learned to hate the others. But if a Lion crossed our path, we would unite with even the Black Snakes we despised, fighting together until the Lion lay dead. Then the truce would shatter, and the bloodletting would begin anew. This was why no one dared to attack us—despite our divisions. Even fragmented, we were strong. United, we were dangerous.

We had no allies. Only enemies.

Once, long ago, there had been Dragons.

They were our only friends. They belonged to both Earth and Sky. The Lions wiped them out, with the Eagles soaring in support. Their lands were dust now—The Barren Lands. My mother told me the tale. The Lions planned the war down to the final detail. The Dragons stood no chance. Their only friends—the Snakes—had tried to help. But when our own land was threatened, we withdrew. The Queen told me it was a noble sacrifice. But I had read the truth in her eyes.

The Snakes used the war to grow stronger.

Those stories were written to win hearts—but they were nothing but lies. The court was ruthless. Always had been. And I… I could not judge them. What difference would it make? The ones who could hold them accountable were already dead.

That was the only truth.

When Vilas stopped, so did I. My legs were burning. My back—worse. The medicine had long worn off. I had rationed out the last of the snake grass, but now it was gone. The pain was building. I clenched my teeth, hiding it from Vilas. If he knew, he’d insist we stop—or worse, go back for more herbs.

We couldn’t afford that. We had to reach Scorpion territory. Fast. We had to keep moving. The Scorpions were dangerous too. We wouldn’t be safe until we reached the Neutral Lands.

When Vilas suddenly stopped, I asked, “Is there a problem?”

He looked around. Once. Twice. Then turned to me, brow furrowed.

“I think…” he said slowly, “we’ve been walking in circles.”

“No,” I whispered. “Don’t do this to me.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, rubbing his face with both hands. Mud clung to him just as it did to me, and the exhaustion on his face mirrored mine. “I’m certain we passed that same tree minutes ago.”

I shivered, hugging myself. “All the trees look the same in this place.”

He turned to me. Seeing the cold trembling in my shoulders, he said, “Let’s build a fire. We’ll move again when the sun rises.”

I wanted to argue. But warmth and sleep clung to my skin like a curse, dulling my protest. “Alright,” I gave in, sinking to the ground. Vilas shot me a look—half scolding, half resigned—but said nothing as he started gathering branches. Soon, the fire came to life. I crept closer to him, the heat licking my skin and coaxing a sigh from my lips. My stomach grumbled, competing with the hum of insects.

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“I’m starving,” I muttered. “If we don’t find food soon, I might just roast you.”

“I’ve no doubt,” he said dryly.

“But on the first day of our freedom, I’ll spare you.”

“I’m honored, my lady.”

I smiled faintly, stretching my fingers toward the fire. When the heat began to sting my wrists, I lowered my hands to my lap. Of course, he noticed.

“Your wrists?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

He sighed but didn’t press. “We should check your back.”

“Let’s just rest for a bit,” I murmured. If he saw the wounds, he’d only get upset. “Even if you looked, there’s nothing you could do. We have no medicine. Not even snake grass.”

“Turn around, Assra.”

I groaned and tried to lean against him, but he held me still and turned me with firm hands. My cloak fell to the ground, and the fire’s warmth crept closer. He lifted the back of my tunic and hissed a curse.

“This is… For the love of the Sovereigns! How did you bear this?”

“I’m fine,” I muttered.

“You’re not!”

“Vilas,” I said, turning to face him. “Truly. I’m fine.”

“I need to find snake grass,” he said, pushing himself up.

I grabbed his arm. “Not now. You can’t even see the ground beneath you. We’ll search when the darkness finally breaks.”

He scanned the darkness as if it might bend to his will. His silence betrayed his agreement, no matter how reluctant. Snake grass was rare in Scorpion lands. Searching now would be pointless. Still, he looked ready to go. So I laid my head on his knee, to keep him from leaving. “Braid my hair.”

The servants had always hurt me when they braided it. That’s why Vilas learned—so he could do it himself. I never told my mother. If I had, she would’ve had them killed. Maybe the ones who replaced them wouldn’t have hurt me, but... back then, I still had a softer heart. I didn’t want anyone to die.

But my heart had hardened since then—probably because of her.

And I was grateful.

Otherwise... I’d never have made such a plan, never have escaped.

“Your hair’s full of mud,” Vilas grumbled. Still, his hands moved gently through it, never pulling, never hurting. Unlike the servants, Vilas had never hurt me—he never would.

I stretched out farther. “My face is a mess too. You must be miserable not being able to kiss me.”

“Sleep, Assra.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know where we are,” he admitted.

I didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault we’d lost our way. He had only been assigned to the border. Crossing it was another matter entirely. This was his first time. Of course he wasn’t perfect—no one was, their first time. And he’d already done so much. He was tired.

“I’ll keep watch,” he said. “But when we find shelter, I wash first. And I sleep first.”

I smiled, knowing he wouldn’t. “Deal.”

I curled up, ignoring the ache from my wounds, letting the fire lull me. When Vilas draped his cloak over me, I chuckled sleepily. “Prince,” I muttered, “he must be losing his mind looking for me. Surely, the palace is in elegant disarray.”

“He won’t stop until he finds you,” Vilas said.

“Well, good luck to him. I’d rather die than go back.”

“You won’t go back,” he said fiercely. “Don’t speak such nonsense.”

“I know.” I looked at him through the fire’s flickering veil. He lowered his gaze. “From now on, Vilas, we’re either free… or we’re dead.”

He breathed in slowly and stared into the flames. “Aren’t you worried about your brothers?”

“A little,” I admitted. “But the prince can’t touch them. He probably thinks Father kidnapped me. The king and queen will protect their children—for now.”

“And if they can’t?”

I didn’t answer. “Too soon to think about that.”

“What about Alissa? Where do you think she is?”

I didn’t want to think about her, because she hadn’t thought about me. While I worried for her, she made her plans in silence. She kept them from me. She met my eyes—and said nothing. She left me in the fire. And ran.

Alissa hadn’t thought of me. Not once.

These days, even Teressa comes to mind more easily than her. That’s how far gone I am.

Vilas turned to me. “Don’t you want to find her?”

“No,” I said with my eyes closed.

Because if I found her, I might kill her, or at least try.

It was better not to look.

She had chosen her path. I would walk mine.

Just think of yourself.

And I was.

Just as the queen had said.

And maybe… a little of me was thinking of Vilas.

“Why?” he asked again. “Do you blame her for running? Maybe the queen forced her to. But if Alissa had known what your mother had planned for you—she wouldn’t have run. She never would’ve left you. And you... you’re the one who always gives people a second chance.”

A second chance...

I gave one to Missla. Even after she spat on me in my own room, I waited for her to return. That wait filled me with hope, somehow—I never had friends. My siblings kept their distance. Missla might’ve been a friend. But she wasn’t. She spat on me again. Then ran.

And wasted her second chance.

I gave my mother one, too. She turned her back while I rotted in captivity—and still, I offered her that second chance.

She used it to push me into a prettier cage.

And Alissa?

She ruined her first when she wouldn’t let me take her.

Now, I carry the burden of her second around my wrist.

Maybe I should never have believed in second chances.

Vilas was only guessing. Because I hadn’t told him about the letter. Or about what my mother had said. I didn’t want him to feel the way I did. He didn’t know them—and I didn’t want him to. Truth is, I never really knew them, too.

Not my mother.

Not the sister who stabbed me in the back.

I only thought I did.

I’m sorry, sister, but I can’t. This is the right path for both of us. You’ll be a happy queen. May you find peace...

Her choice had been simple. My mother offered her a crown—or a way out. She picked the second. I didn’t blame her for that. I blamed her for fearing the escape I gave her. My mother promised safety. I didn’t.

But I would’ve risked everything for her.

She wouldn’t do the same for me.

She’d thrown me into the fire to save herself.

She didn’t just leave—she chose survival over loyalty.

“Maybe one day I’ll look for her,” I lied. Otherwise, Vilas would keep pressing. It was enough to stop him asking.

We sat in silence, listening to the fire crackle.

Owls called through the trees. The forest exhaled.

“Vilas…” I murmured.

He grunted softly in reply.

“Why did you give up your life for me?”

He didn’t answer at first. He took a long, heavy breath—closer to a sigh.

“Because,” he said at last, “there is nothing worth fighting for—except you. A kingdom, a patch of land, a slice of bread, a breath drawn in freedom… You are all of it.”

I almost smiled.

His words carried a weight—heavy and familiar, like a burden I had long borne myself.

Because the same was true for me.

A kingdom,

a patch of land,

a slice of bread,

a breath drawn in freedom…

All of it was him. It had always been him.

“Promise me,” I said, my voice suddenly sharp. “Even if one of us dies, the other must keep fighting for freedom. Swear it.”

He hesitated. But when Vilas made a promise, he meant it.

“I promise,” he said at last. “From this moment on, it’s freedom—or death.”

“No looking back, no mourning the past. We forget who we were—and begin again. A new life. A free one.”

“Promise,” he repeated.

“To our new life,” I whispered with a smile.

“To our new life,” he echoed.

A yawn broke my smile, no matter how I clung to it. “Then kiss me.”

His smile faded instantly. He slapped a hand over my mouth. “Hush. Go to sleep.”

⚔️

The fire’s warmth had long faded, yet sunlight danced across my skin, warm and alive. And even as pain coiled through my back, each breath I drew felt fresher than the last—untouched by chains, unclaimed by fear.

It was the first time I felt truly alive.

And I was free.

No longer bound to the Snake Lands.

I opened my eyes to freedom. Blue sky stretched above me, cradled by the green of the trees. And then—

The glint of a sword.

My brows drew together. I started to sit up, but a hand was faster—it yanked me up, hard. I reached for my sword, but it was gone. My wrists were wrenched back, held in an unyielding grip. Agony shot through the burns on my skin; the wounds had been flayed deep.

This was not where Vilas had lit the fire.

I was between two rocks now—he must have carried me here while I slept. Fallen leaves scattered across the earth, as if he had tried to cover me. Perhaps he sensed danger.

But where was he now?

He wasn’t here.

Instead—

Three figures. One woman. Two men.

Three Lions.

The one in the center stepped forward.

Wavy dark hair. Amber eyes. Every stride loud and deliberate, like thunder—he was Lion, through and through.

But what were Lions doing in Scorpion lands?

My eyes scanned the terrain. No sign of Vilas.

Had they taken him too?

Better to stay silent. I watched as the Lion closed the space between us. He knelt, studying my dirt-smeared face. The light caught his golden gaze—it glowed too brightly, like metal polished to an unnatural shine.

Sickening. That’s what Lions were.

“Snake,” he said, with disgust.

I narrowed my eyes, fighting the hiss coiling in my throat.

The one behind me—undoubtedly another Lion—tightened his grip until my wrists burned with pain.

If he’d eased it even for a breath, my hands would’ve been around that yellow-eyed lion in front of me.

But I endured it. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

The Lion tilted his head toward his shoulder, studying my face. The woman and the other man were watching me with the same revulsion smeared across their faces.

“A snake foolish enough to wander into a lion’s den,” he muttered.

I locked eyes with him.

Vilas, you bastard. Did you lead us into Lion territory?

Where in the blazes are you now?

“Why are you here, reptile?” he asked, disdain curling in his voice. “What purpose brought you?”

I gave no answer.

He grabbed my chin. Not hard. But with just enough weight to remind me that if he wanted to, he could shatter bone.

“I won’t ask again,” he growled. “What would bring a Snake here?”

A Snake.

So they hadn’t caught Vilas, then.

Then where was he?

“Answer,” the Lion barked.

“Perhaps he doesn’t know our tongue,” the woman said.

I did. The Lion tongue was the common one—like the backbone of speech across the lands. Most races understood it, though not all spoke it fluently. I did. Fluently, as if it had been carved into my tongue. But that didn’t mean I liked it. I hated everything about Lions—their words included.

“He knows,” said the golden-eyed one.

He had watched my reaction. Clever. Disgustingly clever.

“Did the word reptile offend you, Snake? Is that not what you are?”

His grip on my chin tightened when I didn’t answer.

“Speak,” he ordered. “Or—”

“Or what?” I forced a smile, despite the taste of bile his voice left in my mouth, despite the pain clawing at my back. “Will you strike a woman? And here I thought you called yourselves noble.”

He continued to study me, eyes gleaming like sunlit venom. “If you weren’t bound, you’d be lunging at my throat already.”

I curled my lip. “You’re not a woman,” I muttered. “Or are you?”

“What are you doing on my land?” he asked, voice low, hoarse. “Are you the King’s spy?”

“If I were do you truly think I’d admit it?” I softened my voice with a voice laced with venomous charm. “Hello, Purring Beast. I’m a Snake spy. Care to hand over some secrets so I can make my king proud?”

The black-haired boy behind him laughed.

I saw it then—raised ridges along his back. Wings.

An Eagle.

Not a Lion at all.

The Lioness shot him a look, but the eagle only grinned wider.

“Either you’ve no idea the kind of trouble you’re in,” said the man behind me, speaking for the first time, “or you’re both too brave and too stupid to realize it.”

Vilas, I swear—I’ll kill you for vanishing on the very first day of our so-called new life.

“Then unbind me, and I’ll recount all my other foolish deeds—while I tear you apart.”

“Both,” he muttered. His voice was grave. He wanted to kill me.

But he wouldn’t, not yet. Not without the kitten’s command.

The kitten with the yellow eyes.

And the kitten smiled.

The kind of smile predators wear when prey stops running.

“Then let us show her just how deep she’s stepped into her grave,” he said.

My hands were suddenly free.

But the burst of pain in my neck came fast—so fast it cut my world loose from its tether and drowned the light.

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