The Prince of Ilios

Eighty-Four

"I have invited my allies for a feast tonight. Before, each province will sign over their allegiance to me. I believe the prisoners in the dungeon will be enough to entice them to come. I sent the invitations last week." Cyrus smiled. He patted her hand on his arm. They were in their warmest winter attire, taking a stroll around the garden.

Ellora had stopped fighting their meetings at this point. Cyrus figured it was a matter of time before she realized what was best for her future. And that would be to side with him, of course. He turned to look at her face, expressionless. She had gotten a lot better at hiding her emotions. He couldn't read her reaction at all. It disappointed him, but it also meant that he was very close to breaking her. He smiled at the thought of Nicola returning to find his love completely and utterly changed, ruined.

"I will be in attendance." She stated flatly.

He noticed she was having trouble keeping up. Her body had begun to get exhausted more often, as though the life was slowly draining from her. He did not give it much thought, but he knew the curse had been taking its toll, poisoning her slowly from the inside out, "The curse is wearing you out, again."

Her brow raised at his observation. It was not like Cyrus to take account of her pain, what do you want this time? "You are the one who put it there."

"Yes, I could also take it away." He sat her down on the stone bench. Snowflakes floated in on the breeze.

"And what would be the price of that?"

"Set a date, and marry me. After our wedding night, I will remove it." Cyrus replied.

She looked away from him, "I will not marry you willingly, Your Majesty. You know that." Her hands were folded neatly in her lap. Her tone seemingly uncaring.

"Fine, I will set the date. I think next week, the third day of the week. We'll invite the whole kingdom, and we will provide a lunch. That will definitely win them over and solidify my position as a King who can take care of them."

"That is not much time to prepare." She retorted, swallowing the bile in her mouth.

"It will be plenty. The servants will work day and night. Everything must be the best, for you my Queen." He caressed a curl away from her face. His hand resting on her neck.

"Ha, don't pin that on me. You just want to complete your revenge." Her facade was cracking. Cyrus smiled in response, finally, some emotion.

"Think what you will." She was indeed beautiful. Although he was far from deserving, he had started to like having someone around to talk to. He hooked her chin with the crook of his finger. She turned to look at him. No matter what expression she tried to hold on her face, her eyes always held the truth. The fiery storm in her gaze took his breath away, "But, you will be mine." He planted a kiss firmly on her lips, placing his hand at the back of her neck, he drank in as much as he could. Suddenly a sharp pain met him in the middle of the kiss. He released her and wiped his lip. Bleeding. He looked back at her, a smile spreading across his lips, "You bit me?"

"You do not deserve any more." She replied, trying to keep her cool. He had gone too far this time, trampled too much on her. She was so close to being ready to fight him in her training. She had learned so much from Derya. However, she could not do it today, not until she was sure that she could win. It would be worse for everyone if she wasted the way he underestimated her. She ground her teeth together in frustration.

Cyrus chuckled, "It seems that I have not been strict enough with you." He grasped her hand, dragging her back into the castle.

"Do what you will, lock me away in my room again. What do I care?" She said boldly.

He dragged her to the throne room. On the way in he spoke to Alyn, "Go get Derya and bring her here." Alyn nodded solemnly and left to carry out the order.

Cyrus sat down on the throne and tugged Ellora onto his lap. His iron grasp made it so that she could not easily escape.

Derya was brought in by two guards.

Cyrus looked up at Ellora. Her eyes followed the girl, her expression was less determined than before. Cyrus sneered, "I think it is time that I teach you your place, little dove. Which is at my side, and silent."

The guards forced Derya to kneel.

Ellora looked from Derya to him, her worry finally showing on her face, "Whatever you are going to do, don't. It is not her fault, it's mine, punish me."

He patted her knee, standing to take his place in front of her, "That's just it. This is to punish you. It is far more effective with good people such as yourself. Your loyalty is your downfall. The way you put yourself out there for others is your weakness." He waved the guards a few paces back.

Derya stood, trying to think of a way to kill Cyrus. She could not afford to be a frightened little girl today. She had to think of something quickly, it may be her last opportunity.

Cyrus held up his hand as Derya began to run at him, ready for the fight. In a blur Ellora grasped at his arm, trying to move it, but it was like trying to move a cement wall. She screamed at him, desperate to stop him from killing Derya. She wasn't strong enough to fight him. He fired. Ellora collapsed as she heard the momentary scream of her friend before she was silenced by scorching fire.

There were no more tears. Ellora was swallowed up by the hollowness of her own situation. She was the pawn, despised by everyone, and all she got in return was powerlessness to change anything. It was dark, it was empty, it was hopeless. Her body was numb as she finally looked over at what was left of Derya. She blinked slowly, as though in the middle of a nightmare.

Cyrus stomped out of the room, muttering something to the guards that Ellora could not hear. She barely felt the time pass, but when her servant finally got her to stand, it was late evening, the moon already high in the sky. She mindlessly went back to her room. Her maid dressed her up for the feast. She wordlessly made her way to Cyrus' side for the evening, silently sitting in a fog of numbness as he celebrated next to her. When the evening was finished she was escorted back to her room, where she lay awake all night.

-

The next morning she was dressed and prepared. She ate in a daze, wishing only to return to her bed and pretend the whole thing had been a nightmare. But she knew the truth. At the time when Derya would have come to her room, Vincent appeared. He wordlessly left a letter for her on the desk and disappeared again. Her hand hovered over it, but refused to open it. All of her caring all of her emotion, for what? It constantly caused others pain, even death. What was the use of even opening it? But if it was from Cyrus, she would need to act accordingly. Her hand slowly opened the seal. She did not even feel the papercut she gained, nor taste the blood when she instinctively sucked on it. She shook out her hand, and read the letter.

Loraby,

I know I have been distant, as you have seen for good reason. I did not want to give anything away. But time is not on our side anymore. We have to act. We cannot lose anymore people to Cyrus. I know that this is hard on you, but don't lose hope. The sun will rise again.

Sincerely,

Alyn

Ellora chuckled at the perilousness of it all. She had seen what Cyrus could do, and Alyn was no match for his conniving and scheming ways. Her chuckle turned into a full on laugh, not really knowing how to handle the overwhelming emotions that she had. It finally happened, I have gone insane. She thought as the shaky laughs turned into tears and sobs. Perhaps there was no way to win this. Maybe this is what it would be like forever.