Chapter Twenty-Nine

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Elisheva was starving; her throat was parched. The food that was brought to her always had mold growing on it. She wouldn't touch the food. Whenever one of Greta's guards brought the food to her, she would push it back through the cell. Her sister didn't care if she starved or not. It had been three days since she was brought to this cell and since Greta had invited her party to the capital.

The door to the dungeon opened, causing Elisheva to jump up. Greta appeared in her sight, smirking proudly. "Now's the time, sister." She motioned for one of her guards to step forward.

Elisheva kept her eyes on her sister as she held her wrists out. The guard clasped her wrists in chains before pulling her out of the cell. Elisheva looked over at her sister. Greta was wearing a tight black dress, clinging to every curve. A long slit was cut at the front of her dress, revealing sharp heels. Her crown was perfectly set on the top of her head. "You look nice, sister."

Greta's smirk fell to a sneer as she rolled her eyes. "Let's get going. You don't want to be late. You're the entertainment." Greta's proud smirk spread across her face once again. She turned and proceeded to walk through the dungeon.

--

Metcalf leaned against the brick wall, watching the parade of soldiers moving toward the middle of the square. His eyes searched for Elisheva, but he couldn't spot her or the Queen.

"Be patient, brother," Aden spoke quietly from beside him. They had positioned themselves on a tall hill protected by the heavy shadow of old abandoned buildings. From their position, they were able to watch the procession from above.

Metcalf took a deep breath, working hard to regulate his breathing. His muscles contracted with worry. He was itching to get his hands on anyone who had hurt his Princess since she was taken from him. "I know, Aden."

"All of us are ready for this nightmare to end," his brother continued.

"I need to see her," Metcalf breathed. His hands clenched by his sides.

Aden turned to look at Metcalf. "She'll be with the Queen. We know that, Metcalf. Just be patient."

A sharp whistle caught both of their attention. They moved further into the shadow, hiding themselves from the precision of soldiers moving into the square. The whistle came from their intel around the square. Metcalf's heart rammed into his chest as he took in the scene.

"Elisheva," he whispered, unable to use his full voice.

"Remember the signals," Aden reminded him.

Metcalf forced his feet to stay put. His first instinct was to run to Elisheva, kill everyone in his path, and hold her tight against him. He wanted to take her back to Exilium, where they were alone, and she was safe. Although, he knew his brother was correct. He needed to stick to the plan for this to work.

A large crowd quickly surrounded the Queen and Elisheva. The Queen's guards formed a tight circle around her and the Princess. The people screamed obscenities and raised their fists to what they were witnessing. The Queen smiled as she rolled her shoulders back, standing taller. She moved to the side, allowing the guard to pull Elisheva forward. Metcalf couldn't help the growl that fell out of his mouth. He watched as the guard chained Elisheva's wrists to a wooden pole above her head.

"Time to move," Aden clapped a hand on Metcalf's shoulder.

--

Elisheva held her head high as her arms began to feel heavy from being locked above her head. Greta's manic laugh surrounded her as she moved in front of Elisheva. "I'm going to enjoy this," she sneered.

Elisheva glared at her while listening to the villagers screaming her name, calling for her release and Greta's demise. Her eyes searched quickly, scanning every villager's face for a glimpse of Metcalf. She couldn't see him. She wouldn't blame him for being mad at her after the stunt she had pulled, but she needed him. He was the one who gave her courage. Elisheva closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming her senses. She needed to be calm if she was going to kill her sister.

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