Underground Royals — Prologue and Chapter 1

“Come on Bella! Don’t let him recover!” My uncle instructs from the sidelines.

My opponent lunges at me and I duck to the ground before dashing towards his head and pushing it down. While he is disoriented I lay punch after punch on his stomach, forcing him to bend further, before hooking my elbow between his head and his neck and twisting my small body, causing him to fall bellow me.

Just as I’m about to deliver my final blow he punches back, sending me reeling towards the nylon ropes surrounding us. I hold my ground and punch his face, my ring — the Sterling ring — leaves a bloody cut running from his cheekbone to his chin. I kick my boot into his rib for good measure before standing and wiping the blood off my hands. I would have done worse, but he was one of my uncle’s body guards and he wouldn’t be happy if I returned him handicapped.

I walk out of the ring with my head held high and a proud smirk on my face. My uncle claps his hand on my back, in a rare display of affection, before turning me around to examine any injuries. However, besides some blood stains here and there, I had no other visible tokens from the fight. It was after all how I was trained: to be sneaky, insipid, the best… to kill.

“You’re improving Bella, but I saw the hesitation in your eyes. Never hesitate. It could be the difference between survival and death.” My uncle reminds me solemnly, before turning away and leaving me alone.

I silently curse him before rolling my eyes. My uncle is a firm believer in the fact that nothing is ever perfect and that there is always room for improvement, but I always find myself hoping for a little more positive reaction after a good fight.

I’m lead out of the basement which had been fashioned into my own personal training facility, by my old governess who instructs me to take a shower before I start the rest of my day.

CHAPTER 1

“Isolabella, may I borrow you for a moment?” my uncle calls from his study, his voice resonating through the empty manor. I cringe involuntarily at his use of my full name which was unnecessarily formal given no one else was at home. I am currently tucked away in the parlour just in front of his study reading his pick of the day; Robert Greene’s “The Art of Seduction”. Perhaps not every uncle’s dream book for their 15 year old niece, but one that has become what I’d call a rite of passage among the women of my “family”.

I use the term loosely because my “family” encompasses more associates of my blood than blood relatives. I’ve been an orphan since the second I was born, so I have no recollections of what it’s like to have parents; a normal family. I like to think of it as a mercy. If I did have memories, I would never be content with the life I have now. But I know no better.

“Isolabella!” My uncle calls again, all patience evaporating from his tone. I quickly finish the page I’m skimming and snap the book closed. Laying the book on the side table, I stand up with my back straight, my shoulders high, and my head held higher, poised like an heiress should be.

“Coming Alfred!” I call as I hurry down the hall. The furniture in my uncle’s study, like all the furniture in the Manor had a simplicity and a flare to it all at once, with expensive leather couches and tall walls of ancient volumes, which admittedly, are more for decoration than anything else. It had dark wood floors, the colour of the earth after lots of rain, and a large imposing desk in the centre, where my uncle was presently pouring over his computer.

I knock gently on the doorframe, loud enough to make a noise but not forcefully enough for him to suggest I was giving him attitude. He looks up, acknowledging my presence with a small rigid smile before signalling to the chair across from his table.

“Please sit Bella. There is lots we must talk about today.” I nod, unsure of what conversation was about to ensue. I ran over anything improper I had done over the past week. Playing with the help, that was a big one, though Alfred rarely minded. Swimming in the lake? Perhaps that was it, though I saw no issue with it given we — really I — owned the lake. “How is your reading coming along my dear?” He asks, somewhat absentmindedly as he flicks through some envelopes in his hands. My family and its associates often prefer to communicate in hand-written letters. They’re harder to trace.

“Half way through,” I say, as a little grin tugs at the corners of my painted lips. Once a day for as long as I could read my uncle would assign me a book from the library and then he would test me on it to see what I had learnt. He always made it a point to remind me that our power didn’t lie solely in our wealth or physical strength, but in our knowledge and intellect, for without them other powers are useless. My Uncle also valued the ability to be multilingual, and so under his tutelage I learnt Italian, Latin, Spanish and some Mandarin.

“My dear I’ve called you here for something you may not like, but must learn to accept.” He said, a light frown taking over his features. I gulped. My uncle rarely exaggerated, so if he thought I may dislike this news, it was likely to be true and very bad. “I have made the decision to enrol you at Rubion College.” He says with finality.

My eyes widen in recognition as I feel excitement bubble in my chest. Rubion was a boarding school in the highlands, where most of my “family” and its associates currently attended. It was not among one of the many institutions we “owned” but rather one we infiltrated. The school was elite, academically and socially, and thus was the home to the children of most diplomats, officials and socialites. It was the perfect breeding ground for information, rumours, betrayal and most importantly, in our case, power. “If it was up to me, I would keep you here as long as possible, but you know as well as I do that going to Rubion is tradition. Your grandfather would be turning over in his grave if I didn’t send you, at least for your last four years, not to mention your parents and the long line of -”

“Sterlings before me, Alfred, I know.” He shoots me a glare due to the interruption but nods.

“So you agree?” He replies, a hint of shock, or perhaps, relief in his voice.

“Of course I agree!” I respond, letting a laugh escape my lips as I hold back the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. I had been dreaming of going to Rubion ever since I could remember. Now I would finally be with my friends all the time instead of just during break, and, though I would never admit it to my uncle, leaving his hawklike gaze would be somewhat freeing. I let a small smile remain on my lips as I think of how excited my friends would be at the news.

Before I could say anything else, he thrusts an envelope into my hands. I sit back down and look to my lap, my hands clutching the letter. It definitely isn’t from Celestria gushing about her Christmas getaway in an exotic Greek island or Thorne complaining about how his mother was buying me far too many gifts and reprimanding me for not coming. And it certainly isn’t a letter from Daemon, because he always remembered to use a pink wax seal in his letters to me, it being my favourite colour and all. This envelope is black with an officious red seal, emblazoned with the Rubion college logo.

I open it firmly, because apprehension is a sign of weakness, forcefully pulling out the printed letter inside. It’s an introduction to the school which I skim briefly before my eyes land on the start of the new term, which is only 2 weeks away.

“Now, I’m sure you would like to share the news with your friends-” My uncle starts, watching my reaction curiously.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I nodded furiously.

“And you will-” He starts.

“When!?”

“Well if you stopped cutting me off I could tell you couldn’t I?” He groans, his nose turning up. I mumble a sorry before he continues. “You can tell them tomorrow at the ball.” My eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets as I silently curse.