The Way We Fall

Chapter 145 (Roche)

Roche had never spent so much time in the dungeons, which was quite a statement from her considering how many times Tigris had sent her there. She straightened, wincing at the ache in her back. It had been several weeks since Finn's attempted coup, but rubble still littered the grounds of the solitary wing. Every time she looked over at the place she'd been trapped in with the prince, she felt a small shiver go up her spine.

"More water?" a young teenage boy asked her, running up to her side with a small cup. She nodded, accepting the refreshing drink with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Bart."

The boy shot her a small smile. "Got anything for me today?"

Roche sighed, digging a hand into her pockets and drawing out a chunk of stone. "This one is from Cell 182. It housed a bandit by the name of Gyrund, who was known for his rather successful heists of the castle vaults. He evaded capture for three years and hid his stolen goods throughout various kingdoms. All of the stolen items have still not been recovered today."

Bart's eyes widened with fascination. He took the rock with careful hands, turning it over. He stilled, trembling with excitement. "Is that his signature? He etched it into the stone?"

"I'd like to think so," Roche told him with a sly smile, "The stone also kind of looks sculpted, does it not?"

"Yeah," Bart breathed, holding the rock up to the light, "Like a tiny statue. Think he was trying to do a self portrait?"

"In his cell? With what tools?" Roche prodded, feeling a tiny bit of satisfaction as curiosity lit the boy's eyes up. He turned the stone over in his hands, his lips set with determination.

"I bet I could figure out how he could do it."

"Go on. Tell me what you find." she told him. Bart shot her a determined nod, tucking the stone carefully into his pocket before running off. Roche smiled after him before grabbing her pickaxe once again. She wasn't great with children, but Bart was of the curious sort. He and his friends often asked Roche to tell them stories. They were patient too, and waited for her to stammer through the entire tale and all of her side tangents. They were good kids, and Roche often tried to bring them tiny objects of fascination.

"Tigris is going to kill you if she sees you playing with rocks again," a voice sounded behind her. Roche turned, finding Brom smirking at her, leaning on his sword. She raised her brows at him.

"And she certainly won't like it if you break yet another sword or blunt it," she pointed out. Brom's lips tilted downwards.

"Ah, but I need something to lean on or my back will pay the price."

As if in sympathy, Roche's own back twinged. She swung her pickaxe weakly at the rocks. "Gee, can't imagine what that's like. Shouldn't you be helping?"

Brom shrugged, "I'm just on patrol duty."

"How wonderful," Roche narrowed her eyes at him, "Try that again with the truth."

Brom sighed, pulling his pickaxe out from behind his back. "Fine. I'm trying to skip my shift, want to come?"

"Brom!" Roche chided, "This hall isn't going to clean itself."

"Neither is the super secret tunnel that I'm supposed to be cleaning all on my own," he said, frowning dramatically.

Roche sighed. "Fine. I'll help you clean the tunnel. But I want a good story in return."

"Deal."

Roche trudged through the debris, following Brom to the secluded tunnel. Tigris had posted guards near the tunnel entrances within the castle discreetly. She didn't want to draw attention to their existence in case another Council sympathiser was amongst their midst, but she didn't want to leave the castle undefended either. She'd settled for ensuring that the guards patrolled by the tunnels every few minutes on high alert. No one except for Roche, Ivie, Sir Harold, Ruth, Brom, and Kai knew about the tunnels, which meant that only their group could assist in the clean up in that region.