Alexandra loved stay-at-home days. Which was a big thing, because once she had considered staying at home useless.
'I seriously underrated home,' she muttered to Fannel, they both were staring out of the window, watching the rains once again.
'And I overrated it,' he replied. 'Maybe the reason we met, Mabel. We can teach each other a lot.'
Alexandra exhaled. 'Yesterday, I saw terrorists for like the first time...' she began. 'And Brother, yesterday, my respect - for you, for anybody who's going through them...' but she dropped that track, because it had lent a dangerous light to his eyes. 'I can't tell you how much they scare me.' She then began, and the dangerous light vanished completely, to be replaced with a consolation. 'And then - to see them every other day, to live constantly with them at your doorstep... I can only imagine how much courage it takes.'
'That's the reason Mary does the humanitarian work.' It was either that he didn't want to talk of Diana, or had momentarily banished that memory. 'She distributes food - clothes - supplies. Everything. And she loves those people. Not like the normal rich - wrinkling their noses at the sight of,' He exhaled, 'Underprivileged. Being poor isn't a crime, but it is treated like the worst of them. Rigorous punishment every single day, physically and mentally. Mabel,' He then said, like he wanted to say something. Something phenomenal. Then he dropped it, and dropped his gaze too.
But Alexandra felt it was something about her. And what else could it be other than of her past? Sometimes she wondered what would follow if she told Fannel - just him, about her true identity? Had he not been completely honest with her about his past?
But his past was where he was a victim. Kane was a victim. Watson was a victim. Who are you? The villainess of your own story. A murderer. An exiled outlaw. You think you are the same as them? You think you have suffered as much as them?
Alexandra hated it, but her mind was right. Her story was not one that would get her love or respect. Moreover, it could dissolve the little bit of them she had earned so far.
You think their love is so fragile? So subjective, it is going to break with just that truth? And in case it does, it was good it did - such fragile love is only a bondage. As long as the glass toy remains, you are scared the toy will break. Once it does break- the fear breaks too.
She hated paradoxes too. And yet, wherever she went - she found one. She asked herself, What do I do, in that case? But for once, her outspoken mind chose silence.
Perhaps it was not the time yet. One day, it would be. Alexandra was fine with that one, single Idgardian knowing her truth. Mainly because she knew he was the safest person to have secrets shared with.
And in that case, how many more secrets did Liam know? How many more people were counting upon him to not cheat them? In all the people she knew, that one single person puzzled her. He was all open and cheerful, not like the stereotypical mysterious men who would wear dark clothes, cover their faces and appear only at nights. No. Liam always gave the I'm an open book message. Only, he was not. And that, was true mystery. Where everything appeared plainer than it actually way.
I'm pretty sure I know only that side of him which he chooses to show. Alexandra had had that thought a year ago, in a funny place - she had been hiding under the bed of an Infirmary Patient on one of her trials. It had stuck on to her.
Kings are like that. Or at least they try to be.
Agreed, but Liam had never - and would never be her King. They had always been equals - friends. Still - the same.
Would you go around showing everybody, everything? Wearing your heart on your sleeves? People show themselves - bare themselves to only certain people. Become such a person. Win it. And you'll know him.
The offer appealed, but even her letters from Losiane took an abominably long time to reach Idgard.
'The rains have stopped,' Mark noted, grimly.
'I know.' She replied, absentmindedly.
'Well, I need to practice.' He then said, getting up. Mark Fannel had a passion for practicing the blade.
'Go ahead, Liam.' She replied.
And it took her some time to realize what she had said wrong. Thankfully, Fannel did not hear - he was gone - and Alexandra turned back to the window with a sigh. She had no idea why she was acting strange all of a sudden. Like her brother had it for practice, she was developing a singular obsession with the Idgardian monarch. She smoothed out her robes in resignation, she had known it was bound to happen. She had known it all along, and yet been unable to prevent it. The helplessness, instead of making her miserable, increased her admiration for Liam.
'Shut up! I do not like Mr. Perfect.' She hissed, to herself. And if that was a threat, it didn't have much effect.
I am not Olivia. Not Betty. Not anybody, or anything like the-!
Abruptly, Alexandra was shaken up from her thoughts by some scuffling around the house. Right outside, and in the bushes. And she knew that noise only too well. She had made the noise just two days ago with Kane - Spying in the Royal Gardens, thankfully the others there had been too busy to notice.
She got up quietly, tiptoeing, she picked up Moira from the table, strapped it to her belt and took the mightiest stick she could find (they kept a few, just in case). Slowly, she opened the back door, travelled to the side of her house, right beneath the window in the kitchen, she saw him.
It was a man, crouching low and muttering under his breath about the window being too high. His back was turned to her.
'A spy,' She said, 'should know better than to spy right outside our house.' And brought the stick right down his head, even before he could turn.
The man crumpled in a heap.
She stooped low next to him, put two fingers under his nose. Good, he was breathing. Then she wondered what to do with him.
'I'll call Fannel - let's see, what to do.'
An hour later, when the spy came around, he was tied and on the ground. Surrounding him were two deadly faces, and he knew he was in trouble.
It was just Alexandra thinking from the Spy's point of view, because it was so interesting to do so. They anyhow didn't intend to do anything bad with him, if he just co-operated.
'So.' She declared, because it was the scariest beginning possible, 'What were doing outside the house?'
'Mmm!' He said, 'Mm mm mmmm!'
'Mabel, you haven't even untied his mouth, how will he speak?!' Said Fannel, exasperated.
'Oh, my apologies! I think I'm still a bit asleep.' She amended, pulling out the wad of cloth from the man's mouth. He exhaled.
'You are always a bit asleep.' Fannel corrected, then they turned their attention to the prisoner.
'What were you doing there?' Asked Fannel.
'I was just ... trying to do my business in those bushes!' The man said.
'What business?!' Asked Alexandra, the man looked at Fannel.
'Oh, he means to say he was trying to use those bushes as a toilet.' Said the senior.
'Shut up.' Said Alexandra, then, 'I meant him to shut up, not you, Fannel.' She added hurriedly, 'I do not think he was there on that kind of business, he was muttering about the window!'
'I don't know what you are talking about! But, I tell you, I was! I'm sorry, I won't agai-' The man said and Fannel smacked him across the face.
'Stop that.' He said, 'And tell us what you were doing.'
'Let's see ... I have an interesting tool, somewhere here.' Said Alexandra, 'Ah, yes.' She then said, pulling out a pair or pliers. The man's eyes widened, he started making a bit more effort to get free.
'Okay then, let's start from the basics.' Said Fannel, 'What is your name?'
'Keep those away from me!' The man said, eyeing the pliers in Alexandra's hands.
'But you seem to need them-' She began.
'Dylan! I'm Dylan!' Said the man.
'Very good, Dylan. Whom do you work for?' Asked Fannel.
'I don't work for anyone, I'm not a spy!' Said Dylan.
'But who said you are a spy?' Said Fannel.
'She - this woman did!' Dylan said pointing at Alexandra.
'I didn't.' She lied, hoping Fannel would get her tone. Apparently, he did.
'Then you ARE a spy.'
'No, I'm not!'
'You ARE!'
'No!'
'Yes!' Said Fannel.
'No!' Said Dylan.
'Yes!'
'No!'
'Yes!'
'No!'
'No?'
'Yes!'
'Very good!' Said Fannel, triumphantly. Alexandra wanted to snort - but it would spoil her dangerous image...
'You tricked me! I am not!' Said Dylan.
'Look, if I could use these ... just a bit, you know, they are quite rusty.' Said Alexandra, opening and closing the pliers.
'I think he needs it...' The senior began, it was the rule. First threaten. If they don't answer ... use. But Dylan was a bit weak of spirit perhaps. If she had been threatened with pliers, to sell her council off ... she'd not say anything, not even if they ran her over with a carriage.
However, Dylan did.
'Fine. I will tell you.'
'Everything.' Said Fannel.
'Yes! Fine, listen. Five kilometers from here is a tower... our tower,'
'Five kilometers? Just five?' Asked Alexandra, there was a visible tower, but it was no way only five kilometers away
'I used a different path, that I know of, only we do.'
'Continue.'
'Everyone thinks its empty, and haunted, so no one comes near it.'
'I know that, you mean your group lives in that?' Fannel said,
'Yes.' He said, 'Actually it is not haunted, but anyone who steers close, is killed. Hence they all fear it. Our Boss, keeps it guarded-'
'What is your Boss' name?' Asked Fannel.
'I don't kno-' SMACK! 'I really don't know!' The man said, almost in tears, Fannel seemed to be thinking the same thing as Alexandra, which Boss in his right mind would make this guy a spy?!
'Continue.' Alexandra said.
'He is ... cruel ... and ... bad. We are all bad, we know. But he says there is no bad and good in the world, there is only power and smart people keep power, pursue it. The foolish are content with doing right stuff and getting all high and mighty about it.'
'Your boss is a goose! Tell us why you are here.' Said Fannel.
'He - He wants some work done here.'
'And the work is?' Asked Alexandra, none of them were interested in threatening him anymore, since he was so close to a breakdown, in which case they wouldn't be able to question him anymore.
'T-to spy-' Fannel didn't even have to hit him, he just raised his hand and the man cowered, hurriedly breaking into speech, 'To tell him who you people are!'
'And who are we?' Alexandra asked, putting a hand on Fannel's shoulder, they looked at him intently - what the man answered would be crucial,
'You are - he suspects you are - spies!'
'But we are not - you know we are not,' Said Fannel, his voice going all deep and mature and hypnotizing, almost as if he was lovingly speaking to a child. Alexandra then realized what a smart man he was, Fannel had understood what she hadn't - and why wouldn't he? He knew the terrorists better than her. This man, had been scared and terrorized his whole life, all he needed was a bit of understanding, a bit of love, to switch his loyalties.
'I - I can't be sure,' The man said.
'We had to use a tiny bit of force to get the truth out of you, but we don't mean you any harm. Actually, we are here to save you. To protect you,' Fannel continued, nudging Alexandra slightly in the arm.
'Yes,' Alexandra said, 'We know what a terrible man your Boss is - we know how much he has tortured you all - we are here to free you. We are here to give you another chance at life,'
The man didn't say anything else, he looked at them for a second, two seconds, a minute. Two minutes, then, 'Really?' He asked. His eyes glazed over, hopefully.
'Yes,' Fannel and Alexandra said together, 'We shall help all your comrades - your friends, too. Only, you have to take us to the tower,' Fannel said, putting a hand on his shoulder. The man winced like he'd been hit, 'No more quest for power. No more torture.' Fannel bribed him, 'You can all live peacefully, freely. Not as slaves of the man,' he said, 'If you will only give us the directions to the tower. You can stay here some days - we'll give you three meals a day. You just have to wait until we get all your comrades. Then all of you can leave. And you all can be - free.' His voice had become almost a whisper, as though he was speaking right to the soul of the man. Alexandra had to bend closer to listen.
Dylan gulped, 'Really?'
'You have my word,'
It took a moment for that to settle. Both for Alexandra and for Dylan, but when it did, she fell back and shook her head - deciding that she could be very good but never as good as Mark Fannel. And Dylan immediately dissolved into speech.
'From your back gate, take a left,' he began. And Alexandra uncapped her quill, drew a left arrow on her palm, 'then walk for a hundred yards,' she wrote 100y upon the arrow, 'from there...'