I'll Protect You (Re-Edit #2, 2016)

Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Cimerian Speed-Walker of the Year

It made sense, though it irked me like no other. Once I had been released from the hospital, I had spent most of my time with Jasper, who had told me that since I was to be a witness for the Blackewell trial, it became extremely important that information was barred from me to keep me from potentially committing perjury. 

I sat on the bench, concocting a list of ways I could torment Logan for not telling me anything when footsteps began cutting through the silence. I jerked upright, feeling my heart miss a beat for a moment due to the sudden noise before I calmed myself down, realizing that it was just someone walking down the halls. 

In a few minutes, a tall, lanky man with incredibly long skinny legs around fifty stopped before me and bowed, arm barred against his chest. A streak of silver ran through his black hair and as he fixed his suit jacket, something glinted on the cuff of his wrist--a silver circle banded around a capital 'F,' with two lines intersecting in the ring.  

"Your Highness," he greeted. "My name is Mordecai Sterling, and I will be accompanying you to the regius atrium."

My eyes recognized the crest of the Fells sewed onto the breast pocket of his suit and a wry smile spread across my lips. Of course Frederick Fell would send someone who worked for his clan to accompany me. He would love to be the one to report any compromise of my integrity (you know, because the marble statues just had so much to say to me).

"And here I thought you came out to keep me company," I joked. He didn't laugh. Then again, with a name like Mordecai, I don't think humor would be my forte either.  

I managed a weak chuckle before getting to my feet. Once I stood upright, Mordecai straightened his suit jacket and walked off. Careful not to put too much pressure on my ankle, I followed him, though I had nothing on his rapid speed. He was already halfway down the hall while I limped behind him, cursing underneath my breath. This is why Frederic Fell sent Mordecai--to rub it in my face that Mordecai didn't look like a penguin waddling on Drageryian Hall.  

At one point, I even lost the Cimerian Speed-Walker of the Year. He had turned a corner, away from the large black doors that were right ahead of us, and within a blink of an eye, he was gone. Slightly confused, I followed Mordecai anyway, though wondering why he wasn't knocking on the black doors. 

Somehow, down the halls, I found myself standing in front of three different entrances--Mordecai nowhere in sight. In the end, I chose the hall that smelled too strongly of cologne, knowing that the statues weren't the ones donning Armani.  

Luckily for me, some thirty feet away, Mordecai reappeared before me, turned to the left, his finger pointing in that direction. He smiled at me before heading off by himself, and with a grumble, I squared my shoulders and followed him, wondering how much trouble I would get into if I threw my heel into the back of his head. 

I caught him standing by a small black door, and it hit me again that I wasn't going to be simply watching Abigail Blackewell's trial, but participating in it. Of course I couldn't use the front entrance--that was for public access.   Anyone taking part in the trial was to enter through a private entrance instead. 

A bit nervous, my muscles tensed and I stepped forward just as Mordecai pulled open the door for me. 

And then I was walking into the regius atrium, my gaze meeting the crowd that had gathered in the black seats stationed behind black railings, which divided the great hall into two distinct settings. The mumbles of the crowd subdued as I headed further into the open space. Light from the glazed roof spilled onto the marble flooring, bringing an ethereal glow to the atrium. 

I strode past two different deities of justice and peace, both from different religions. There was a stand raised by one statue--and in the seat was Abigail Blackewell. Her blonde hair now hung in limp strands pooling to her chest. She wore a plain black ensemble with silver chains glinting on her wrists. She looked as hollow as a corpse, her eyes drooping with shadows underneath them. She lacked color and spirit, her blue eyes no longer icy but defeated.