The Hunt

Chapter 29- Laughing in the Face of Possible Death

Cecily was headed in the direction of the capital where a false king sat on a throne that belonged to her king.

Two days after leaving her old town and house along with her father and friends, she caught sight of the modernized city that nearly glowed white the way the sun reflected off the smooth buildings. 

When she was little and she traveled to the same city to sell her animal skins, she took time to admire the view. When she was a little older, after her mother threatened her fathers life, she never dared go this far from her home in fear of what that woman would do. Now, she was too focused on hiding from the general authorities and police officers to enjoy the view. They weren't the one she wanted to be caught by.

In the middle of the day, her hair blazed like wildfire, making her an easy target. Luckily, the weather was still cold, so no one stopped to question her when she pulled the hood of her jacket up, covering both her frigid ears and warm hair.

From long lost memories and the ride up a few months ago, she'd easily memorized the way to the castle. 

Getting in was the easy part. 

She didn't need the disguises or to use force. Not that a disguise would help. In a place like this, guards were I.D.'d upon entry. It made her really wonder how the slave trader had managed to kill the king.

So, she simply walked up to the front door, locked now that a new King, that slave trader named Rosalynd, was preparing for her coronation. The two guards, who the hunter was positive she could beat, if need be, looked down at her from above their overgrown noses.

She smiled smoothly, pulling the hood off and putting her hands up.

"Cecily Earnheart, wanted for murder and assisting former prince Zephyr, at your service."

She let them tackle her, taking her to the ground with a thud. She let them disarm her, like her weapons were all that she could hurt them with. She let them throw her in a prison with a bloody nose, a bruised eye, and no resistance. 

"The King will want to see her," one of the guards said, on their way out.

Perfect.

---

Two hours had passed and she was bored out pf her mind. Using her cybernetic hand, she'd quietly dug a hold in the ground, nearly reaching the surface, just to prove she could.

When the door clicked, she covered it up with the excess dirt and sat on top of it, compressing the dirt. 

She let the guards drag her out and even put up with a wandering hand resting on her hip. He'd have to go, later though.

They dragged her until she sat in a room, surrounded by accusing eyes of people. 

Cecily ignored them all, searching for a single shaking man.

"Cecily Earnheart," a loud, feminine voice said. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you, slave trader," she replied, letting her eyes glance at the busty woman for a moment. "I had planned on meeting you at around this time. You were, however, supposed to be a bit more bloodied up."

She laughed.

Ah, there he was. That shaking man who stood in the back of the room the day she'd met the previous king. In the back of her head, she congratulated the man on still being alive, but lying was what these nobles and politicians were good at. He nodded at her, knowing what needed to be done.

"I was beginning to thin-"

"What am I being held for?" Cecily deadpanned, smirking at the King.