Ivory Palace, Central City Of Lavene, Antioch.
The sun was fierce, Adriana thought, wiping beads of sweat from her brow. Its hot rays beating down on the ground were relentless. The sun scorched hot on everyone, heedless of their complaints, causing them to tear up in sweat.
Yet, her mind kept wandering back to what the prisoner guards were whispering about as they hauled her up and dragged her out of the cell.
Venderya–the neighbouring kingdom–had been under supernatural siege for three years. Which meant for the three years that she spent in prison, Anlai had summoned a demon to attack Venderya. It was probably the same demon that destroyed the Uprising.
Adriana was led down a narrow open-top passageway opening up to a courtyard. The emissaries from the neighboring kingdom had arrived and the exchange was about to begin.
The smell of vegetation wafted into her nostrils unbidden, unrestricted, flushing out the smell of rot. Needle-like stings prickled her feet as she walked towards the light at the end of the passageway. Her feet moved clumsily, for lack of practice and pain but she trudged on anyway.
Ahead of her, two heavily armored guards took the lead, dragging her by steel iron chains. Each chain held one length of interconnected metal rings that connected at Adriana's wrists, forcing her hands to be palmed together.
Now and then she would stumble and slow their movement, only to be tugged forward by the chains, she would lurch back into motion, reassured by the cold metal cufflinks in between her palms...Her escape pin.
Walking into the wide courtyard, Adriana was affronted by the sound of buzzing bees, the extension of the courtyard cut out in a wide rectangular shape, its hedges lain with camellias, roses, hibiscus, and other flowers that Adriana couldn't recognize. They were all laid randomly; their colors a riot against the green field of grass.
When Adriana came to realize that she had stopped to enjoy the scenery, a not-so-subtle pull on the chains caused her to lurch forward, almost falling face flat; if not for a last minute stumble.
Groaning, Adriana pulled herself upright, her eyes wandered back to the well-groomed courtyard. Butterflies and moths fluttered about, perching on flowers, fluttering away at the slightest of movements.
Adriana felt a twinge of envy at the sight of a particular butterfly dodging likely predators, fluttering its powdery wings up and down. She wished she could dodge her enemies with such ease, and fly over high walls, into the blue sky. She didn't feel envious for long, when a scaly lizard snatched it mid-air, cruelly ending its life.
At the other end of the courtyard under a canopy of trees–whose branches wavered side-to-side at the slightest of breezes letting off a few rebellious leaves,– were Anlai, the king on his right, and another unfamiliar figure stood at Anlai's left.
'Probably an emissary sent to retrieve her.'
"Thank you, Phineas and Thelonius," King Damianos said, smiling at the guards as they reached them. "Remind me to give you a raise," He added to which they responded with a slight bob of their redheads.
"Hand the chains over to Attache Foucault over here," Anlai ordered and Adriana didn't miss the way the guards moved stiffly to his commands, handing the chains over to the Foucault person causing her to pace forward at the pull.
Foucault was the mediator from Venderya. He was approved by both kingdoms to restore whatever grievances the Kingdoms held against each other.
Foucault stared at Adriana with nothing short of hatred. This was the girl causing his home troubles. She was the one that set a demon unto his nation.
His cobalt blue eyes were stony, his lips set in a grim line, and occasional muscle twitched on his cheeks as he clenched his teeth.
Adriana wasn't amused by the display, only the gods knew what other lies Anlai had told them. No matter, she would escape and make sure that Anlai ate his words. Her plan was simple, open up her chains and run. That should be easy, right?
"Ah! Lest I forget," King Damianos said clicking his fingers at the guards. "You both need not follow us. I think it best to put our guests at ease. Don't you think so Attache Foucault, a show of good faith, eh?" He said directing his attention to the grim-looking man.
"I will only rest at ease when this witch is burnt to the stake," Foucault turned his cold cobalt stare on Adriana.
To her credit, Adriana didn't back down, she turned one of her impassive gazes on him in return.
Anlai grinned wolfishly.
With a cold icy look directed at Anlai, Foucault calmly stated, "In my kingdom, of course."
"Pardon?" Anlai blanked.
"I was only stating that the witch would be burnt to the stake in Venderya–my home. Do you have any objections?" Foucault blanked in return, but his question went unanswered.
Did this Foucault person suspect foul play? If so, why? Adriana thought looking from Foucault to Anlai.
'There was bad blood there.'
Anlai returned the look with a furious glance.
"Of course," King Damianos said, raising his eyebrows amused. "Let's not dally in troubled waters, let's begin the exchange, Shall we?"
"After you, his lordship," Foucault directed his gaze at Anlai. If Damianos saw the death glares they shot each other, he pretended not to notice. Soon they were strolling away from the garden and into the main palace, passing by dimly lit corridors, turning upwind of stairs until they reached the throne room, with Adriana led behind like an animal for slaughter.
Five pairs of eyes turned to Adriana as she entered the throne room, the door slamming shut behind her. The throne room was really simple, a vast room, carpet floored, stonewalled and in the middle, a stone dais laid at the bottom of an intricately designed throne with splashes of gold and silver, a slightly raised podium was constructed on both sides of the throne holding seats for the King's Court.
Adriana recognized this room on first glance. It was the same room where she had been brought to three years ago when she was brought in for her trial. But Adriana had no time to dwell on memories. Her attention was fixed on the pair of eyes watching her closely, nervously as if she could summon the Unseen beings.
They had believed Anlai, hook, line and sinker.
"Where is the Crown Prince?" King Damianos asked, his tone was a bit apprehensive.
"In the wagon," A shrill voice replied. "Foucault would fetch your dear prince, whilst you do that, take the prisoner and lock her up" The voice belonged to a petite looking woman. She was garbed in a long blue flowing gown that reached her ankles, her long neck was hunched and it seemed incapable of handling the weight of the large jewelries that adorned her neck. Her eyes were of a dark green and it didn't seem capable of staring at one spot for long, as they fluttered from one person to another.
She seemed nervous.
Foucault moved to drag Adriana away when Anlai moved quickly to intercept him, standing in between him and Adriana.
"You would do no such thing," Anlai replied, his eyes glinting darkly, his hands itching to feel the buzz of energy in the air. "Forgive us if we are a little bit suspicious of your intentions,"
"No, no, it's perfectly normal to be suspicious. Foucault, fetch the prince." The lady snapped authoritatively, to which Foucault left the room to answer her order.
After fifteen minutes of passing glances at each other, and the five men, including the lady were bored of making small talk, Foucault bursted in wildly.
"My! Whatever has gotten into you, Foucault." The lady exclaimed, her formerly bored self replaced by an apt lady.
"And where is the prince?" She said,straining her neck as if to see behind Foucault's large frame.
"He's escaped," He replied gasping for breath.
"Escaped!" Damianos exclaimed in a thunderous tone.
" Unfortunately, it seems someone tried to take him away." Foucault continued out of breath. "The ropes were untied when I got there."
Adriana glanced at Anlai, a slight curve on his lips, almost indiscernible that Adriana thought she imagined it.
"What's more," Foucault continued,
"I can't seem to find our coachman. He is missing!"
The tension in the room thickened. For a beat or two, everyone was glaring daggers at each another.
Adriana took the moment as her chance. She began trying to put the cufflinks to work as she struggled with both hands palm linked, whilst also trying to be as silent as possible.
" Preposterous!"
"Preposterous indeed," The lady snorted sarcastically.
"What?" Damianos turned sharply with neck-breaking speed to face her. "What are you insinuating Marga?"
"I'm not insinuating anything, Your Majesty, only that our coachman be found from wherever your loyal servants have hidden him." Marga stated, her thin oval face tingling red.
"Watch your tone," Foucault glared at Marga before Damianos could retort.
Anlai looked faintly amused.
Then suddenly, the doors burst wide open, revealing a teenage boy, with messy, dirty blonde hair. His face was thick with dirt, his blue eyes wide and apprehensive. His clothes all tattered, showcasing purple bruises on his chest and face.
He looked vaguely familiar.
" Father! " The boy cried out panting. His eyes turned towards the King.
"Prosperi, my dear boy!" The king cried out in equal pain-stricken emotion, and everyone stared at their reunion, albeit shocked.
Meanwhile, Adriana was confused. She was finding it difficult to unchain herself.
"Since that is settled, I believe we may take our end of the bargain." Lady Marga said, dismissing the prince's sudden appearance.
Foolish coachman. He had been given specific orders to kill the prince before they came to inspect the him, but he had failed. Lady Marga groaned inwardly, and glared at the prince's back. They had no intention of reliving this murderer. A murderer to the throne. The plan was to simply deceive them and get away with this witch, but it seems this brother of the king would make their job harder for them. Marga thought, eyeing Anlai.
If anything, she suspected he had something to do with the prince's escape. After all, he could commune with magical beings.
"Unfortunately, I can't allow that." The king began gravely, slowly extracting himself from his son's arms.
"What do you mean, Your Majesty? The boy is here, isn't he?" Marga replied,perplexed.
"He is here, because of a failed murder attempt on his life, by your coachman!" Damianos said his voice rising angrily.
Marga had the guts to look frankly disgusted as she gasped. Raising her hands on her pale lips, she shook her head dramatically. "No! It can't be true Fred would never..."
Foucault drew out his sword and the other four guards imitated his movement.
"You shall hold your end of the bargain or else," Foucault growled menacingly, the sword pointed at Anlai. He was no longer playing mediator.
"Foucault! Don't do this," Marga warned. She almost wanted to say 'this wasn't according to our plan'
"Put the sword down this instance, Foucault!" The King ordered but Foucault wasn't having it. With one fluid motion, he lashed the tip of his sword at Anlai drawing blood from his cheek.
"Anlai, No! " The king howled, as the tension froze, a sudden change in the energies around Anlai.
"I'm sorry, brother, but I can't watch and stand still any longer," Anlai said, his calm exterior breaking into that of rage.
Anlai clenched his hands, and a swirl of energy thickened around him. He directed the energy towards open space, and a fireball shot at the Foucault and his group.
Suddenly, hell broke loose as the throne room was thrown into confusion and a possible bloodbath. Realization dawned on them at Anlai's words, they all drew out their swords, having narrowly missed the searing ball of fire.
Five against two, one of which was a dabbler in the dark arts.The odds weren't favoring Foucault.
Adriana hid beside the mantelpiece atop the fireplace, trying to unlock the chains. She had found the locks at this point, after some desperate jags, the lock came undone.
"Yes!" She breathed exasperatedly.
An orange whip-like flame lashed out. From the corner of her eye, Adriana spotted it just in time to jump away. The carpet singeing black upon impact. Her eyes locked with Anlai's; at that moment Adriana knew that he was never going to let her leave alive. She knew too many of his secrets.
With a determined growl, Adriana grabbed the unlocked chains menacingly, turning to the room where they had all drawn their weapons.
For a few seconds, they all stared at each other. Before Adriana whipped her chain at the nearest person, Marga, it twisted around her neck, and she gasped. Her manicured fingers grabbing it wildly, tears running down her face in shock.
Marga watched as Anlai's fingers moved eerily as if commanding the chains to choke her to death, but before they could all think to react, Adriana had pulled the chain towards herself, pulling Marga along with it.
Adriana reacted fast and grabbed Marga by the hair, her body a shield against their attacks.
" Any move, and she dies " Adriana threatened, backpedaling towards the door. Anlai was watching her, his eyes wide with realization at the cufflinks she had dropped.
She wasn't really going to kill Marga but if that was the case, she might be forced to.
Seeing as Anlai was momentarily distracted, Adriana seized the opportunity. With a push forward, Marga lurched towards the ground, her hands out in front of her. Adriana turned out the door, missing the wave of fire that shot past.
Taking a glance left and right, Adriana turned right. She had not gone far when a sharp siren sounded, marking her escape.
Foucault watched the whole event unfolding before his eyes. His gaze slid to Anlai anticipating the rage that was to come.
Things were about to get heated.
...
EMILY'S POV.
Emily paced back and forth in her chamber, head bent in thought, her long embroidered skirt sweeping the carpeted rug as she moved about studying the interior decor for the umpteenth time. Silver leaf highlighted the intricate curve of delicate grey-painted furniture, a dressing table sat in one corner, a large wardrobe holding various sensuous gowns stood in another.
The bed was hung with blue bedroom curtains and covered with an embroidered quilt. Two feather-stocked pillows were placed on either side of the bed, the draperies a light blue, and the thick carpets beneath her bare feet were swirls of blue and taupe.
Emily stooped to examine a set of silver-backed brushes and tiny colored bottles of expensive perfume on her dresser. To calm her nerves, she picked a tiny bright green bottle examining the contents.
A knock sounded on the door and she turned from the dresser, nearly dropping the bottle. She set the bottle back and calmly climbed her bed, her heart racing.
"Come in."
Disappointment bloomed in her chest, as a young woman hurried in and bobbed a curtsy. The maid had come for her unwashed undergarments. The door closed behind her signaling the exit of the maid, leaving Emily to her thoughts.
Ever since yesterday when she had told Anlai of her plans to get the prince back, she had been expecting him to come back bearing news as to whether it was accepted by the council or not. It was a great idea to get the prince back and blame it on the orange-haired girl. Ingenious really.
Why, she was anticipating this news more than ever before. Emily thought as she laid back on the soft bed, sinking ever slightly. Her eyes training the graffiti sprayed on the ceiling as her mind churned. This was not the first time one of her schemes had gotten her on edge. But none like this.
Was it the risk? 'No!' Emily thought definitely, she had planned other schemes that posed a greater risk than her life's worth. She had played against her enemies strength times without number, hadn't she? Didn't she make a fool of that high-nosed society girl who called her a gold digger?
All it took was a whisper here and there about her covert affairs with a guard, and she was murdered right in her room– one that was supposed to be surrounded by guards. Guards who only needed a drink or two before they left their point of duty for the bar, giving her ample time to sneak in and leave a venomous spider on her bed. She slept and never woke up again.
Wasn't she the cunny snake that whispered to the prince vile words about his betrothed causing him to murder her in daylight? Emily pondered, smiling grimly, wondering the look on the princess's face when she saw her killer was the prince.
Served her right ! the pompous brat. A maniacal grin bloomed on her oval-shaped face.
Another knock sounded on the door, it sounded urgent and hurried, like... Without completing the thought, Emily bashed her thoughts aside. Not deigning to answer, she stood up excited and went to the door, wrenching the wooden handle open. Blue eyes looked out from a head helm, armored breastplate pumping out in front of her, looking muscular...She recognized him, he was one of the dimwits that guarded Adriana's cell. What did he want?
" What is it?!" She snarled annoyed that it wasn't Anlai.
"My Lady...." He gasped through the small piece on his head helm. " ...the prisoner... s-she"
" Yes ..." Emily's lips curled upward. If this was what she thought, that would mean, her plan had succeeded and Adriana was dead. Another obstacle down but the guards' next words broke all her expectations.
"She has escaped. " The guard said urgently briefing her, pulling off his head helm to reveal ruffled brown hair. Without waiting to hear his next words, Emily set forward towards the throne room, her hands clutching the dagger. Just at the same time, the siren sounded.
She'll carve up Adriana herself. Emily thought.