Chapter 9 #2
I tried to consider everyone in the castle. Who could possibly want to invite a Tenebranian army to invade Ornath? My mind came up blank. Why would anyone do such a thing? What kind of madness could drive someone to betray us?
The list of suspects was overwhelming to say the least: the entire guard, the council members and their families, the kitchen staff, handmaidens, laundresses, stable hands, butlers, servants, the members of the court, and even the royal family.
Hundreds of people. How could I even begin to narrow it down?
Exhaling deeply, I pinched the bridge of my nose, partly from pressure and stress, partly from a desire for a release. “Alright. Let’s start interviewing as many people as possible. Maybe we’ll find a lead.”
Tempal, as well as the other guards, nodded and exited the dungeon through the staircase, but I didn’t watch them leave.
Instead, I rested my forehead against the cold, dingy wall and took slow, deep breaths as I did my best to calm my racing heart.
A million thoughts and scenarios ran through my mind.
I was now hunting a traitor.
It was after lunchtime when I made my way to Jane’s chambers to inform her that, despite our argument yesterday, she was still expected to train with me (even though she was terrible at it). As I approached her door, I noticed she had been assigned a different pair of guards than before.
A knot formed in my stomach as the world moved in slow motion.
“You two, where are Baskin and Emerik?” I demanded, channeling all the authority I could muster as Captain of the Castle Guard.
The two men traded a tense look before the one on the left nudged the other forward. “Erm…” He quivered, bowing his head in shame. “They were executed this morning, My Prince.”
My jaw dropped from the unanticipated blow. “What— Who—who ordered this?”
The guard peeked back at his companion, searching for some sort of backup, but the other remained at his post, refusing to make eye contact with me. “King Remaculus,” the guard on the right said, standing tall despite his trembling lip.
My mind raced to comprehend why the two men had been put to death. What on Ornath could the men have done to send my father into such a frenzy? Then it hit me like the blast of a cannon: it was all my fault.
Last night, before dinner, I had informed the men that they could take leave and that I would escort Jane the rest of the way. When she left the dining room without warning, she was unprotected and vulnerable. They had failed to guard the Last Daughter of Domus from the Tenebranian intruder.
Two men were dead because of me. Amantius, forgive me.
Guilt swarmed me, leaving me unable to articulate a single word. These were my guards that I had let down. My reckless decisions had led to their deaths at the hand of my father.
Forcing myself to nod in acceptance, feigning a blind compliance with the king’s decision, I stood as tall as I could in that moment, though the weight of my insufferable frame felt like a thousand pounds.
I was the Captain of the Castle Guard. I was expected to follow the king’s orders without fault.
Although I could not disguise the uncontrollable flaring of my nostrils as I gritted my teeth, doing my best to suppress a scream of powerlessness.
The anguish I felt was fuelled into a frenzied fury as I pushed past the guards and knocked on Jane’s door. When I received no answer, I pounded harder, my knuckles rapping against the wood so hard that splinters threatened to cut through my skin. Still, there was only silence on the other side.
With shame billowing through me like a sea of flames, I banged my fist against the door, a much-needed distraction. That was when I heard her voice, laced with irritation.
“Fucking hell! Alright, I’m coming!”
The entrance creaked open just a few inches, and Jane peeked her little nose out to inspect me, her expression groggy and unwelcoming. “What do you want?”
What a lovely little Earthling.
“It’s time to go down to the training grounds,” I impatiently ordered her. “Tick-tock.”
She groaned. “I’m not in the mood to train.”
To my surprise, she dared to close the door in my face.
I shoved my boot between the crack, stopping the door from shutting completely.
“Too bad. I’m not leaving until you get your things together and come to the training pit with me.
It’s time to go,” I demanded, my tone firmer than before.
I wasn’t forcing my way inside, but I wasn’t about to retreat either.
“Urgh,” she whined. Goddess, I hated her whining. “Just come in for a second. I’m not even ready. And I need to ask you something.”
The door opened fully, and I glanced back at the guards who eyed me suspiciously.
My mind debated the consequences of being seen in her chambers with her.
Did I step inside and risk fuelling nasty rumours about her virtue, or did I remain out here, acting like the gentleman I had never been?
The choice seemed trivial compared to the weight of the two lives I had lost.
“Glade?” Jane’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I realized I hadn’t answered her.
I swallowed hard, the guilt still distracting me from the task at hand. “Yeah...” I muttered under my breath.
I had never been much of a gentleman anyways.
I strode into her chambers and recalled why I hated this specific room so much. My mother had redecorated it a few years ago with a dreadful colour palette. For someone who wore so much blue, she had an unfortunate affinity for red. But that was just because it reminded her of her favourite child.
Toward the wall was a chaise lounge, and I gracelessly threw myself onto it, letting the hard cushions surround and envelop me. I clasped my hands together over my stomach and turned my face toward Jane, batting my eyelashes mockingly.
“Well,” I huffed, trying to shake off my relentless thoughts of powerlessness, “let’s hear it.”
Jane dawdled over to the sitting area and took a seat across from me. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirt, leaving small wet streaks on her dress. It was obvious that something was truly bothering her, and I braced myself for the inevitable fight that would come along with it.
The Earthling’s eyes squinted and disapprovingly scanned my posture as she crossed her arms over her chest. “How can you act so nonchalant after what happened last night?” she asked, though her combative demeanour felt ingenuine.
My voice lacked its usual bite. “I was not the one who was almost killed.”
She didn’t find it amusing. Instead, her brows snapped together as her pupils shot daggers in my direction. “It’s not funny. I did almost die.”
The words barely made it out of her mouth before her shoulders slumped forward in defeat.
Turning my gaze to the ceiling, tossing a pillow playfully into the air, I teased, “But you didn’t, because the brave and incomparable prince was there to save you.”
Jane’s frown deepened as the light in her eyes dimmed to an almost nothingness. “What if you hadn’t been? What then?”
My natural instinct was to keep jesting, but as I swivelled my head in her direction, I realized she was terribly frightened. Her head hung low, and her eyes were fixed on her hands fidgeting in her lap, picking at her cuticles.
And then I noticed the bruises on her neck in the shapes of hands. A cold knot twisted in my stomach as the pretend playfulness that had radiated from me vanished entirely.
“Jane…” I began, but the words caught in my throat. I had never been particularly good at consoling others. “Hey,” I whispered, lifting myself into a sitting position to face her, our knees only a few inches from touching. “Look at me.”
Her pale face rose to meet mine. Wetness brimmed in her eyes.
In that moment, I felt like the biggest asshole, trying to make light of something that had scared her to death. Sometimes I forgot that not everyone was as hardened as I was.
I scooted forward so our knees could touch.
Taking her shaky little hands in mine, I spoke steadily and carefully, ensuring she heard each and every word.
“You’re okay, Jane. I can’t promise you that you won’t face danger again…
Only the Goddess can offer that. But what I can promise is that when danger arises, I will fight to the death to keep you safe. You have my word.”
I was a soldier of the crown after all.
The Earthling stared into my eyes, her own still dotted with unshed tears. However, despite the distress that clung to her, my speech seemed to bring her a small measure of comfort. She barely nodded, accepting my vow.
I had overlooked something profound through our many conflicts: Jane’s eyes were objectively beautiful. While her hair was a dark chestnut brown with hints of auburn, her eyes were an exquisite hazel, a rarity on Ornath.
The longer I stared, the harder it became to discern which colour was most dominant: green or brown. The colours swirled together, creating a possessing, hallucinogenic kaleidoscope that captivated me further with each blink. Even though her eyes were red, puffy, and wet, they were beautiful.
Absolutely beautiful.
An unfamiliar fire began to burn within me, kindling emotions I would never let myself fully acknowledge. I pushed the thought aside, unwilling to allow what these flames entailed.
After a moment too long, Jane coughed and pulled her hands away from my grip. I, too, tried to divert my attention, scanning her room for anything else to focus on, but those big doe eyes still lingered in my thoughts, against my will.
Jane refused to make eye contact again as she pressed, “Why was that thing in the hallway?”
I exhaled slowly, wishing I had an answer. “They’ve been sneaking into the castle for a few months now. They’re looking for something.”
“What are they looking for?” she asked, her brows furrowing in concern.
“Honestly?” I replied. “I don’t know. But that’s what I’m trying to figure out. Along with how they keep getting in.”