27Paranoia washed over me. I stopped. I scanned. I continued going.
In my hand was a piece of paper with writing on it, explaining in shorthand where to go to reach the library within the palace walls. It'd been a pleasant surprise to get written directions, and it made things easier—or so I thought.
To begin my problems I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following me, or at the very least watching my every move, so I kept stopping, turning around, and sometimes dashing to attempt escape, yet my efforts to discover the source or avoid it altogether were all but helpful. Nothing out of the ordinary caught my eye, and I begun to think those elusive eyes belonged to some disembodied being that had little in terms of wind resistance, never mind gravity. The next problem, which didn't help me escape the paranoia, was quite simple.
I had no idea where I was.
Like the last time I had wandered about, I'd passed by many doors and many hallways, all the while going nowhere at all. The halls were still long, tall, with many intersections, and just empty enough that I'd start questioning if I was still in the palace or if I'd stumbled into a labyrinth without realizing. Maybe the palace was a labyrinth. Maybe the labyrinth was a hallucination. Maybe the hallucination was the palace. Therefore, I must have been hallucinating the whole ordeal and really I was stuck in fetal position somewhere while drooling and mumbling incoherently.
I really needed to stop going off track.
Refocusing on my surroundings, I unfolded the directions to attempt reading them one more time while recounting my steps, though I traveled a good several yards for each line of symbols I deciphered. Practice, I kept telling myself. This is practice! Still, I gradually came to a halt, displaying my deep dissatisfaction with how unclear it was, not because of bad handwriting, but because of the vagueness in each statement. What the hell was I supposed to think at "Turn to the side when coming across that intersection"? Why not say "turn left at the second intersection" or something?
By the time my scowling had undoubtedly left a permanent imprint on my face from the assistant's terrible direction-giving, I'd started a fast-paced walk and all but given up on deciphering where to go. Since the paper wasn't helping, I planned to go aimlessly again and wait until I eventually found someone who could guide me. Five minutes into this though, I pondered if the vague directions were because they couldn't pick off the top of their head where exactly to go due to the sheer size of this place.
All at once those invisible eyes were on me again, though at this point I'd gotten fed up with everything and swerved around to glare at thin air.
"Stop following me before I beat the living—!"
Thunk. My words cut short, I listened as my voice bounced off the walls and high ceiling, the heavy thud echoing out with it. I turned to the source of the mysterious thunk but only spotted a door, currently closed and now silent, so realizing there was something familiar about the door, I inched over to it and gave a light knock, quirking a brow when a second, heavier thud responded. Someone's room? Trapped maybe?
Testing, I knocked one more time and put my ear close to the door, "Hello?"
This time, the doorknob turned and door swung open—or at least, that's what I'd expected. The doorknob turning had startled me enough that I jumped back, yet the door only opened a crack, giving a couple inches for the two of us to see each other. Spotting the familiar cloaked Enick hiding mostly behind the wood, I felt my heart sink. Oh great. Those thuds were probably him telling me to shut the hell up.
"What in the god's name do you want with me?" he snapped.
My face fell to annoyed, eyebrow twitching. "Someone sure is pissy."
"Most people are when they're woken up by pointless screaming right outside their door," he retorted, but seeing my face contort with guilt, he sighed hard, and I spotted the way the door shifted a slight as he leaned his head against it. "Do you need something though? Seeing as you knocked."
He did sound tired, or at least, sounded the way any person does when being disturbed during a heavy sleep. Wasn't it a tad early for bed though?
I shrugged, "I was on my way to the library and thought it was a good idea to yell at invisible people that may or may not be stalking me."
His head lifted up, expecting me to say more, but when I continued to stare blankly, he let his head fall back against the wood with a dull thud.
"That doesn't answer my question, but I think I got the gist of the situation." He opened the door further now, stepping out far enough that he could lean against the doorframe with his arms crossed, exposing the skin of his arms and gloved hands. "You got lost."
I blinked at the dead-on guess, but being stubborn and feeling silly, I folded my arms too, "Whoever said that?"
He snickered at my feeble attempt at defiance, "Nobody technically, but you are on the wrong side of the palace." Now I felt even stupider, brows furrowing as I cursed my poor navigating skills, but at that point he stifled another laugh and held a hand out. "Do you have directions from the assistant?"
Though I grumbled at his clear mockery, I handed off the folded paper to let him unfold and read, but the smirk he'd grown—strangely warm for a snarky smile—fell rather quickly, leaving me on edge. Did the assistant lead me on a wild goose chase or something? Thinking on it, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch. That snob had a stuck up look on him when he gave me the paper.
I suppressed the growing anger and cleared my throat, "… Bad directions?"
"You could say that," he answered.
He hadn't removed his eyes from the symbols yet, and when he finally did, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it over his shoulder. My mouth opened to protest or ask why he was throwing away my only guide to my destination, but he was closing his door as he stepped out into the hall with me, then jerked his thumb towards the depths of the hall I'd been heading down.
"This way," he said.
Before I reacted, he went down the hall at a restful gait. Not sure what else to do, and not sure what he was doing, I followed in suit, catching up beside him and matching his pace. When I did think to ask him if he was doing what I thought he was, a small little bell in my head told me to keep quiet, so despite my urge to confirm things, I took one look at the stern form of his lips before returning my attention up front. Something said to be quiet around him, perhaps because of how quiet he came off as—when Reiden wasn't around, anyway.
Now that I thought on it, why did Enick seemingly change personalities when in the same room as the prince? Right now, and a few other times where I'd seen him alone, his posture fell lax and his tone didn't get quite as sharp. This time when I looked his way, I debated asking about his relationship—or rather, rivalry—with Reiden.
Instead, I said nothing. I expected the silence to be heavy the way it usually was when Reiden went quiet, but it drifted over us in ease, no weight to it at all. During the walk, I noticed my mind unwinding in the soothing affect, which made me realize I seriously hadn't gotten enough quiet time since getting here.
Some time later, a giant pair of double-doors greeted us, so when he stopped to turn to me and motion towards it in a semi-formal fashion, my feet halted so I had a chance to gape at its size. Wasn't the palace gate around this height?
"Wow," I stated.
He chuckled under his breath—at my reaction I guess—though I suspected he hadn't meant me to hear it since he cut it short the moment I turned my head to him.
"This is the library?" I half-asked.
He nodded, "Though I think it goes to waste considering Reiden isn't much of a reader and Kinnder is far too busy most days to pick up a book for fun."
My face scrunched at the idea of being swamped in political work, but after witnessing a short-lived smile on that gloomy hidden face of his, he moved to leave and I went to thank him for guiding me here. In an instant, he had pivoted on his heel to face me once more, his finger on my lips to hush me. I merely stared at him, stiff where I stood as I felt a less easing atmosphere grow… though it wasn't hostile or unwelcoming.
"Don't," he said simply. After a pause, he sighed. "Don't even think of it. I did what I needed to. Gratitude is wasted."
What he needed to? He needed to bring me here? By the time he was drawing his fingertip away from my lips, leaving a strange lingering sensation for me, my eyes had narrowed and brows furrowed as I tried to understand what he meant. I must've been missing something. Did the directions say he had to? No, I hadn't read that once even after rereading.
I broke out of my puzzle-solving mindset when he placed a hand to his chest, only to tip his head and shoulders forward in a subtle bow. The motion itself was polite, yet not overly so, and with no more to be said, he headed back to his room. For a while I was left motionless as I watched him leave, eventually left squinting as it seemed the darkness of the halls swallowed his form. At that point, I snapped out of my odd daze to eye the double doors again.
I dreaded finding out just how much they weighed.
Pressing my shoulder to the door and pushing, I grunted pathetically before losing footing on the smooth tiles and falling flat on my stomach. The only thing that spared my face from hitting the door or floor was my hands flying out to catch myself, at which point I growled at the unnecessarily hard task. Getting up was easy enough, seeing as I wasn't hurt, but that goddamn door! However, with a few more grunts and feet slipping—at one point causing me to run in place—I discovered it required pulling; not pushing.
And so, as I pulled the surprisingly lightweight door open, I thanked whatever magic man in the sky that no one had seen that.
Better yet, I was thankful for the immediate distraction upon entering. My face had been lit up like a lobster at the dunce mistake, but that color fell at the same time as my jaw. I'd seen some pretty big libraries before, but talk about book galore. This not only had unneeded space and rows upon rows of bookshelves, but also a spiraling staircase crawling all along the walls of books in this circular tower.
I walked in still gaping at the ceiling, stopped in the middle of the room, spun in circles, got dizzy, and nearly fell over, but once I caught my balance, I laughed at myself. Still, reminding myself why I'd come, I did a quick 360 to scan the room for where to start, and in doing so, glimpsed a silhouette lounging silently at the door. Like so, I jumped a good couple of inches in the air as I whipped my head back for a double take, then blinked a few times at the familiar face. He smiled in quiet amusement with those observant gray eyes on me.
"S-Syris?" I stuttered—I kicked myself for it—and let out a hard breath to calm myself. "Jesus, you scared the crap out of me…" He merely tilted his head, not so much as losing the smile, though it was a good thing either way. A revelation hit me, so I was just as soon continuing. "What the hell are you doing in the palace? I don't think commoners are allowed to come and go as they please."
I hurried over to him with eyes darting around for any palace employees as I pulled him into the room fully so I could close the door. He didn't resist, following the pull easy enough, so I managed to relax from my tension once sure that no guards would spot him. I didn't want my only normal friend to get in trouble for something as minor as trespassing, which was why it irritated me when he put a hand over his mouth to contain a laugh.
I shot him a dark look, "You think trespassing is funny? Well, laugh it up! You won't find it so funny when you realize out just how territorial royalty have to be."
His grin only widened, completely unrepentant, "Did you stop to think that maybe I'm a guest here? There are countless guestrooms, you know." Getting a doubtful stare, he pursed his lips in an attempt to deaden the smile. "Relax. If we aren't loud, no one will come in here. In any case, I'm not too keen on being seen by anyone either."
My eyes narrowed, "But I can see you."
He only snorted and walked on by to the nearest bookshelf. I gave up on him at that and went off towards another bookshelf to browse for something to practice with. Nothing too hard, I was hoping. Even that task became needlessly laborious rather quickly since reading the summaries and titles took several minutes at a given time, so after Syris had been reading through something unenthusiastically for a good five minutes, he spotted me still hunched over on the same shelf by the same books and decided to help speed things along. He read the titles and summaries aloud, and I decided whether or not it interested me.
In the middle of the search, he pulled out a particularly dusty hardcover, though the moment his eyes landed on the title, something in his face fell. We'd been having a decent conversation and a light atmosphere, so I noticed the change almost immediately. Still, neither of us directly commented on the matter, he handing the book over to me. This broke the pattern we'd established where he'd read it, so once getting a good scan of his darker, perhaps saddened visage, I aimed my gaze to the title.
A minute later, my eyebrow twitched.
"How to Avoid Humans," I read. "Honestly, Syris?"
He had leaned against the shelf in waiting for me to finish decoding, though he averted his eyes now, "D-Don't worry about the title… I said before that you were unusual for a human. The humans known and feared within the clans are… hostile. Maybe they would spare you as kin, but maybe not. Best to play it safe."
"Yeah, well, I'm still human." Having said that, I lifted up the book to grab his attention and, just as Enick had done with those worthless directions, tossed it over my shoulder. "No thanks."
I admit, I felt a pang of guilt when his visage contorted in a mix of worry and dejection, but I merely moved on without him to find a different book, this time taking my path up the spiraling stairs. During the climb, I noticed he had left his spot against the bookshelf to crouch down where the book had landed and pick it up, gently brushing off the dirt and dust that had collected on it. Déjà vu; the lonesome yet tender sight of being hunched over a mistreated but inanimate object sent a wave of familiarity through me, but before I remembered why it was familiar, he had stood to place it on a table and tossed me a puzzled look.
I shook it from mind and continued upwards, wondering when I had stopped.
To say that I liked my decision of going off on my own to show him up would be somewhat of a lie. He had followed me a few minutes after setting the book down, but he didn't give the same help this time around, either to show me up right back or too put-off emotionally to feel anything but awkward should he try. So, as I searched the vast shelves, he got comfy against the railing to watch more comfortably.
Hands holding the rail and leaning cautiously on the metal, his focus drew away from me as I worked on reading another summary to stare down at the ground, now several stories below us. Thoughtfulness filled his countenance, dark with brooding but light with innocent curiosity, perhaps wondering what it would be like if he jumped off; how it would feel to plummet fast and hard into solid tile.
"It would hurt if I fell," he spoke, softly though, as if talking to himself.
"Hm…" was the best I could think up initially. "I would die, probably."
This drew his interest back towards me, the dark but curious emotion still toiling in his expression, "Is it really that far down?"
I shrugged, "You might bounce up and down a few times, but I'd go splat."
The thoughtfulness on his part caused him to zone out in his pondering, which was why he winced when I slammed the book closed with a frustrated groan. However, the second I headed towards a ladder attached to the bookshelf, he quickly grabbed my arm, jerking me away, but being that it had happened so abruptly, I was only able to blink a few times before I turned to him, Syris now mere inches away from me. Anxiety lit his gray eyes.
"What…" I trailed off at first, then quirked a brow. "What's the matter?"
He drew back in surprise, his cheeks turning pink as he quickly withdrew his hand, "N-Nothing. I was just thinking on what you said. I suppose I just got a little… scared for you."
"Why? 'Cause I'd be going up high on a ladder?" Getting a deep frown of worry, I smiled and ruffled his hair, noticing he, too, ducked his head down like a puppy. Were these "demons" more like humanized dogs? "Chill. I won't fall that easily." Heading back towards the ladder, I noticed his head subconsciously followed my hand when I moved it. "Even should I fall and splatter my brains all over the floor, I'd have nothing more to suffer. Quick and painless death too."
I couldn't tell what his weird look was for—my slang or my statement?—but halfway up the steps, he let out a sigh, a rather heavy one that carried depression with it.
He'd returned to his spot against the rail, eyes focused intently on the tiling now, "You make death sound appealing."
I paused. In my fingers was a book that had caught my eye with the strange blue and silver design on its spine, but my attention had gone to Syris. I had to wonder if there was an underlying message to his words; if I had imagined the trace of hopelessness laced in his voice.
"It's not about being appealing or not," I tried to amend; to explain. "It's more… being optimistic." Pulling the book out from the shelf, I gave it a brief scan. "Dying ends your suffering, but living is enriching and well worth the pain. There's a lot you can do with yourself, a lot of things to enjoy, moments to be cherished…" I thought briefly on the romantic daydream I'd started during my last day of school, fingers trailing over the scaly book cover. "People to love, who'd miss you."
A bitter sort of laugh came from him, and the way it echoed in the room left a sour aftertaste in the atmosphere. Turning to him, his lips had curled into a matching smile, though a hint unmotivated now, whereas his gray eyes bore into mine with unneeded force.
"People wouldn't miss me," he replied, his tone almost humorous. Eyes closing in a forced back laugh, he shook his head and stood upright. His tone, however, just continued to darken. "A sweet thought though. If I die, cry for me, won't you?" he purred. "Just as a service. Alligator tears work just fine."
For the first time in quite some time, I felt a sincere frown curve my lips, and while my furrowed brows and puzzled eyes seemed to throw off his cynicism, it wasn't until I'd gotten down from the ladder that the terrible atmosphere had shifted at all. For me, it had been replaced by disheartening memories and far off cries of pain.
Unlike him, I did not look him in the eye when I spoke, "I would cry anyway. I mean, it's only been a couple days, but you're a good person. It's a tragic thing when someone dies."
Certain thoughts and images so deeply ingrained in my mind were forced to the frontlines of my emotions as I assessed the truth of my own words, and after only skimming the surface, knowing I was too timid to submerge deeper or longer, I could not see anything but hopelessness should I witness another's end. When I did rise out of my own thoughts, I realized no response had ever come. My attention turned from my feet towards the railing where he'd made his seat before, but Syris had turned his back to me, head hung with one arm limp while the other gripped the rail. Strangely, his knuckles were white from the strength applied. I felt the iron would bend if he could squeeze an ounce harder.
Other than the subtle tremble of his clenched fingers, he was motionless as well as wordless. Had I startled him? Angered him? My mood dropped further, wondering if he didn't believe my words. In an attempt to make up for my possible mistake or simply to break him out of his standstill, I reached over to touch his shoulder. Thankfully, when my hand pressed against him, he partially moved his head as if not sure he wanted to make eye contact yet.
"Thank you," he murmured. I thought to ask what he was thanking me for, to shake off the feeling that he was referring to the fact that I cared about his life, but he spoke up again before I finalized my thoughts. "This was… enlightening."
Again, my brows furrowed. It was enlightening to know his life was something to be missed? Despite my desire to confirm my suspicions and figure out why he felt so alone in the world, I bit my questions back since I was more eager to end this topic than get answers. Dragging this on would only serve to send us both into a spiraling depression, though it may have been too late for Syris.
Yet, when I averted my eyes to the book to reread the title, he spoke up again, "What about the prince? ... And what about… the creepy guy?"
This time I couldn't help but toss him a weird and unimpressed stare, "Reiden and Enick you mean?" Getting no immediate response, I huffed. "Why so curious?"
He shrugged, "It doesn't seem like you like them that much."
"Well, that isn't true." His head rose at my words, so I felt obligated to explain, giving him my full attention even if he kept his back to me. "While Reiden grates on my nerves, he seems to have good intentions. As for Enick… I don't know him well, but I don't hate him either." My eyes trailed over to the rows upon rows of bookshelves. "In fact, I don't know what to think of him. He seems stand offish when people are around, particularly Reiden, but when I see him alone, he comes off as… quiet, I think."
When a hiatus in the conversation arrived, I pondered about Reiden and Enick, now that Syris had brought them up. Reiden had good intentions and Enick had a hidden softer side. How did they feel about me? Did Reiden find me standoffish? Did Enick think I was annoying? Rather than focus on Enick, despite I had monologued about him a little bit, my thoughts drifted to Reiden, the prince who had first found me within the forest of his clan and so easily seemed to accept me as safe. Now that I thought on it, the only time he had shown any caution towards me was when he first ran when I awoke, and then once in the throne room, he so confidently strutted right up to me to inspect his new guest. My brow quirked when recalling he had sniffed at me.
"—listening, Emma?"
I shook my head and turned to face Syris, he barely peeking a gray eye over his shoulder. From what I could see of his face, he was depressed or at the very least uncomfortable now.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, quickly just in case. "I zoned out for a minute."
His eyes closed and head turned away, "I realized. In any case, I should go. Shall we meet at the tree tomorrow then?"
I smiled without thinking, a familiar feeling resurfacing at the prospect of setting up plans with friends, and nodded, "Yeah. Noon good for you?"
Surprisingly, he tossed a short but warm smile over his shoulder at me, gray eye on mine, then waved goodbye as he made his way down the stairs. By the time he had reached the bottom, he'd gone from a light jog to a good run, apparently in a rush to leave, not that I minded. The conversation had gotten a little heavy.
Once he'd slipped out the door and closed it, a muffled thud marking his exit, I made my way down closer to the first floor to get a seat at a table, then got lazy and sat on the nearest step. By then I was only one floor up, and I'd flipped open to the first few pages of my book. Already I felt my brain whimpering at the small but bountiful symbols I had to decode, yet before the first line was translated to English, the door swung opened rather loudly, drawing my attention to it for more than one reason. First of all, that person needed to shut up so I could read! Secondly, I worried that Syris was forced to hide here because he got spotted by guards.
Upon leaning over to the railing bars, I felt my worry drop off the face of the earth while my irritation with their noisy entrance bubbled higher. It was neither Syris nor Reiden, nor Enick, nor Kinnder, but rather, Kinnder's annoying assistant. I felt fully prepared to ignore his presence seeing as he was heading towards the nearest bookshelf quietly, but the moment my eyes returned to the page, a smug little laugh escaped him.
"Humans are too stupid. It just ran off without a single question towards the directions," he spoke aloud to himself. "I wonder if it's found the Lion's Den yet."
With my book now resting upright on my knees, I held it so that it rested against my nose and cheeks, peering past its top with very little displayed in my expression. My thoughts had returned to Enick, how he had lost his smile when reading the directions and subsequently tossed the useless garbage to the side, suddenly understanding what he had meant. "Bad directions?" I had asked. "You could say that," he responded. The only question left unanswered was how to invoke justice upon the fleabag still cackling down there.
Decisions made and in no mood to play around, I simply stood up and hurled the book at his head. I missed by a few inches, but he still jumped away in fright once the book whizzed by. Blinking furiously at the fallen text, his head whipped around towards the higher levels, more or less looking horrified to see me, then angry. I leaned against the railing, resting my elbows on the metal and keeping my sights locked on the target. All the while I made sure that my jutted jaw, narrowed eyes and overall body posture displayed my roused temper.
"Y-You!" he hollered, pointing at me. "Were you trying to hurt me with that book?"
"Were you trying to kill me with those false directions?" I shouted back.
He didn't seem surprised to know he'd been caught, straightening his posture but simply brushing some dust off his shoulder, "So what if I was? Humans aren't supposed to be within Hellican walls, no less in the palace. It's disgraceful for anyone to condone it. Leaving you to wander will desecrate these hallowed grounds."
My heart steadily pumped harder the more he spoke, but by the time he finished, I was gritting my teeth, "Oh, really now? I think Kinnder would have a difference of opinion." Seeing his face light up in suppressed worry, I smiled falsely and began a light waltz down the stairs. "Let's see what your precious king has to say when he hears that 'directions to library' translated to 'directions to the lion's den' in your demented little head."
"Hrrmp!" He raised his chin, giving me an urge to forget the tattling to nail him in the nose, but he grew a smile, getting cocky all of a sudden. "Who says he'll believe you?" I paused halfway down, turning dark eyes to him, but he merely smiled wider. "I have been his royal assistant for longer than you've been alive. He has more reason to trust me, and less to trust you over me. Maybe he would if you had proof, but… I don't think you do."
The smarminess claws at my nerves, though rather than go apeshit and chuck every book I could find, which would eventually leave the man battered and unconscious given the massive amounts simply behind me, I smirked and challenged him both in my confident posture and in my words.
I put a hand on my hip, "Proof? Well, you're right in the sense there's not a lot of it, but I'm not exactly empty handed."
He narrowed his eyes, a little less confident but not wavering, "T'is a bluff. What could you possibly have against me?"
I giggled and put my fingers over my lips, "Well, to begin with, there's the piece of paper with the directions that has your handwriting all over it." His confidence wavered a bit but reformed, so I continued. "I suppose that might not be enough, so… Oh yes! Enick!" I gave a cheery smile to the puzzled assistant, hands clasping together as I spoke. "He's probably pissed that I woke him up to figure out where the hell I was, particularly after he read your fake directions. So not only do I have proof, but I also have someone to vouch for me!"
Honestly, I had no idea how willing Enick would be to get involved in this situation, but what I did know was I loved the terror building in the fleabag's face. I imagine his life was flashing before his eyes, the way he seemed to lose focus for a brief moment, but in the next instant, he had reformed the anger and bolted to the door. He was surprisingly fast for an old guy.
"I am not losing my living and honor over a tick like you!" he shouted. "You will have no audience with the king if I have anything to say about it! You shan't reach the throne doors before you find your head rolling!"
Those words seized me in my own terror, knowing it was quite possible, especially since Eldren was around. Kinnder took his position seriously, and if the assistant convinced him that I was an immediate threat… The idea scared me, but most of all, it pissed me the fuck off.
Blood now at a boiling point, I screamed back, "And I'm not losing my life over a two-faced asswipe like you!"
He only glared before he disappeared out the door, but just as soon, I had planted my butt on the railing and did what any teenager knew how to do, sliding down the metal railing faster than was comfortable, which turned the minute run down the stairs into a five second trip. My hip hit the rail's knob hard, pain shooting up from it, but I simply threw myself off the rail to dash out the door and down the hall where I saw the man just disappear.
He wouldn't get away! Or so I thought. I managed to keep up with him for a few turns in the hallways, but after that I lost sight of the assistant, which led me to run until I felt my energy depleting. When realizing that, I let out an aggravated shout to the ceiling, preparing to turn at the cross-hall ahead. The goddamn fleabag gave me the slip! The goddamn fleabag might get me killed!
By the time I had opened my eyes from the shout, I was less than two feet from turning the corner, and at that same moment Reiden appeared from behind it, in mid-run as well. We made eye contact for a split second, he as startled as I, before I collided into him and floored us both. Initially I just blinked a few times in a daze, but realizing something, I shot upright, red in the face.
That goddamn fleabag beat me!
I screamed out in aggravation again, gripping at my hair, and paid no mind to the prince that I currently sat on, he rubbing his noggin where it'd made contact with the floor. He had gotten a little red-faced too, but more for the fact that I was sitting on him.
"E-Emma? What's the matter?" His confusion fizzled down enough to show his impatience. "Where have you been all day? I've been looking all—"
I gripped his collar and pulled him up close to my face. He might have grown a deeper blush, except the hostility brewing in my stare dampened any romantic connotations.
"You! Take me to the throne room!" I commanded. "Your daddy's assistant is trying to get me killed!"
Though he'd glared at the order, his expression changed when hearing my reason. At that point, he slipped out from under me and pulled me to my feet, guiding me through the maze of hallways. I may have retained most of my anger, but I still noticed that he never let go of my hand the entire time, and unlike with Syris or Enick, his fingers were gentle and never held me any harder than needed to keep his hold. It also surprised me that he remained so quiet the whole way.
The throne room came into view, so I tore my eyes away from Reiden's serious face to the revealed scene. I had only glimpsed the assistant talking to a grim yet alert Kinnder in his throne before we stepped into the room, and in the next instant guards had surrounded us. Though I clenched my jaw as my rage skyrocketed, Reiden stepped defensively in front of me and glared around the royal arms. The armored soldiers hesitated, and when they went to perhaps grab the prince to pull him away, he reached back with his arm to pin me closer to him. I felt a mild blush form when feeling his hand a little too close to my butt but retained the annoyance that grew from it. He had good intentions, remember Emma?
"Father!" Reiden hollered. "What's the meaning of this?"
Kinnder turned his stare away from the assistant to his son in the middle of the guards, raising both brows when seeing that not only was his son defending me, but I was also passively accepting the close-quarter shielding. Their red eyes met, locked in place, and kept their regal confidence. Reiden overflowed with it, posture upright and chest puffed enough to suggest dominance, meanwhile Kinnder remained calm in his seat, still equally confident but in a more mature, less ostentatious manner. Though their ages were reflected in their subtle behavior, I couldn't figure out which one I liked more. Maturity was always a plus, but guts were a good quality too.
The assistant had a flash of worry show, a look that only I seemed to catch, and I figured he hadn't expected the prince to be on my side already. In the silence that hung between father and son, I decided to use this all to my advantage. After all, the fleabag's plan was to kill me before I could speak, and there was nothing to stop me.
"Your Majesty!" I shouted, drawing all eyes to me. Kinnder tilted his head curiously, making me wonder if this had been the first time I'd called him by anything but his name. "I think your assistant tried to kill me!"
Reiden's brows furrowed, some guards glancing warily towards the king, though Kinnder simply leaned back in the throne chair with a hand to his cheek.
"A bold claim, Emma," he replied. "But equally as bold as my assistant's, I suppose." Seeing I shot a dark look towards the fleabag, he quirked a brow. "I am told by this same assistant that you were planning an assassination against me and my son."
I felt my jaw drop at the same moment Reiden glanced at me with alarm, though seeing how stunned I was, his alarm faltered. I knew he was having trouble deciding who to believe.
Still, I couldn't restrain myself, "How is that equally bold? I'd say that's about twice as bold and twice as unlikely! How would I pull that off without getting skinned myself?" I pulled away from Reiden so I had room to throw my hands up in exasperation. "Even if I did escape, where the fuck would I go?"
Despite the nature of the situation, an amused smile had grown on the king's lips. Apparently I was funny to watch when desperate.
"Fair enough. There is no physical proof of this claim, so the most I can lawfully do is increase security." The king lost the smile, making sure to meet my gaze. "But if it is a lie and it is in fact your life at risk, would you have any evidence to support it?"
"Yes!" I barked back.
Perhaps my immediate response threw them off since most of the guards began to lower their spears and Reiden's torn look had switched to curious, but seeing the assistant growing pale, I felt smug… then unsure. I would have to go bother Enick, wouldn't I?
"Well?" Kinnder prompted.
I appreciated the patience but the task of fetching the cloaked guest when I knew he hated being disturbed was somewhat of an unwanted errand. I rubbed at my neck, preparing to explain my delay now that some uncertain glances were being tossed, yet when my mouth opened to speak, Enick came into view, having walked into the room unnoticed and holding a certain wrinkled paper in his hand. He halted when he spotted me encircled by guards, then examined around to diagnose what was going on.
"Did someone raise an alarm?" he asked.
Reiden only looked at him once before ignoring his presence, but Kinnder turned welcoming eyes to him, "Yes. I was told by my assistant that she was planning an assassination. Now I'm hearing that my assistant was trying to kill her. She was about to present evidence."
"An assassination?" he repeated, audibly surprised. "On who? You and Reiden?" Getting a nod, he sputtered at the idea and shook his head, which earned some weird looks from our peers, including Reiden. "I don't believe it for one second. Despite how she might behave at times, she cares about him, and you. She wouldn't want either of you to die, never mind kill you two herself."
Something about the words made my heart flutter, though I felt a tad embarrassed when spotting the mild blush on Reiden's face. The assistant, however, had gone stone still and deathly pale, though the king remained blissfully unaware and was more interested in the current topic.
"You speak like you know her very thoughts," Kinnder pointed out with a soft chuckle, but regardless, he didn't show doubt in his words. "How are you certain?"
"There's one thing I learned while talking with her these few days," he explained as he approached the king's chair. "She isn't a liar." His lip twitched into a brief smile. "Or rather, she's a terrible liar."—I growled at that—"Call it irony, but I am, in fact, her 'evidence' and had come here to talk about this very same reason."
I watched the way that both Kinnder's and Reiden's faced dropped. I hadn't been aware that Reiden had been wearing any particular expression given that he was so quiet this time around, but now they both wore the same serious, perhaps alarmed expression.
"So you say it's true?" Kinnder asked.
Enick nodded, holding out the crumpled paper—the directions—for the king to take, "She's new with reading our language, so she got lost pretty quick and wandered by my room. I took the directions once I figured out where they were to and brought her to the library myself." Kinnder, now austere, took the paper and read it over, his rose eyes moving over the symbols quickly and easily, but Enick sighed and continued quietly. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you directly or speak with him first, but it seems I made the better decision."
Finishing the written directions, Kinnder lowered the paper to meet Enick's hidden eyes, "You did." Next, the king turned his attention to his assistant, for a second time harboring the unfriendly and harsh stare that I had first witnessed. "I ordered you to give her directions to the library, correct?"
He was caught, and anyone could see that he knew it since he grew stiff and remained as pale as before, "That is correct."
His rose eyes narrowed, holding the paper out for the other to see, "Why are these very distinctly directions to the Lion's Den?"
I had been waiting for this part—perhaps even a brief explanation about the Lion's Den—but as the assistant began to fumble for words, I spotted Reiden take a step back from the corner of my eye. The guards had all lowered their weapons to watch the king and await orders, so perhaps I was the only one to see it, but when I looked to the prince, he too had gone pale, his lips partially parted and eyes widened. Somehow it all seemed very overdramatized since I was sure I would notice something like lions before I got mauled to death, yet I hadn't even heard the assistant finish his incoherent excuse before Reiden had secured my hand in his grasp and jerked me towards the hall we had entered from.
Bewildered by the sudden jerk, I only tossed a disappointed pout towards the throne room before looking back towards Reiden, though I caught a glimpse of Kinnder's saddened face as he watched us go. Even Enick had turned his head to watch.
He hadn't spoke in the hallway, and he didn't speak now. Rather, he laid on his belly with his nose pressed into a pillow, while he stared off at nothing. The whole atmosphere was heavy, and I ended up sitting on the pillows scattered about, watching him with worry. Originally when I found Enick's silence to be soothing, I thought it was because I enjoyed his presence more, but now I knew it wasn't a matter of liking one over the other. Silence was not a bad sign for Enick—in fact, I'm pretty sure it was normal. For Reiden, however, silence was a bad sign. It was abnormal for him.
Growing restless with it all, I stood upright and walked over to the bed to plop up beside him on my knees, but when he didn't react, I frowned and poked his head.
"Why are you so… unhappy about this?" I asked. "You were handling things okay until you heard the Lion's Den part."
He sighed hard, shifting so his entire face was hidden, "You probably think it's just a den of lions, but it's not. It's just a name for the room."
"Well, sorry for not being up-to-date on the newest demon lingo," I retorted. "If it's not an actual lion den, what is it?"
The fire prince peeked an eye up at me, brows noticeably furrowed, and at last he sat upright to speak, though his head stayed turned to the bedding, "The Lion's Den is an execution chamber, and it was deemed too immoral to use many thousands of years ago when it was first abandoned."
Now I understood a little bit better, but the fact that it was too "immoral" made me question what exactly would happen within the room. I was curious, but more so, I found it curious how much Reiden seemed to fear it. I would have imagined him the type to view something so forbidden as an exciting adventure in need of investigation, similar to our trek into the kitchen that first night. For the questions of how it was too immoral, I just used my imagination, but as for his fear…
Seeing him breathe deep, I kept my attention solely to him to read his reaction, "I get what the fuss was all about then, but why does the Lion's Den bother you so much?"
His jaw tightened, his eyes lifted, and he faced me with what I can only describe as regret.
"I went inside."