I - Breath of Flame

Chapter 16 - I am His, He is Mine

        Aleksandra, as was her name, for Dareon didn't really pay attention and just stared at the King instead of the girl that made his blood boil. She bowed slightly; it was a stiff gesture.

        Dareon bit into the last part of his apple.

        "Your grace, I apologize. I haven't been feeling my best, but I see you're in worse condition. Such a young king, your mother would be proud." The girl's voice was flat.

        "Our mother," the King corrected, and Dareon couldn't help but feel as if he was intruding on some kind of special reunion. "And I know you don't think that way. I apologize for never telling you the truth, and you must hate me now... But my mother and father are gone, and though it may not be true, they were your parents for a while. And don't treat me with such courtesies and respect, you shouldn't have to. You are—though not through blood—my sister, and I would never change that. I'm also sorry for never visiting when you were in the Witch's Cage. To say that I was constantly overwhelmed with company would only be an excuse."

        Dareon discreetly sat the apple core beside him. Throwing it out now would be rather awkward.

        Aleksandra looked up at her 'brother', as Dareon would put it. "I'm sorry for not attending the ceremony, or visiting you once I was released," she said slowly. Then she lifted her arms up awkwardly, and to Dareon's awe, the King closed the door behind him and walked over to the girl, throwing a desperate embrace around her. She awkwardly wrapped her arms around him, a crooked, uncomfortable smile on her face.

        Then something seemed to crack in her facade, and she pulled the king into a tighter hug. Dareon stared, slack-jawed at the spectacle. The girl was capable of that?

        "He's dead," a muffled whisper came from the King who's head was tucked into the crook of the princess' neck. "And the last thing I told him was to sod off, that I didn't want to become King, and that he was leaving all this responsibilty to me, and—and that I hated him. I'm only seventeen for God's sakes, and now he's gone and he probably thinks I never loved him." The voice broke and sniffles suddenly emerged.

        Aleksandra rubbed the boy's back, between his shoulder-blades, whispering softly, "you cry more often than I ever did. I take back what I said, Mother would never be proud of that."

        This coaxed a laugh from the King who peered over Aleksandra's shoulder, gaze landing on the silent figure who had been sitting in the corner since the beginning. Dareon froze in the focus of the glare that was thrown at him. The striking brown eyes that the boy carried seemed to freeze him in place, and in a commanding voice the noble said, "leave us. I'd like to talk to my sister alone."

        Dareon stood slowly and bowed before he forgot his courtesies, and said, "your highness." Aleksandra didn't even glance at him or tell the King that her servant wasn't allowed to leave because of her orders. She continued to talk to the King as Dareon stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He smiled, this is my chance. As the door clicked, he turned in the direction he thought was the exit, or at least the path that lead closer to freedom. After a few steps there was a sudden exrcruciating heat around his ankles. He cried out as he tripped over, falling to his knees, scraping the skin on his right hand.

        He winced, looking down. The shackles around his feet tightened around his ankles, burning him, and another chain seemed to grow out of the metal and fix itself to the stone wall. It cracked and welded itself there, and the metal around his ankles seemed to finally cool. Tentatively, the boy reached out and pulled at the new chain, but there was resistance. It was completely fixed to the wall, and it wouldn't come off.