Chapter 13 – Rowan
ROWAN
The Kovari soldiers enter the tower with their blades drawn. The first man to enter eyes me suspiciously, holding his sword on me while whistling to the two men behind him to search the room.
The library located atop the west tower is small. Just a cozy little study with a view as far as the eye can see. Shelves filled with leather-bound books line the room. I’ve spent countless hours up here, alone, nestled in the cushions. My own private escape.
Having these men up here feels… wrong.
The way they move around the space, shoving things aside, knocking books to the floor… My fists tighten, and the man watching me lifts his sword a little higher, his cautious gaze shifting into a warning.
I hold my breath, schooling my face as one of them draws back the star map tapestry. To my relief, it reveals only a wall of solid, weathered stone—no trace of the sealed passage hidden within.
Not that they could open it even if they suspected. Humans don’t possess magic, but it is possible their Raven might. That power I felt…
The demon could do again what he had done to the castle wall, turning it to shadow, thereby allowing access. But to my relief, the man releases the tapestry, allowing it to swing back into place with no further regard.
“Just the fae wench, then,” the man to my right says, deferring to the older soldier, the one who still holds his blade on me. He’s the oldest of the three, his graying temples distinguishing him from the other two.
He’s fixing his eyes on something above my head.
My brow furrows in confusion before I curse silently to myself, remembering the wretched crown atop my head. The one Alita insisted I wear.
According to my governess, all three royal siblings were to wear their crowns today to serve as a symbol of our kingdom, which would provide reassurance to our people during the chaos of battle.
“This one’s highborn,” the man announces to the other two while his eyes drop to scan the rest of me. “Put her with the others.”
The two younger soldiers close in on me from either side, quickly securing my arms and roughly forcing my hands together. Cold iron snaps shut around my wrists, and with it, my connection to my magic falters.
They did their homework.
I hadn’t even considered reaching for my powers, nearly as afraid of them as I am of these men.
With my hands now secured in front of me, the men push me roughly toward the stairs, and we begin the long descent.
Halfway there, a slight shove at my shoulder causes me to lose my footing on the stairs.
I let out a yelp, sliding down several steps before a curve in the wall abruptly halts my fall.
My head spins from the impact, while I hear the men snickering above me. I shake my head to try to clear it, tasting blood on my lip. The skirt of my dress—another casualty—has torn several inches.
The men haul me back up on my feet without allowing me any time to properly recover, pushing me forward, and my feet once again slide dangerously on the stone steps. Anger flares, and I grit my teeth, fighting to keep my balance despite their best efforts.
The two handling me are brutish and muscled; their heavy armour would certainly slow them down if I could get away. I might be small, but I am quick. If I could slip out of their grasp, then I just might—
Any hope I’ve invested in the improvised plan goes up in flames the second they shove me out into the hall.
Soldiers.
Soldiers—everywhere.
The previously empty hallway is now crawling with Kovari soldiers.
I feel eyes on me as I’m pushed through the crowded halls.
Besides the volunteer guard, I must be one of the few fae to remain behind at Rosecliff.
The mysterious disappearance of the villagers and the rest of the court is certainly a source of both confusion and frustration I can see on the faces of the men we pass.
I attract more than a few curious looks as I’m pushed all the way into the great hall. Once there, I’m shoved rather unceremoniously to the ground.
My knees scream when they hit the floor hard, but I’m at least able to catch myself with my bound hands before my face smacks into the marble.
“Don’t get any ideas now,” one of the Kovari soldiers warns, leaving me with the others before stepping away to speak to someone else.
I look around, finding myself beside what must be the surviving members of Rosecliff’s castle guard—who also wait chained on their knees, accompanied by a handful of human servants.
Either they didn’t make it to the gates before Rosecliff sealed them, or they were too stubborn to leave.
The lot of them stare back at me, alarm and horror etched into every one of their faces at the sight of their princess amongst them.
Kovari soldiers are everywhere; several are to guard the small group of prisoners while the rest are busy breaking everything. The men toss vases and pottery alike, tearing through cabinets, smashing all that they come across, having already torn just about every tapestry from the walls.
Anger and rage give way to dark hatred as I watch them rip apart the only home I’ve ever known.
Without warning, silence falls upon the room, and the soldiers’ attention all snap to the arched entryway leading into the hall. I push myself up a little higher, craning my neck to try to see what they’re all looking at.
The men stiffen, standing at attention as a tall, battle-worn soldier stalks into the room, flanked by several men. Deep black armour sets them apart from the rest, and they lack the Kovari crest: a sword with white wings.
I lean forward, narrowing my eyes, as I quickly study their armour, noting it lacks any crest at all.
It’s clear the tall one in the middle is in charge—if the utter silence in the hall is any indication.
As he strides toward us, my eyes drop to the streaks of blood marring that sleek leather armour of his.
A blood-red cowl conceals the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of piercing eyes visible.
Black war paint adorns the rest of his face and scalp; the hair on either side of his head is shaved off.
This paint, or perhaps ink, continues down both arms. The dark ink, stained with blood, only adds to his menacing appearance.
His eyes scan the room, running over each one of the captured Sitari soldiers, and the servants, until his gaze comes to a rest.
Right on me.
I don’t even realize I’m staring until the Kovari soldier closest to me kicks me hard in the ribs. I wheeze, my lungs constricting, thankfully suffocating my cry as I curl in on myself, sharp pain radiating through me while I struggle to inhale.
Two shouts rise from the line of detained Rosecliff guards, protesting my mistreatment while I fight to regulate my breathing. My need for oxygen growing severe.
“Captain Rusic,” the graying Kovari soldier says, turning toward the newcomer.
I’m still bent over, struggling to breathe as my lungs refuse to expand completely. My gaze remains fixed on the floor until two boots enter my vision, stopping on the marble just ahead of me. I swallow hard.
“Line them up,” the captain commands, his voice deep and rough. I know it’s his with no need to look, a voice used to being obeyed.
The Kovari soldiers react with speed, roughly forcing the Sitari prisoners into some semblance of a line around me.
The captain’s boots remain in front of me, and despite every instinct screaming at me to keep my head down, my eyes lift.
This is it.
I’m going to die. Right here. Right now. But I won’t go out a coward.
Setting my jaw, I fight the urge to drop my eyes as I stare up into cold and empty eyes.
Captain Rusic holds my gaze for a long moment before turning to survey the full line of prisoners.
His gaze circles back around, lingering on me for half a breath longer than the others before he turns, looking away while addressing his soldiers.
“Take the humans,” his deep voice commands before his eyes fall back to mine again. “And execute the fae.”
The response is instantaneous. Soldiers raise their swords, but a frantic, shrill voice breaks through; it’s coming from the end of the line. “Princess! Princess! Please!” the woman pleads. “She’s the princess!”
No. In horror, my eyes fly to locate the speaker, recognizing Ellory—human, and one of my lady’s maids. She’s frantically motioning in my direction, desperately trying to capture Rusic’s attention, but really anyone who might listen.
But no one does. Rusic’s back is already to us as she pleads louder with the retreating captain, standing and resisting the soldiers as they try to drag her off with the rest of the captured human servants.
I shake my head subtly, my gaze flying between her and the captain. No, no. I desperately try to tell Ellory to let it go in silence.
Just let me die here.
Now.
Clean.
My eyes are still on Ellory when silence falls again, the Kovari soldiers stilling around us. Swallowing hard, I whip my head back to face the captain. He’s turned around, a quiet look of rage on his face, one hand held up as he moves in to assess the woman, the movement predatory.
Ellory, now fully aware he’s heard her, falls silent at his menacing approach, swallowing hard under his furious gaze before he turns it on me.
Rusic doesn’t speak as he takes me in again, looking me up and down, my heart thumps wildly in my chest, nearly stopping entirely when his gaze settles on the crown.
When he still says nothing, the man beside him, one also dressed in black like him, speaks up. “Can anyone else confirm this fae to be a Sitari royal?”
I close my eyes.
There’s a long stretch of silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop in this crowded hall right before the entire line of Sitari soldiers and servants pipe up their reluctant confirmations.
My eyes open, resigned—and unable to keep from glaring back at the well-meaning betrayal. They’re trying to save my life, but—no, no, no, no. This—this isn’t good.
My eyes slowly trail back to Captain Rusic, and then to Ellory behind him; her eyes are full of both desperation and apology. I’m sure she had hoped to save my life, but hadn’t quite thought through what might happen after.
Another beat of uncomfortable silence, and then, “Bring her,” Rusic states simply, already turning and heading back toward the hall while he adds, “You know what to do with the rest.”
There’s a flurry of movement; the two soldiers who were flanking him step forward, grabbing hold of me and dragging me up while I scream, trying to fight them off.
The Kovari soldiers move in as one, swords drawn. Some of them shove the human servants away roughly as they scream in protest, while the others bring their swords down, driving them through each of Rosecliff’s guards, brutally executing them.
I twist and fight, but the men holding me are strong, and though they struggle to keep hold of me, I’m out of the room before the last of the royal guard is dead. The screams follow me out into the hall, growing rougher until I realize… the screams are coming from me.