Something With a Prince

Chapter Twenty-Two: What Makes a Monster?

Arlyn

The messenger's name was Andreas, he was seventeen years old, and when I told his mother how he died I made sure she knew that he was not afraid. He left feeling no pain. Then we buried him beside the soldiers of the past, marking his grave with ceremonial emblems of honor and bravery.

By the time I got back to the castle it was early evening, and there was no trace of what happened in the throne room. Everything continued in its perfect line and order. Servants went back to treading the steps, Feliz and Fredrick were pulling new tablecloths from a wooden chest...the only thing that was different was Elleanor. She sat outside the throne room upon the steps with her hands and dress covered in dried blood. Her eyes and nose were red, and I knew she had been crying. I felt like crying too, but there was more than that. I felt like breaking and smashing. Propelled into the cycle of violence Dominic had been calling me toward from the beginning. I was ready to answer.

The princess saw me as I came in and rose to her feet, "Arlyn--"

"Where is Oveda? I need to talk with her now." Pushing past Elleanor, I took myself up the stairs and toward the war room. Everything was burning and, in every doorway, stood Andreas, bleeding on every privileged item I called dear.

Seeing ghosts. I laughed inwardly, Serving me justice.

"You can't let this pull you down," Elleanor was still following me, her dress rustling as she worked to keep up.

I lurched down another hall, pushing every door open with my fist and yelling for the General. Servants scattered, tucking themselves into corners and shadows. My skin felt disgusting, my brain was on fire. It was as if everything had threatened to pour out right then and there. Every controlled look and carefully chosen sentiment. All the negotiating, pointless, and the precautions, mute, every single god damned attempt at finding a solution including sending my brother across the country into a death sentence-- void! Because someone was dead. They killed him anyway and sent his body as a gift. I killed him.

"Where is she!?" I roared, bursting into the war room only to find it completely empty. A chair was the next casualty as I ripped it out from under the table and lurched it against the floor.

"Arlyn, stop it! This isn't helping."

I whipped around to find Elleanor, who was apparently still following me. My chest was heaving like air was disappearing faster than I could breathe it. I had seen Thea get this way once when she discovered two of the older soldiers had purposely sabotaged her in practice; the result nearly killed the Captain and would have gotten her kicked out had a younger soldier testified that it wasn't Thea's fault. She was still suspended from training for a month. Out of control. Lansing, the same thing. Frightening and senseless. Now here I was, worse than both combined, and loving it. Loving the feeling of not caring for once.

"Get away from me," I snarled, my stomach turning at the state of her dress. Andreas was everywhere, and he kept multiplying in my mind as I could see it happening. Bodies strewn across acres of land. Blood and decay and pain. The face of war taunted me.

Then there was Elleanor. Standing with wide eyes, looking at me like I was a rabid dog. Words escaped me, so I ripped away another chair watching it smash into a table across the room.

She slammed the door behind her and gestured to the room with a stern face, "Go then, smash it to pieces! Do what you have to, but the minute you leave this room you get it together."

"What's the point?!" I was shouting. It was a new sound for me. Anger lifting my voice like an echo. She stepped closer and I raised my hand, backing away. "I'm serious, don't come near me."

"The point is you have people who are counting on you. People who need a level headed leader, and not...this!" She gestured to me in exasperation, then stepped closer. I swallowed down whatever anger I could get hold of, backing toward the main table.

"The point is that war is reality now, and if you cannot stomach one death without losing your head, you are going to lead us all to our graves. Acting on your anger with this blind violence is not your path, Arlyn! It is Dominics. It was your fathers. It will not be yours. Do you understand me?"

Somehow my breathing was slowing, but that fire was steadfast. Unchained. I wanted to give in to it so badly. To unleash hell upon Dominic and then some. To smash his skull under my boots and set fire to all that he holds dear.

"Do you want to be a monster?" She was yelling at me, those brown eyes growing fierce. I didn't care. "Or do you want to be a King?"

"I don't want any of it, because there is no difference!" My body was moving on its own, getting closer to her. "Don't you get it. I killed that kid as much as Dominic did. I am responsible for every person I send out there--"

"Oh, knock it off," She rolled her eyes and pushed into my space as much as I pushed into hers. "They aren't blind sheep going to slaughter, Arlyn. They are human beings who made a choice to serve what they believe in. And right now, they need a leader, not a stupid martyr who can't stomach what must be done! We all have skeletons. Shake hands with yours and do right by your people."

I must have begun to look calmer, because Elleanor stopped yelling at me. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was some blood toward her forehead where her hair was pulled back. It dawned on me, finally, that she had tried to save him. That she had kneeled in the same blood as me and did something to help.

"I am not asking you to be comfortable with the suffering that is on your doorstep." Her hand took mine, "I am asking you to brave it with the rest of them and make a difference by being different. From Dominic or Cassida and whoever else. Only you can do this, Arlyn. But you have to be you in order to get us there. Otherwise...we're lost."

My legs gave out and I fell against the table, sitting with my head hanging low between my shoulders. She came with, still holding my hand. Adrenaline left me with a pounding headache, "It's so heavy, all the time, and I don't think I can carry it."

It came out as a whisper, but I knew she heard it the moment she tilted my chin up to look at her, "I will carry it with you."

I shook my head out of her hand, "No, you should leave. You and your father, before all of this gets ugly. It was selfish to drag your Kingdom into this."

"There's no getting rid of me now." She pressed her other hand against mine, "I've already tried the cake."

That made us both laugh quietly. Elleanor spoke something in Cervadian, then translated it, "My friend, will you marry me?"

I ran my thumb across her knuckles, "I'm supposed to say that you know. There was a whole ordeal about it. My mother planned out everything."

"I know, I saw the doves." She laughed and rolled those inky eyes, "Well, then I propose this." She stepped back and I followed her with my eyes. Elleanor pulled her hand from mine and extended it outward to me, "As my friend, will you fight with me?"

"As your friend," I shook it, gratefully, "I will."