Burning To Cinders

Ethics and Reasons

She had absorbed his words silently, turning away to the window. The sun was steadily sinking but the hours till nightfall were still numerous. He accepted her silence and resumed his pacing, turning his mind back to the safer topic of their escape. This time she let him.

Drawn into a ball, she opened her weary eyes, the remains of the afternoon sun slanted across his face as he sat once more opposite her, his eyes impassive as they watched her.

"I slept," Hoarse from misuse, she croaked the statement and he offered a tired smile.

"One of us should have got some rest," She nodded biting her cheek.

"If you want to rest, I can keep watch?" This time- for a fraction of a second- his grin reached his eyes before, with a sigh; he glanced around the small room, lingering on the door.

"She should be coming soon," He said softly and with a thrill of fear her eyes flickered to the door quickly, expecting to see the wild fury of her Stepmother. The touch of his hand had her attention flashing back to him, his hands collecting hers between them and he trapped her in a steady gaze.

“I need you to listen to me, trust me if you can,” his voice held the quiet authority she’d heard him regard his men with. Opening her mouth to question his abrupt sombreness, he cut her off. “Listen Cindy,” hesitating she nodded. “I’m going to work the rack forward,” he began, tilting his head back at the ceiling high wine rack at his back “You’ll hide behind it, when I say I want you to push it over,” He spoke quietly but firmly and she sucked in a short breath, shaking her head. “As soon as you have, I need you to run for the door, take my horse and ride to the castle-”

“Eric,” She protested, he tightened his hands around hers.

“Find the Prince, tell him what’s happened,” Run to the Prince? The order in itself was enough to terrify her and it showed plainly on her face.

“Why? Why can’t you?” Her voice hitched and she ignored his attempts at hushing her.

“There’s the pistol to think of,” he pointed out and she felt the last of the blood drain from her face. “I’m trained, I can handle it,” He added softly and she moved her hands to clutch his. He would not be the first trained man to die on her watch.

“You would kill her,” She whispered and his brow shot up, frowning.

“I would keep you safe,” he corrected evenly and she shook her head.

“I will not kill her,” his expression was pure disbelief but she did not waver. “I will not be like her!” She insisted. He locked his jaw, glancing away in irritation.

“Now is not the time for ethics Cindy,” She simply shook her head again, ignoring his impatience. The package in her pocket weighed heavily and she knew that she had to trust him with this, ask his help. Taking a deep breath, taking in the fermented mull of wine and the dusky scent she could only describe as him, she forced her eyes bravely to his and to speak with confidence.

“I need you to listen to me now, to trust me if you can,” She quoted softly, but not a flicker of lightness passed his face. Releasing on of his hands she dipped it into her traveling coat, finding the package that had been sticking into her side uncomfortably since she obtained it- too fearful to take it out near the presence of the Prince. Curiosity lit Eric’s eyes, but he held his peace, waiting for her to explain to him. Pulling on the frayed string, the knot unravelled and she scattered the old papers out between them, pulling her legs up to cross. “All the money that my father stole, every trace of evidence, it’s all in here,” His eyes narrowed onto it, his brows furrowing and his head tilting slightly in a manner she knew meant he was thinking deeply. Finally he looked up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.