Blood for her Crown

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ciden

Vayne had returned quickly. Dyon, however, had not, much to Ciden's surprise. Nonetheless, they had to begin with the deception.

The assassin didn't apologize, but he did appear sympathetic when he untied the younger Ammadon brother from his chains, sat him down on a chair, and started hitting him. Ciden could tell he wasn't putting all of his strength into the beating, and he was thankful for that. It didn't make it much less painful, though, because the man was stronger than Ciden had imagined.

As he had stood in the corner, chained to the ceiling for hours, he had looked around the room and seen multiple gloves and rings on a shelf close to the door. The gloves glimmered oddly in the dim light, and the rings had all kinds of sharp decorations. He knew Vayne didn't care for jewelry, nor did anyone who had ever lived in this castle. Their kingdom only had one old shop that sold necklaces, wristbands, and rings. People in Alvaros preferred modest lives, even the royal family.

Which meant those rings were not meant to be decorative.

After six hits to his now numb face, Ciden waited for the next punch. When it didn't come, he looked up at the assassin. He just stood there, rubbing his fist and shaking it loosely.

"Thanks for not using those things," Ciden said, nodding at the rings.

Vayne took a glance in that direction and grinned. "Wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face of yours."

"I appreciate it," the prince laughed lowly. "Although a black eye and bruises on my face will do enough for that already."

"It seems believable—"

"Because you believably punched me hard enough," Ciden interrupted.

Vayne chuckled. "I certainly did." He stepped closer and reached into the pocket of his bloodied cloak. "There's just one thing missing." Without another warning, he raised the knife he had just retrieved and lightly cut his cheek.

Ciden hissed and lifted a hand to his face. "What in the world was that?"

"Something no one can usually avoid in here. Be glad it's just one."

"If you wait for my gratitude for that, we'll be here for a while," he grumbled.

"I expected nothing else."

Vayne pulled him up from the chair. "We're done for now. Sleep or whatever it is you choose to do in here. Just stay away from my tools," he warned.

The boy nodded and plopped down on the bed. "If I had wanted to touch those things I would have stolen them and killed Dyon by now. In fact, I'm surprised that you haven't done so by now."

"Yes, of course," Vayne answered seriously, ignoring the last sentence entirely. "Have fun then."

Ciden grimaced at his unexpected humor and dropped his head onto the thin mattress.

After the man left, Ciden rolled onto his side, trying to turn away from the rays of light shining through the small window, and shut his eyes. It took him a few minutes before he fell asleep.

He didn't dream, or at least he couldn't remember anything. He rarely could. And most of the time, he wasn't sure whether or not this was even a bad thing. Most of the ones he had somehow memorized weren't delightful enough to be worth thinking about twice, and he doubted any of the dreams that faded from his mind each night were any better.

His sleep was light enough for him to be ripped from the usual silence when he heard the door slam shut. He stayed on his side and kept his eyes closed, waiting for the intruder to take some steps into the room so he could figure out who it was.

They came closer, and based on the four steps, he guessed it was the assassin. Then, when it was just water that was splashed in his face without the glass following, he knew for sure. He gasped at the sudden coldness and sat straight up. While the water dripped from his hair, he stared up at the man in disbelief.

"Was that truly necessary?" he asked, panting slightly.

Vayne shrugged. "You didn't wake up when I slammed the door."

"Sure, how else would you wake someone?" he mumbled, not mentioning how easily he had actually woken him up.

The man ignored him and pointed to a plate on the table before turning back to the door. "I'll be back tomorrow."

Then that was that. Fine. It wasn't like Ciden appreciated the company of an assassin, but it was certainly getting boring in that chamber after a while. Despite the opportunity being right in front of him, he didn't want to touch the tools and weapons lying around this place. He wouldn't be able to use most of them, didn't dare touch the blades that had cut through several organs, or wouldn't be successful anyhow. Turning against Vayne wouldn't get him anywhere but completely ruin their plan, just so he could run at his brother with a rusted blade.

All he could do was eat his plate filled with fruits, bread, and something that looked like rice and stare out of the tiny window. He attempted to be interested in the view, which consisted of trees, a dark sky, and that was practically it.

If he didn't know any better, he'd think Vayne was tricking him into believing they were on the same page, only to bore him to death.