Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 31

Ruben lets out a dry, braying laugh. He marches to the window and peers across the expanse of the kingdom. The sun drips towards the horizon, casting red and gold hues across the sky, matching the blaze in the Tranq building below. Smoke billows into the air, drifting past the window and into the room.

"My father is such a coward," Ruben bellows, gripping the windowsill, glaring out at the view for a moment before hanging his head, feeling the sting of shame. "How can he live with himself?"

My heart calls out to him, wishing I could utter words of comfort or offer a warm touch. But I only hear the screams of agony as men burn to death below and feel the terror clawing its way up my throat. "Look, we should probably leave." My voice trails off as heat fills my cheeks. Why am I never good with words?

He marches back toward me, his cheeks splotchy as the flames roar in the short distance. I wonder, for a moment, if they might burn the palace to the ground. If only. "He has always done this," Ruben growls with such vigour in his voice I flinch. He throws his hand at the window, indicating the general, unknown whereabouts of the king. "Runs away before anyone can challenge him. He punishes them before they can make him question anything. He can't – won't – allow himself to die a lonely and abandoned man. Even if it means others suffer. The coward."

Part of me is rallied by his words, fuelled into a renewed thirst for the king's blood on my sword. The pain in his voice, glimmering in his eyes makes my heart quake. "We will catch him," I say, cringing at the tremor in my tone, at the lack of conviction, feeling like little more than a rabbit in a trap.

"How?" His voice wavers, and strains. "He is always several steps ahead, Elle. And the thing is, I'm not even sure if I will have the courage to kill him myself. But I feel it is my responsibility to do so."

"You don't have to deliver the death blow." Something in my heart chips and I see a glimpse of the little boy in Ruben's eyes. I roll my shoulders back, tracing his movements as he marches back and forth, chewing his lip, and fighting that wild storm within. "I can do that. I can kill him."

He clenches his jaw, running a hand through his hair. "You'd do that?" Those forest eyes render me still. Pain. It tears at my heart.

I shrug, feeling a draft of scorching air blow into the room as the flames climb higher into the Tranq building and the easterly wind carries the sound and smell of the dying, melting men. "I thought it was obvious I would. But yes. I'd do it. For you. For the kingdom."

He draws in a shaky breath. "Do you even know what he did to me as a child? What he still does to me?"

My heart pounds and sweat soaks my palms. "No. I don't." I brace myself for what I'm about to hear.

Ruben sighs, and slumps down on the corner of the couch shoved against a wall. He pats the spot next to him. I sit. The burnt orange shades of the setting sun snap into the room, splashing across his face, brightening the hues of green and flecks of gold. But the darkness behind them does not waver. He draws in a breath.

"Whenever my father decided I was misbehaving or challenging him, he locked me in the prison, the same one you were in. He wouldn't let any of the servants or chefs bring me food. I'd be locked in there for up to a couple of days at a time. I've lost count of how many times he did this to me."

He lets his voice drift off and the words resonate with me. I shudder, swallowing the horror bite by bite.

"So, I do know, to an extent, what it is like to starve," he says, voice flat as if all the colour in him has turned grey.

I know the constant pang and throb in the stomach. The trembling weakness. The lack of energy caused a chronic haze across my mind. I know it all too well. A muscle feathers in his jaw as his eyes water. He blinks, sending the tears away. Ruben knows suffering as do I. He comes from royalty, and I come from the dust and misery of a swollen Convex village. But even still. We all, in some way, stumble through darkness. Is suffering just a promised human condition? Or is it something we create for one another? I realise then, that he and I are not as different as I thought.