There was no clock in the bedroom prison. No way to mark the passing of time other than the lengthening of shadows and growing darkness.
She knew there were guards outside the door-- even though they made no sound. She had called to them several times, begging them to let her go to the Prince, asking for even a word of his condition, but they never answered, and her voice grew hoarse from shouting.
A tray was brought in just before it became fully dark. The man who brought it wore Bludston colors and looked familiar-- likely one of the Prince's personal servants. He glanced from the broken window, to the pile of ripped up sheets on the bed, to Talia sitting on the floor wrapped in only an oversized robe, and frowned, setting the tray on the ground before her. She lunged forward and caught the servant's arm.
"Please... Prince Mikhail is he... is it over? Is he... can I see him?" She asked in a quiet, raspy voice.
"Our Prince is unwell. He is resting now," the man answered quickly.
"Is he... is he still in pain?" Her voice trembled as she spoke.
"I wouldn't know," the servant said, pulling his arm from her grasp to stand up.
"Can I see him? I only need a few minutes-- will you ask if-"
"Our Prince is resting now," the servant repeated. "I will send a message that the Princess requests an audience when he wakes."
With that, the man turned and shut the door. She could hear the bolt slide back into place, and the low murmur of voices before darkness and silence again descended on the room.
Did the man lie to her? Was Prince Mikhail truly resting? Had he survived? She would not be told if he hadn't.
Had the Emperor learned of his brother's sudden illness? It seemed unlikely that he would not know what happened beneath his own roof.
The Emperor... had sacrificed her sister to the ancient ones. That was a realization she had largely set aside while worrying about the Prince's fate, but it hung over her like a dark storm cloud, ready to burst open and rain down on her at any moment.
Prince Mikhail spoke the truth when he said that he sought to protect her from the Emperor. If the Prince died, then the Emperor would seek her hand and then perhaps, offer her to the ancient ones as well. Her only chance would be to refuse him no matter what he offered and trust in her as yet unknown allies.
However, without Prince Mikhail to advocate for her--
"Stop it!" She hissed, chastising herself.
Prince Mikhail was not dead! He couldn't be, not by her hand.
No. He would survive, and when they next spoke, she would ask him to forgive her. They could truly be allies now. That is... if he still wanted to be allies.
The memory of Prince Mikhail slapping the bottle from her hand and demanding she be taken out as she tried to help him, came back to her vividly, and she shivered.
From his point of view, even though he could not communicate his intent, he did his best to protect her, and she had turned on him, attempting to kill him. He would have to be very foolish to trust her after tonight.
Talia rubbed her throbbing head and groaned. It was almost funny how there seemed to be no lowest point for her to reach.
The starving times were horrible, but compared to the days she lost Father and Oleg, they became the happy days when her family was all together. Losing both Father and Oleg seemed the worst of times, but the day she received word that Ora had died, and that she was the last of House Eosin, she was certain she would never know a greater loss.
But there was, indeed, more she could lose. The morning she'd realized that Vezda could no longer fight, but would fall to the Empire, and she had agreed to surrender-- that under her rule, the country her family had protected for more than a thousand years was lost... that day she'd believed there was no farther to fall. She'd easily agreed to give her life for whatever small concessions the Emperor offered Vezda partly because she could not live with the shame of her failure.
And then she'd awoken a prisoner of the Empire, without her family, without her countrymen, without her title, without even her freedom and learned that her sacrifice had gained nothing and she realized that there was, after all, farther to fall, and that she should never doubt it again.
Now she sat on the floor behind a locked door... without her clothes, pride, freedom, the comfort of a clear conscience, or a single living being to call a friend. The enemy she'd fought for so long, was no longer a sadistic human Emperor, but a monster in league with greatest evil known to man-- the ancient ones-- beings so powerful that armies of her ancestors had been vanquished by them.
There was nothing left for her. She had nothing and no one... Only a bowl of stew on a tray before her...and it was cold.
Talia giggled maniacally as she eyed the watery broth.
What would it be next? Perhaps in a year's time she would look back on this moment as the happy time when she still had all her limbs intact and the ability to use her hands to eat...
Talia laughed harder burying her face against her knees.
This was hysteria. She could feel the fear creeping in, even as she continued to laugh. She needed to get herself under control and quickly.
Talia stood and began pacing, taking deep breaths and pounding her fist against her chest as though she could beat the fear and frenzy from her body.
The room grew even colder as the night wore on, and even after the terrified laughter had left her, she continued to pace and slap at her arms and chest to keep her body warm.
It should be over by now. She should receive word in the morning whether or not the Prince had lived or died. She would not sleep until that word came. It was the least-
The door groaned on its hinges as it swung open, and Talia blinked against the sudden brightness of a lantern held aloft.
She could make out the dark figure of a man standing in the doorway, but not his face.
"The Prince...?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Has recovered," answered Ilya, as he closed the door and set the lantern on a side table. As Talia's eyes adjusted to the light, she could see his face and realized that he was staring at her appraisingly.
"Can I... see him now?" She asked, clasping her hands together without realizing it.
Ilya frowned and glanced toward the broken window.
"It's cold in here," he said, and then, noticing the only chair in the room, walked over to it and sat down.
Instead of answering him or repeating her question, Talia simply remained standing and watched him. It was clear that he meant to have a discussion with her. Prince Mikhail might have even sent him with a message.
"Did you know?" Ilya asked crossing his arms over his chest as he studied her. "Did you know before you poisoned him... that... did you know what would happen to... to me?"
His last words seemed difficult for him to say, and Talia winced as she realized that he was in pain. Like Prince Mikhail, Ilya was also bound by the same distorted marks, and could not speak on some matters.
"You mean... did I understand how the marks affect you both? Not entirely, no. I believed that they were an old and simple form of magic called a blood bond... but blood bonds are little more than a secrecy pact with consequences. The blood magic done to the two of you is different... darker and twisted in nature," Talia admitted. "I have never seen the like."
Ilya nodded as if he expected her answer.
"And did you know that what you do to him, you also... it is... to me..." Ilya struggled to finish his sentence, twisting uncomfortably in his seat. She could see the pained expression on his face as he struggled to speak.
"NO!" she answered quickly. "No, I did not know that what was done to him would also be done to you. I did not know until you came into the room and I saw you both... at the same time... I didn't know. Blood bonds don't normally work that way!"
"So... these 'blood bonds you speak of... when the master dies... what becomes of the slave?" Ilya asked, and cleared his throat.
"There is no master nor slave in a blood bond pact. It is simply two people who make an agreement to keep a secret. If one dies, then the other is free of the pact," she explained.
Ilya smirked.
"That is very different indeed," he said in a strained voice.
Talia was confused for a moment, and then she caught her breath in shock.
"What you're saying is that if Prince Mikhail is killed, then you die as well... and that means that if the Emperor dies..." Talia covered her mouth almost reflexively and sat down on the bed.
"Does the Emperor suffer when the Prince does? Would he die if the Prince is killed?" Talia asked and then winced at the thought that had flown from her mouth before she could stop it.
Ilya opened his mouth, and his face contorted in pain. He twisted uncomfortably in his seat again, and Talia realized that he was struggling to find a way to answer her.
"Do you think... that our Prince... is a coward?" He asked through clenched teeth.
Talia considered his words for a moment. Prince Mikhail was obviously not a man with a weak heart. What Ilya meant to say was that if the Emperor could be defeated in such a way, Prince Mikhail would likely have already cut his own throat.
She nodded her understanding. Ilya had said it before... the words 'master and slave'. The Emperor was the master of Prince Mikhail, and Prince Mikhail was Ilya's. It meant that if Mikhail were to die, Ilya would fall with him. It also meant that if the Emperor was murdered, the Prince would die as well.
"We were friends once, you know. Long ago when we were children. Prince Mikhail and I..." Ilya frowned and rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. "We are much the same, you and I. Both of us his slaves, both of us subject to his whims."
Talia froze as if she had been insulted. Though it was true that she had been handed over to him as a prisoner of war to do with as he pleased, she had never thought of herself as a slave-- and surely, the Prince had never treated her like one. Besides, Ilya had never behaved or functioned in the manner of a slave either. He must be testing her.
"From what I've seen, Prince Mikhail seems to hold you in very high esteem. He treats you well and-"
"Do you think so?" Ilya smirked. "Yes, I suppose he's been a generous master at times. You could say the same. He treats you well, doesn't he? And yet... and yet you had no qualms about poisoning him or even killing him just a few hours ago."
"I did not mean to kill him!" Talia insisted.
"But you must have realized it was a possibility and yet you did not shrink from it."
"I did not realize that the Emperor held his chains by blood magic!" Talia defended herself.
"Ahhh... you believe that all the evil... all the bad things he's done, were because the Emperor ordered it. You believe that Prince Mikhail is an innocent and good man trapped by circumstance," Ilya nodded slowly as he spoke.
Talia did not know how to reply to this. What was Ilya suggesting? He had never spoke ill of Prince Mikhail before. What did he mean by it?
"And you are saying that he is not... that even without the Emperor's compulsion, he would do great evil in the world?" Talia scoffed.
Ilya was silent for a moment, and in his non response, she understood his answer.
"We could help each other," Ilya said at last. "You have... knowledge... and other skills as well, the type of knowledge and skills that no one has outside of House Eosin. You are perhaps the only one who could..." Ilya grimaced, unable to finish his sentence, but he did not need to. She understood what he wanted.
"And how would you help me?" She frowned.
"In a multitude of ways. Did you know that the king of the Blackside Islands is the one demanding the council be held? He is traveling here now, I learned of it only today. You will not be allowed to speak with him before the council is held... but you could get a message to him if someone were to assist you."
Talia watched Ilya carefully, but the man had no tells. He was not asking her to plot directly against the Prince, but it still seemed suspicious to her.
"I promised Prince Mikhail already... I said that I would try to find a way to break the bond for him," she admitted.
"For him..." Ilya repeated and sighed heavily. "Do you know he means to marry you?"
"Yes... before he became ill, we spoke of it."
"And you will agree to marry him?" Ilya frowned.
"I... if the Prince has not changed his mind, then--"
"That is... disappointing. I had not thought you so foolish," Ilya chided her.
"Perhaps it seems foolish to you, but the Prince has agreed to aid Vezda with gold and supplies," Talia snapped.
"And would it not aide Vezdans more to have their Princess returned to them?" Ilya raised an eyebrow.
"It is you who is foolish if you believe that the Emperor would be willing to--"
"The Emperor might not have the choice. Why do you think King of Blackside is traveling here even as we speak? Do you think he merely means to investigate your treatment here? No. He could send his aides for that. He has already declared the Treaty of Fronov to be invalid before the Council. He travels here with supporters to demand your release, but you would chose to stay and bind yourself to Prince Mikhail? Indeed I do think it foolish!" Ilya scoffed.
"That... that is not true," Talia shook her head at him.
"Why... because Prince Mikhail told you different?" Ilya taunted. "And even though you tried to kill him... you find him trustworthy?"
Talia shook her head again, pressing her fingers to her temples. That couldn't be true! The girls at the shop had also believed it was an investigation. Why was Ilya doing this? Did he truly mean to poison her against his master?
Ilya watched her with an annoyed expression.
"Perhaps you should speak to him yourself..." he mused aloud. "Yes, perhaps you might not be so blind to the truth if you were to see--"
"Can I see him? Will you take me to him?" Talia asked, looking up at once.
Ilya considered the request while frowning to himself. Although he was the one to mention it, he seemed divided about whether or not to allow her to speak with the Prince.
"Very well," he said at last, standing up. "If that is what you want... he did not forbid it. But remember this, if you should discover that he has not been truthful with you... if you want your freedom... remember my offer."
"Yes, yes," she agreed at once.
"Do not regret it," Ilya warned.