The Faintest Ink (Watty Winner 2015)

Chapter Ninety-Five

"The insolence," said the Princess, ramming her palm onto the door before turning on her heel and pacing back the other way. "The absolute arrogance of him."

"You said, your highness," said Blue, keeping her head lowered.

"The conceit," continued the princess, ignoring the maid and spinning round once to continue her march back towards the door.

"Yes, Princess."

"As if I would ever agree to such a thing. Marriage! To a man such as that. Not even a man," she sneered. "A boy," she added, ignoring the fact that Larst was at least a couple of years older than herself. "If he thinks keeping me in a prison would be enough to get me to give up my crown to him, and have myself pensioned off to the countryside, he is very much mistaken. He'll have to name me first..." she said.

She turned again, heading back to the window. "He wouldn't dare do that. He says he would, but I don't believe him. He wants to rid the world of name-magic, it would be beneath him to use it on me. He wouldn't lower himself to do it." She shoved a stray curl behind her ear impatiently. "I'm sure of it," she said, but whether it was for her own benefit or the maid's she wasn't so convinced.

"He's weak," she finished.

"Yes, your highness," said Blue, with just a hint of exasperation in her voice.

The princess shot at glance at Blue, but the maid looked unrepentant. The princess pressed her lips together, but managed not to say anything. The last thing she needed was to make an enemy of her own maid. She had seen Blue walk out to the courtyard with Calantha. Two women amongst a herd of men, and only one of them managed to return. She didn't want the same thing happening to her.

She went back to her pacing. Door to window and back again. She couldn't stand still. Her muscles fought to be allowed to run, but there was no where to go. She was like an animal trapped in a cage.

A loud pounding on the door startled her.

"Who's that?" she whispered, but Blue only shook her head and shrugged.

The princess licked her lips and tried to think. She wasn't exactly in a position to expect visitors, so whoever was on the other side of that door, it couldn't be for anything good.

Despite herself, she found her gaze darting towards the window. The Eastern Tower spiralled high above the roof of the Citadel. It was a long way down, with smooth, shear walls on stone, with nothing by cobblestones at the bottom to great her if she fell. But it wouldn't be falling if she jumped. It was an ignoble death, but anything was better than being named by her father's assassins.

As the sun sank below the Citadel walls, she could only just make out the scaffold, lying squat in the shadows, no doubt still stained with Calantha's blood. They hadn't even bothered to dismantle it. Perhaps they weren't even planning to go through the bother of naming her. A blade may be all that was waiting for her.

No, they still needed her. Her life at least, if not her will.

She'd be damned if they'd get either.

"Well, answer it," she ordered.

Blue stared at her for a moment, but did as she was told.

The princess found herself fluffing out her skirts and smoothing down her hair as the door creaked open, and when she turned around she was surprised to find it was not the assassin, but someone she knew quite well.

"Ambassador," she breathed with relief as she took in the small man who had been the court delegate of Pryvia ever since she was a child. She'd always valued his company. He gave such generous presents.