Roland took another step closer to his tent in a daze, Brenna clutching his arm. The smile on her face was one of conquest.
"Miss Brenna!" A voice called from behind them. "Prince Duncan said I'm to escort you back to your tent."
"There is a change of plans. Prince Derek requires my aid," She shooed the guard away.
"He was very adamant that I am responsible to make sure you get safely home." The guard insisted.
"Leave me alone!" She turned around and snapped at him.
The momentary absence of the scent as she turned away was long enough for Roland to get a gasp of fresh air into his lungs.
"Please go," He breathed out the words as forcefully as he could manage. He held his breath as she turned back to him.
She seethed, her fingernails biting into his arm through his tunic. He resisted the urge to gasp, keeping his mouth closed and depriving his lungs of air.
After several tense moments, she released him, flinging his arm away from her and almost causing him to fall. After being dazed by her scent, he was now beginning to suffer from lack of oxygen as he held his breath to avoid recapture.
She stormed away, the guard anxiously on her heels, unaware as to the cause of the young woman's sour mood.
Roland stumbled quickly into his tent and collapsed onto his cot, breathing deeply and heavily of the scentless air. His mind still felt muddy and he was anxious to clear it as quickly as he could. The gravity of the situation he'd barely avoided hit him like a wrecking ball.
Even knowing that magic was at work, even acknowledging that he had escaped unscathed, imagining how much that had almost cost him sent a shudder down his spine. He closed his eyes, a little bit glad the war was coming sooner rather than later. He wanted everything to be over.
His eyes popped back open. All he really wanted was to be miles away from Brenna and within reach of Finn. The runup to war was not only an obstacle to that goal, it was something that threatened the lives of all the people of two nations.
He sighed, finally thinking a little more clearly. Soon, as promised, Titania entered his tent with a cup of tea. He sat up and took it, knowing he would be more effective if his body were in top condition. The twisted ankle hurt some, but who knew whether it would be better or worse come morning.
He took a sip, considering how Titania could easily be lulling him into a false sense of security with the tea. He'd taken it from her often enough during his training, and at any time she could have started slipping something else into the drink. It was a risk each time he took it, but rejecting it and risking offending her would be a risk too.
He felt the sharp pain of the tea going to work, and his injury then felt better.
"I apologize for my clumsiness," He offered after a moment. Though Duncan had orchestrated the fall, he wanted to take what blame he could off of his father.
"No, Derek. You did nothing wrong. Although, now you know to watch yourself more carefully around your father." Her face darkened.
"What do you mean?" He asked innocently. Her manipulations were not always predictable, and he found clarifying questions were the best route to insight.
"Nothing whatsoever, child. I was merely disappointed that your father let his jealousy interfere with your time with Brenna." She smiled, putting on a display of smoothing over her moment of letting irritation show.
"There's nothing to be jealous of, really. I don't have any interest in her." Roland shrugged.
"None at all?" Titania's left eyebrow quirked. "She's beautiful and clever, not the kind of young lady that is rejected lightly. You must have someone else you want to pursue."
Roland took a deep drink of the tea. Blast it all, he'd really wanted to avoid this conversation, and he'd walked right into it. He did his best to show no reaction whatsoever to her words. Hopefully he succeeded well enough.
"My attention should be focused on the coming war, not on romance," He replied as he finished.
"How very wise a statement, but not exactly a denial," She mused. Roland frowned, but kept silent for a moment. He would not be so easily cajoled into revealing any information about Finn.
"I wouldn't dare lie to you, Your Majesty." He replied to remain cryptic but truthful. His fear of being seen through, or of her having some magical way of telling truth from lies had kept him from falsehoods.
She pursed her lips, then smiled. "Again, so wise for one so young. I think you may do great things. Are you truly tired, Derek? Or were you merely eager to escape the romantic clutches of a certain young woman?"
"I am not too tired to do what Your Majesty would order," Roland replied diplomatically, though he was wary of what order she might give.
Titania curved her lips upward and held out her arm to be escorted. He stood and took it, equal parts curious and worried about what she might want from him.
They walked out of the tent and away from the main grouping of tents that constituted the camp. Guards stood aside as they passed in silence, and one handed Roland a lamp to carry as he and the Queen left the lit area of the camp.
"Your father was once great." Titania sighed. "Losing you, and your mother, changed him. I am not sure he can go back to how he was before. He resists me now, despite me always wanting what's best for him. I would have given him Brenna, you know, but he insisted he found some other girl. Of course, she's not suitable at all."
"No?" Roland asked. He weighed her words carefully. He wanted what was best for Klain and all the people, but Ashley's future factored into that as well.
"Of course not. She's the daughter of a spy. Duncan thought he was being so clever, keeping my matchmaking at bay by betrothing himself to some young girl who wouldn't be ready for marriage for years. The information from her father was helpful at first and we needed the man's loyalty, but eventually as his daughter reached the age, she apparently refused--refused!--so now that alliance is worthless.
"And yet, he still did not marry to provide Rhone with a new heir. The line must continue. He's shirking his duties. I know you would not do the same." She smiled at him.
"I thought he was still intending to marry her?" Roland was confused. "To consolidate power in Klain?"
"Is that what he told you?" Titania laughed.
"Yes... to be married to the daughter of a Klain official with his blessing, wouldn't that assure ongoing loyalty?"
"We have no need of his loyalty. Duncan knows this. I'm surprised he kept such a thing from you! I wonder what other secrets he's kept." She lowered her voice as if speaking to herself, but the implication was overt.
"Why don't you have need of his loyalty?" Roland was still unclear about this point.
"Oh, child, come, I will show you." She pulled him along. Resigned to simply following his grandmother's lead for whatever her purpose might be, he silently allowed her to guide him slightly deeper into the woods.
She snapped her fingers and a door into the Darkness appeared. He gave her a sidelong glance as she gestured him forward. Together they stepped through.
"You see, it's been a year now. Duncan could have forcibly taken his new wife at any time. He insists that allowing her to be convinced is the best route." She clucked her tongue.
"A year since what?" Roland held the lamp out into the Darkness, still not getting what Titania was telling him.
"Tell me, did you ever encounter the Provider while you lived in Klain?" Titania changed the subject entirely, as she often did when Roland had questions. It frustrated him to no end, but he held a neutral expression.
"I have seen him." Roland would not commit to anything further. Titania smiled bitterly.
"Then come, see what your father is keeping from you," she stopped their steady pace and gestured forward.
On the ground, tied to one of the strange trees that populated The Darkness, a broken man lay in the dirt. He faced away from the pair, curled partway in on himself. His hands were behind his back, and his feet bound together. There was no gag, as there was never a need for one in the Darkness.
Roland looked curiously at Titania, who tilted her head toward the stranger on the ground. He was alone; there were no other captives nearby.
Walking closer to the tree, Roland extended the lamp forward. Noticing the light of the lamp, the man suddenly rolled over, casting about with wide eyes for the source of it. Had he been asleep?
Roland stiffed suddenly as their gazes locked. Staring back at him, through long, ill-kempt hair and a shaggy beard, was the Provider.