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25
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Corrupt Crown
LYKALIS was fast.
But Ilioszo was faster.
She let out a sharp breath as her shoulder was pushed. She slammed into the wall as an arm pressed against her collarbone, a serrated blade pressing against her throat.
Forged of white opal and coated with clear cut diamond, the dagger emitted a hiss and blistered against her trachea. Where he found an Isetían blade imbued with heavenly light—Ilangìbí—was beyond her. What she did know, however, was the fact the serrated edge threatening to split her skin promised a cut throat and her blood spilling until death did her soul apart from flesh and bone.
She formed an inexplicit appreciation towards the hand that held the blade with care, every joint of his fingers moving with deliberation and dexterity.
Otherwise she'd be dead.
Under the corridor's dim candle light, Ilioszo looked like an angel from the Underworld, jaw rippling with antipathy. His broad shoulders were drawn tight, feathers propped like the hackles of a wolf, baring its teeth and preparing to strike. His wings were now black—Koltean, except for the silver feathers scattered across his plumage.
She had half the mind to note how strange the coloration of his wings were as his face drew close to her. She could feel his breath against her skin as mismatched eyes bore into her with a burning flame of two juxtaposing temperatures. They consecutively managed to seize her heart with frigid terror yet burn her spirit with sweltering fires, oscillating like two souls at war with each other.
She was unperturbed, remaining pinned underneath her favorite enigma.
And her only chance at escape.
Ilioszo's expression remained stoic as he kept her trapped between his arms.
"You almost had me, didn't you, Heiress?" Ilioszo murmured.
Lykalis scoffed, though she knew it was nothing but a ploy.
"Am I supposed to be honored that you took the time to draw your blade?" She asked, her skin threatening to burn from the blade.
A Kolteans weakness, after all, was light.
"I suppose you should be." Ilioszo replied with an amused expression.
Adrenaline jumped between his eyes, exhilaration of the chase still embedded under his skin. But this would be different– there would be no prey to kill, no prey to destroy and disassemble. No, this was far more enticing, refreshing with a sort of exuberance Ilioszo rarely found the zest in.
Lykalis found a laugh escaping her lips.
Ilioszo's expression faltered at the melodic sound, ringing against his ears like the soft breath of flutes resonating in his mind.
She grinned at him, the mischief in her eyes prominent and bright, as if she was garnering another chase—as if this was all just a meager game.
She gazed at him and he gazed at her and—
She felt.
God, she felt.
Footsteps disrupted their reality and Ilioszo's expression changed swiftly. Where amusement once settled animosity appeared, his eyes darkening with a jaundiced gaze. He adjusted the grip he had on the blade and Lykalis was reminded of its whetted side.
She clenched her jaw, flapping her wings to push herself out of his grip. Ilioszo pressed herself against the wall, caging her in with his feet, forcing her legs closer together. He loomed over her as his forearm pushed against her collarbone. Lykalis caught a whiff of that obsessive scent mingling with bergamot and lemon and something else.
The violence promised in his eyes was somehow mesmerizing.
She wanted more of it– more of him.
They were so close.
So close.
"Heiress, you should know better than to run from fate." Duke Orfeo spoke as he and twenty other guards entered the long hall. "Don't Kolteans praise Lady Death, anyway?"
Lykalis's tongue darted across her lips as she wrapped a hand around Ilioszo's, clasping her fingers around his.
"Well then," Duke Orfeo sighed, waving a dismissive hand, "kill her, my boy. Or watch her be killed."
Ilioszo hesitated.
Lykalis knew he was wondering if this was worth it– if he could successfully escape. And if he couldn't, what would the Duke do to him? What torturous methods would he use to implement Ilioszo's loss of autonomy and amnesty? Would he not whip him, string him up, burn him, break his bones? Wouldn't he starve him until he was nothing but skin and bone? Wouldn't he–
"If you fucking touch her, I will rip you limb by limb and feed you to your own wolves." He snarled threateningly.
His eyes were fire and ice, anger walking near a line of vulnerability, emotions directed with a ferocity to protect, lacking malice. It struck her with such clarity that Ilioszo would never be led by impulse but by logic.
Logic, she wondered, shaped and warped to fit what, exactly?
Duke Orfeo took an aborted step back at the gesture, as if he had something to be afraid of.
Ilioszo turned to face Lykalis.
His lips twitched upwards as he gazed down at her.
"Go." He murmured.
In an instant Ilioszo released her, throwing the Isetian blade in his hand at the guard to Duke Orfeo's right. The Duke froze, remaining utterly still as Lykalis's nycrís bloomed across the hall. She held her hand out expectantly; Ilioszo tossed her blackened dagger and she caught it with ease.
Her head tilted to the side as Duke Orfeo looked between them with wide eyes.
Lykalis flapped her wings, a gust of wind forming in the hall. Duke Orfeo raised his arms over his eyes as shadows curled around his legs. He fell to his knees and Lykalis took the time to dismantle the guards standing at his left. nycrís roared to life as dark tendrils wrapped around legs, arms, and throats.
She held her left hand outward, controlling the tenebrosity of the hall with flicks and twists of her fingers. She threw the dagger with her right hand, using her nycrís to splinter the object. Five guards fell to the ground, gurgling as they choked on their own blood. Lykalis's heart thrummed in her chest, fingers tingling with anticipation as both exhilaration and delirium took control of her mind and body.
Oh, it was so satisfying, so bloody, so barbaric!
Blood splattered across the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Lykalis was at the center of it all, bathing in crimson wails and hysterical cries. She was intoxicated by her own power–by how utterly helpless they were and just how easy erasing them was.
She was untouchable, invincible, indomitable.
And it was addicting.
Her lips turned upward into a malicious grin as cries of pain rang like pleasant notes against her ears. They writhed and her nycrís sang with satisfaction, chaos and anarchy moving with her fingertips.
She turned to the Duke as the guards remained dead and unmoving–
A pleasant gasp left her lips as Ilioszo pulled her back by her arm, dragging her away from Duke Orfeo. She laughed as he stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders and saying words she didn't have the mind to hear.
She was powerful.
She was bloodthirsty.
She wanted more, more, more–
"–stop it!" Ilioszo shouted, desperation in his voice. "Lykalis, Lykalis you're hurting yourself! You're hurting yourself!"
She faltered, the grin on her face falling away as amusement and delight faded from her eyes. Her nycrís billowed around her and her breathing enigma, tendrils and wisps of black circling them in one uproarious shield. Her fingers were blackened around the edges, her own abilities attacking her body. Ilioszo's grip on her shoulders softened, even as flecks of his own blood fed the darkness around her.
He brought her into his chest, wrapped a gentle hand behind her head. He held her like she was the most fragile piece of ceramic ever shaped by the gods. He held her like one twitch of his hand might break her.
And she felt safe.
Her hysteria and delirious outburst started to fade–
Ilioszo collapsed without warning, hands falling away from her as he slammed against the ground.
Something wild and frantic flicked between his eyes.
Lykalis's desire for blood and death and pure chaos dissipated in an instant. She reeled in her nycris with great effort as Ilioszo scrambled away from her. He was afraid, but–
He wasn't afraid of her.
No, he was–
He kneeled at Duke Orfeo's side, gasping and panting as he clutched at his heart. The pain was so agonizing Ilioszo clutched onto the Duke's dress pants, grabbing at him as he soundlessly begged for him to stop– what?
Lykalis gritted her teeth as Duke Orfeo twisted a dial on his watch, his expression a slate of repose.
"Ilioszo, Ilioszo, Ilioszo," he hummed, shaking his head in disbelief.
Ilioszo whimpered as tears collected at the corner of his eyes. He couldn't breathe– he couldn't– he sobbed, a broken sound that pierced Lykalis's heart. He leaned his forehead against the Duke's shoes, curling in on himself as he tried to protect himself from the onslaught of anguish, invincible to the naked eye.
Lykalis took a step forward.
Ilioszo screamed.
She stopped, holding out one placating hand as she let her eyes fall on Duke Orfeo.
"Don't take another step, Heiress." Duke Orfeo smiled. "Why you care for him is quite treasonous, really, however, I do not have the time to question you–"
Ilioszo let out a haggard cry, the sound a hoarse moan of pain as he leaned into the Duke, clutching and grasping at him.
"Stop it." Lykalis hissed, gazing at the hand currently twisting his watch.
He was turning a screw that undoubtedly touched a piece of Ilioszo's soul.
The soul pact.
"Now why would I do that? He deserves to be punished, isn't that right?" Duke Orfeo gazed down at Ilioszo.
"Yes, yes, my Duke–" Ilioszo gasped with despair, a guttural cry leaving him right after "I'm sorry! I'll do anything! I'm sorry– I– I can't–"
Duke Orfeo chuckled.
Lykalis clenched her jaw.
After an eternity of Ilioszo's pained cries, Duke Orfeo finally let his hand fall away from his watch. Ilioszo panted as relief filled his eyes. Exhaustion overcame him as he leaned his head against the Duke's knee, holding onto him like he was his source of life.
Lykalis wanted to rip the Duke's body into a millions pieces, scatter it across the land so he could never be whole again.
"This is truly unsettling, Ilioszo." Duke Orfeo sounded disappointed. "It isn't right to disobey me, and now look what you've done."
He shook his head, roughly pushing Ilioszo's head away from him with his foot.
Anger roared in Lykalis's chest.
"Oh, well, I suppose if you want something done, you have to do it yourself."
Lykalis blinked and Duke Orfeo was suddenly in front of her, a pocket knife raised and poised at her heart.
She inhaled.
Exhaled.
Duke Orfeo was thrown backwards as Ilioszo lunged at her. She caught him but stumbled backwards as the momentum of his movements brought them to the cold floor. A grimace formed on her face as Ilioszo dragged himself to stand in front of her. She pushed herself onto her hands and knees, folding her wings close to herself as she glanced at him.
Ilioszo was favoring one leg over the other, holding his arms over his stomach as if that could protect him.
"I warned you," he panted, his voice colder than the brutalist of winters, "I warned you not to touch her."
Ilioszo's eyes were ablaze with something animalistic.
"I told you not to touch her!" His voice rose in volume and hysteria.
Duke Orfeo stilled.
Then contempt formed in his expression and Lykalis was promptly disgusted by the offense in his eyes.
"You dare do this to me?" He breathed. "Again? Have I not fed you, cleaned you, kept you safe? And yet you choose to follow this Heiress who is using you—who will throw you away once she realizes you have no use? You are but a tool, Ilioszo, you are something to be looked at, touched, owned!"
Duke Orfeo snarled.
"She has done nothing but help me!" Ilioszo shouted with effort. "She has done nothing but listen to me! I would prefer to be her tool than yours when all you do is hurt me!"
Lykalis's eyes widened as she pulled herself to stand.
Is that– is that what he thought of her?
"Ilioszo—" Lykalis murmured.
"I was good to you, and you dare trust someone other than me?!" Duke Orfeo hollered. "Don't you remember the Marquis, the Duchess, the Queen?! What did they do when you came to them, begging to be taken away from me?! What did they do? Tell me—tell her. Say it!"
The Queen?
Ilioszo took a step back, as if Duke Orfeo had punched him across the face.
His burst of confidence wilted away and he looked at Lykalis with betrayal and uncertainty. The more and more he spoke with Duke Orfeo, the more and more confused he would become.
Lykalis would have to end this quickly.
She needed to hurry.
"They wanted to collect me." Ilioszo admitted, his hands trembling.
Is that why you're helping me was what he was asking.
Lykalis swallowed hard.
"They wanted to spend the night with you, Ilioszo! They wanted to have a pet who would not dare to speak, who wouldn't have the freedom to leave their homes." Duke Orfeo snarled. "Have I not given you freedom? Have I not given you food? Have I not kept you safe from yourself?! What do you think the Heiress wants from you?!"
Ilioszo visibly flinched, snapping his head to the side with a nervous twitch.
"But I—" he protested.
"Your body is the only thing the Heiress will ever care for!" Duke Orfeo interrupted, throwing his thoughts off-balance. "She will throw you away or keep you as her dog— she is an Heiress. Why would she ever need someone like you? A misfit, a beggar, a thing that can't even comply with the smallest of orders?!"
"You hurt me." Ilioszo pressed. "You–"
Duke Orfeo pointed at him aggressively.
"Because you won't listen! All of this is your fault!" He snarled. "This! Your life, your pain! You're the one who makes me punish you!"
Lykalis took a step forward, grasping Ilioszo's shoulder.
He turned his head to look at her, eyes wet but tearless.
"That's enough." She said, her voice cold. "We are leaving."
Duke Orfeo grabbed for his watch– his fingers moved through a faux hologram constructed of shadows and darkness. His eyes widened with horror, snapping his head up to look at her.
Lykalis had been too busy stealing the watch from Duke Orfeo's wrist as he spewed idiotic statements and manipulative lies. She couldn't encourage Ilioszo's argument when she was occupied with the bloodlust of her nycrís. She only hoped he didn't think her silence meant she agreed with Duke Orfeo's words.
Ilioszo turned on his heel, abruptly padding further down the hall.
Lykalis gave Duke Orfeo one last look of loathing, before following after him.
"Did you want to kill him?" Lykalis asked as Ilioszo rushed down the hall.
They took a sharp turn to the left.
"No." Ilioszo replied, quiet. "I—I need to leave."
Lykalis frowned.
Ilioszo continued forward, keeping his steadfast pace as they took a few more turns. They weaved across the labyrinth, surprisingly empty of half-borns and Sidiens alike. Ilioszo must've been more familiar with the halls than the surface.
"I don't want to leave him. I want to go back to him. I don't want him to die." He mumured. "Is that wrong of me? He took care of me, Lykalis. He hurt me but he– he took care of me."
He looked away from her, keeping his gaze straight ahead of them as they traveled to the end of a familiar hall, a hatch decorating the edge of the ceiling.
They stopped underneath it, familiar iron rings clinging to the wall.
Lykalis cleared her throat.
"Here." She held Duke Orfeo's watch out to him.
Ilioszo paused, gazing down at the object.
His hand trembled as he wrapped his fingers around it, taking it gently from her palm. She watched as he unclasped the watch's face, revealing a small container-like space, holding a single dahlia of gold hues, glimmering like sunlight, catching every ray as if it were a newborn nova.
Her lips parted in awe.
Ilioszo clasped it in his hand, a bubble of laughter leaving his lips. His eyes were brighter than she'd ever seen before, alight with something alive and radiant. He opened his fingers, revealing an empty palm.
He gazed at her with pure gratitude.
"Come on," he beckoned as he climbed up the ladder, "let's go."
Lykalis turned her head towards the hall.
Ilioszo opened the hatch. Rays of sunlight entered the dimly lit corridor and Lykalis turned to face him again. She grasped his hand and he pulled her upwards with ease. She clutched onto the edge of the opening, before dragging herself into a brick alleyway. She looked down at Ilioszo as he climbed up the rest of the ladders.
She grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the hatch as they stood together.
Ilioszo kicked the hatch closed, allowing it to lock.
They turned to face the rest of the alleyway.
Ilioszo grasped Lykalis by her waist before she could see what he saw. He pulled her into his side and rose a defensive wing as blood splattered across his plumage. She tried her best to ignore how utterly close they were to each other, Ilioszo's heartbeat echoing in her ears. Her fingers curled over his wing as she carefully peered over the protective limb.
General Atanase stood with a sword drenched in blood, an unceremonious amount of limbs and decapitated heads circling his feet. They were guards– just like him. In fact, she was sure some of them were members of the Aulup Bevatore; people who he worked with, who were comrades in arms.
He let out a soft breath as he sheathed his crystal sword, meeting Lykalis's gaze.
Relief filled his expression.
He whistled and Ilioszo stiffened.
Lykalis didn't expect General Atanase to call forth Luciano's horse, his hooves clip-clopping against the ground, blood staining his auburn coat. She slowly pushed Ilioszo's wing further away. He glanced at her, a questioning expression on his face.
Lykalis gave him a nod.
Ilioszo pulled his wings away from her, releasing her as he folded them behind his back.
"The Queen has blamed your General for abetting Heir Luciano with treasonous crimes, including the death of multiple Dukes and Duchesses and the assassination of Koltean Royalty." General Atanase spoke quickly and sharply. "The Heir is currently imprisoned with your General. I come to you for aid. I do apologize for how long it took me to find you."
The Queen did what?
Lykalis thought back to Duke Orfeo's words.
The Queen– the Queen had a place in all of this, didn't she? Or was this a trick on General Atanase's part? She didn't know but it didn't matter. They had Osteria which meant she needed to enter the palace, one way or another.
General Atanase pulled himself onto Luciano's horse, beckoning Lykalis to follow.
She glanced at Ilioszo.
Anxiety passed through his eyes before his expression smoothed out.
Lykalis looked at General Atanase.
"Ilioszo," she started, "can you become a young dragon? A small one?"
Ilioszo glanced at her, almost surprised.
Duke Orfeo's words had boiled thoughts of doubt and dubiety within Ilioszo. So he expected her to simply leave him, didn't he? As if she could do such a thing.
How could she leave the man which occupied most of her thoughts, if not her entire mind?
He inclined his head.
"Good." Lykalis approached Luciano's horse, pulling herself onto it.
He whinnied underneath as General Atanase pulled on his reins, turning him around.
Lykalis felt something land on her shoulder and she turned her head to see Ilioszo in the form of a tiny dragon, a juvenile creature. He looked at her with those enchanting eyes of his, and Lykalis felt assured.
Now, all she had to do was find the whole truth.
After all, she was still yet to have all pieces of this extravagant puzzle.
"I see you've met Ilioszo." The General spoke loudly as they galloped down the street, wind whistling in their ears. "I haven't met him–until now, that is–but I've heard plenty about him."
Lykalis furrowed her brows, confused.
General Atanase kept his eyes focused on the street ahead of them, avoiding noble women and men as they raced towards the palace, an enormous building which glittered far brighter than any structure in the area.
She wished she could see his face.
"I was offered an enormous sum of money to attempt an assassination on the Heir." He explained. "When I declined the offer given to me by a now imprisoned Duchess, I was then offered an anonymous bribe which mentioned your new friend and something so disgustingly erotic that I could never bring myself to tell the Heir. I declined, of course, nothing can break my loyalty to the Heir."
Lykalis listened intently.
Ilioszo shifted on her shoulder, fluttering down onto her hand. She held him gently, carefully, reminding herself that this small and rather fragile creature was, in fact, a very sentient being who was her constant blessing of curiosity. He nestled into her palm, seeking comfort.
She didn't really know what to do so she just remained still.
"How can we trust that you are still loyal to Luciano?" She questioned.
General Atanase pulled the reins, avoiding a terrified noblewoman as they blew past her.
"Heir Luciano stopped me from committing suicide. He saved my life." General Atanase stated, his voice filled with fervor and conviction. "I became his General to repay that debt. I am still not done repaying that debt and I never will be as he continues to live. I also care for him, Heiress."
Lykalis grimaced.
"Well then," she cleared her throat, "just call me Lykalis. Hearing people call me Heiress is starting to give me the wrong impression."
Duke Orfeo had only ever used the title to taunt her and Ilioszo had used it when he'd lost the privilege to call her anything intimate. It was feeling like a curse– a threat. She would avoid hearing the title for as long as she remained in Sidiem.
"Of course." General Atanase inclined his head in understanding. "Could you do me a favor and let go of my shoulder? I need to unsheathe my blade."
Lykalis let her hand fall away from him as their steed slowed to a walking pace, hooves clicking against tile pathways as they breezed past the palace walls. Two guards stood to attention at the entrance and they unsheathed their swords when they caught sight of the pair.
When they got close General Atanase threw himself off of their horse, who whinnied and kicked upwards at the sudden movement.
Lykalis flapped her wings, throwing herself into the air in an attempt to avoid the startled horse. She turned to see General Atanase holding one guard by the throat while thrusting his sword into the chest of another.
Ilioszo left her hands, bones cracking and shifting as he formed into that of a dragon half-born. He watched General Atanase with attentive eyes as the young man ripped the blade out of the impaled guard, slicing the throat of the man he had been suffocating.
His expression was empty of all emotions except one.
Anger.
"I trust him." Ilioszo finally stated.
General Atanase whirled around, surprised.
"Yeah, I trust him too." Lykalis sighed, rubbing her temples. "Where are the dungeons?"
General Atanase looked at Ilioszo, then the limbs connected to his back, then Lykalis.
He decided any and all questions could be answered later.
"This way," his sword lowered to his side as he pointed with his other hand, "are you familiar with killing, Lykalis? I'm afraid there will be much death to give."
She smiled.
"Oh, I'm familiar."
Ilioszo scowled.
"Too familiar."
λ
"I thought this would be easier." Lykalis started sassily as she held Ilioszo's Isetían dagger, careful to avoid the heavenly edge. "And it would be, if you would allow me to use my nycrís."
General Atanase and Ilioszo both turned to face her at the same time.
"No." They both replied.
Ilioszo glanced at the General, before clearing his throat.
"You clearly can't control it." Ilioszo started. "And I do think you shouldn't risk it."
Lykalis frowned as she ripped the dagger out of the Sidien guard currently struggling to breathe. Well, exist, really. She watched numbly as the light left his eyes, empty dull orbs falling to the side as he lost both conscience and life. She wiped gold blood off the blade, before turning to look at her current companions.
Entering the palace and pacing through the benevolent throne room had been effortless. In fact, traipsing through corridors and halls had gone unnervingly quiet; too quiet. Lykalis had suspected the Queen was very aware of the brutal barbarity General Atanase had taken upon himself to bestow.
Her suspicions were only confirmed when they were barred entry from the palace cells.
By over a dozen guards who did not belong to the royal guards, but were palace guards nonetheless. Of course, General Atanase was a formidable force by himself, but aided by Lykalis and Ilioszo they were most indestructible, infinitely so.
General Atanase frowned as they ventured further down the cells, silence ringing in their ears.
"I don't know much about nycrís, Lykalis, but magic of any kind is forbidden in the dungeons. It is not a choice for you to use it– runes line the cells which removes foreign magic. Even Sidien royalty can not use their mannadieu here." General Atanase explained.
Lykalis frowned.
So Luciano's mother had decided to trap him here because he would have no physical attributes which would allow him to become a menacing force? One who could abscond any and all circumstances? She frowned deeply, eyes flitting between cells filled with genuine criminals who gazed at them with narrowed eyes, curious and cautious at the same time.
Why would Queen Fausta do this, if she was not the one to order the death of her aunt and uncle?
But. . .Ilioszo had confirmed that the one who ordered their deaths was a Koltean. Had he lied, or did the Queen have ulterior motives? Or did the Queen share connections with Duke Orfeo who manipulated her as he manipulated anyone else?
"Atanase," Luciano's voice was filled with carefully controlled rage, "I did not tell you to find her, did I?"
General Atanase straightened.
Lykalis approached the last cell, Ilioszo following hesitantly behind her.
She blanched at the state her best friend was in.
Osteria's eyes were bloodshot, her regal demeanor barely lingering across her shoulders. She was curled up on the floor in the furthest corner of the cement room, her uniform tattered and dirty. Her wings were closed in a protective shield, hands wrapped around her knees. She looked miserable, mournful, despondent. How long had she been trapped here? How many times did Osteria think the situation over and blame herself for allowing Lykalis to leave her sight? How many times did Osteria assume she'd failed?
That Lykalis was dead?
Osteria remained still.
Neither of them were chained to the shackles on the walls, but Lykalis had a feeling Luciano had something to do with that.
The Heir of Sidiem stared at her with a hand gripping tightly to the cane he always carried, dressed in a white silken shirt and a tan pair of trousers.
At least the Queen had been merciful.
"Lykalis." Luciano spoke punctually, every syllable sharp and pointed. "You're alive."
His tone was just as monotonous and pragmatic as always, but Lykalis could swear relief had flashed between his eyes. Perhaps she was being hopeful; perhaps he truly did care. Either way, she didn't have the mind to ponder over his expressions nor his mannerisms.
They needed to leave.
And now.
Osteria wordlessly drew her wings away from her legs, dragging herself to stand. Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she approached the bars, standing at Luciano's side. She stared at Lykalis– blinked once, twice, three times, before deciding there was no use in being frantic and otherwise deranged over the fact her sister, truly, was still alive.
Lykalis pushed her arms between the bars, grasping Osteria's hand.
She gave her palm a light squeeze.
Osteria returned the gesture.
Words did not need to be exchanged as Lykalis released her, taking a step back. She examined the bars, then the door which needed a key. Except where a keyhole should have been was a rune. She narrowed her eyes at the magic thrumming under the symbol. She reached out to brush her fingertips against the surface–
Ilioszo grabbed her hand.
"Don't." He said calmly. "Let me do it."
She raised an eyebrow at him.
Ilioszo ignored the expression as he placed his hand over the rune.
"I don't think you understand," General Atanase spoke from behind them, "that rune is strongest when spoken and the Queen spoke it into existence. It is not breakable with such ease."
Ilioszo either didn't hear him or didn't listen to him. He shut his eyes and focused, his shoulders rolling back as he drew inward. He entered a mental state Lykalis decided not to question.
She didn't have a choice anymore; she had to trust him, whether or not she wanted to.
Lykalis turned her eyes to Luciano.
"Why would your mother lock you in here?" She questioned.
Luciano clenched his jaw, squeezing his fingers so tightly over his cane that his knuckles turned white, paler than the moon on the brightest of nights.
"I figured it out." He pressed through gritted teeth. "Everything. All of it. Queen Fausta was bribed by Duke Orfeo long before she was a Queen. She became a ruler after bribing prospective families– she married my father by bribery. The one who killed your Queen and King is–"
"Ilioszo." Lykalis interrupted, nodding at said individual.
His eyes were still closed, his breathing even.
Luciano opened his mouth.
Shut it.
"He killed my aunt and uncle in cold blood, and he was supposed to kill me as well. But he didn't that night." She turned to face Luciano, who gazed at Ilioszo with a cynical eye. "He is the one I met at the Tomarctus, he is the one you asked me to forget about. Duke Orfeo ordered him to kill my Queen and King, so he did. Because the Duke would have hurt him in such horrible ways I can't repeat what he told me."
Luciano aggressively twisted the wolf's head connected to his cane.
"And you believe him." It was a statement, not a question.
Lykalis narrowed her eyes into a glare.
"The days I've been missing I've been trapped in a cell by Duke Orfeo and promised a death sentence." She explained firmly. "Ilioszo proved to be trustworthy. He helped me escape– he kept me safe. I despise him for what he did, but it is not fair to blame him and him alone. Duke Orfeo is malicious and undoubtedly rejoiced when my aunt and uncle were killed. Ilioszo only feels guilt and shame."
She exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"We can speak of these things after we leave Sidiem." She replied.
Luciano snapped his gaze towards General Atanase.
"Did you or did you not arrest the Queen and King like I requested?" He seethed.
General Atanase bowed his head as he sheathed his sword.
"I have, Heir. They are currently trapped in their chambers by my closest comrades in the Aulup Bevatore, individuals who I believe can be trusted and have continuously proved their worth." General Atanase explained without missing a beat.
Luciano exhaled, letting his gaze focus on Lykalis once again.
He opened his mouth to speak.
"Lykalis." Osteria cleared her throat, shooting Luciano a look.
The Heir turned his head away from her and Lykalis wondered what horrible sin she had committed against him for his animosity to be directed towards her and her alone. She buried the twinge of vexation traveling in her chest, instead fixating her thoughts on Osteria.
Her General looked grief-stricken.
But why?
Lykalis was here, was she not?
Why was she still so–
"Lykalis, you might want to sit down somewhere." Osteria continued, her voice quiet.
She furrowed her brows, perplexed by her request.
"General Osteria–" Luciano interrupted.
"No, let me tell her." Osteria pressed. "You won't tell her what you've told me anyway."
Luciano clenched his jaw.
Once again, he turned his face away from Lykalis.
Osteria grasped ahold of the cell bars, leaning her forehead against them as she avoided Lykalis's gaze. Her shoulders had fallen in defeat– in surrender– a gesture rarely ever found on someone as mighty and powerful as herself.
Lykalis's heart started to drum against her chest with anxiety.
"What is it?" Lykalis hissed, impatience and adrenaline overriding her emotions.
Osteria's wings drew close to her.
"General Atanase received a letter from Dynevma, the Nyx Ippuroi's second in command, our friend." Osteria pressed, words leaving bitterly from her lips, like she was forcibly dragging them from her tongue. "She relayed an invitation to all members of the royal family across all kingdoms."
"For what?" Lykalis couldn't help the confusion in her voice.
Luciano clicked his cane against the floor as he looked at her, pity flicking between his eyes.
"Heir Moira is being crowned in three days." Luciano closed his eyes. "It is most likely your brother ordered the deaths of your aunt and uncle to obtain the crown."
No.
"The invitations are a trap. The motivations between his desire to be crowned are not clear, but it seems as though he wishes for all five kingdoms to merge into one. We're sure he plans to kill the rest of the royal families at his coronation– from what we've heard, all have declined, including Moira's closest friend, NKosiyethu."
No.
"Foreign royalty will not be present, all except for the Queen and King of Sidiem, for they are owned by Duke Orfeo, who is owned by your older brother. Which means I, consequently, will be present when he is crowned."
No.
"Heir Moira will wage war against the other kingdoms– we must stop him before he gains the crown and the military power of Kolteo. I need to know we can trust you to kill him, if necessary."
Lykalis's breath came out choked.
No.
"Luciano."
"You were taking too long to tell her, General."
Ilioszo opened his eyes as the rune on the cell shattered. He gazed at her as the door opened, disbelief and incredulity flicking between his eyes, as if he couldn't believe anything he heard.
Lykalis wanted to scream.
And scream she would.
* * *