The pain was too intense. Not a physical pain, but the crippling ache of loss, the image of her father dying before her very eyes flashing again and again in her mind's eye. Tears ran like waterfalls down Mynera's face, her eyes rimmed red and puffy. She didn't care, though. It didn't matter if she looked terrible. Why would it when she was grieving?
"Father..." Her knees gave way and she fell to the ground. Mynera clutched them to her chest, resting her back on the cool stone wall behind her.
"Mynera," came a soft voice said above her. She didn't look up. Her head remained firmly buried between her knees, tears running and blazing a ticklish path down the side of her leg. She didn't even feel self-conscious and bare anymore with her torn dress anymore. The king was dead, her father was dead, and now here she was hiding in an underground dungeon with red enemies above them trying to find their way in. It didn't matter to her that she was wearing less than a lady should anymore.
"Mynera, come. We need to leave this place as quickly as we can."
Mynera finally looked up, staring past the tears blurring her eyes. It was Hale. His beautiful face hovered over her, his hand stretched outwards.
"My Father..." she sobbed.
His eyes fell. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry, but if we don't get out of here now the queen, future king, and the future queen will die. They would have died in vain." He gestured to her again. "Now, come. Please."
"Would you please at least pretend you are a queen?" Queen Madeline said, her voice filled with disgust. Mynera shifted her gaze over to her. There was no sadness in the queen's voice, no remorse, no pain. Just disgust. She stood on the other side of the dungeon, her back straight and her head held high. Even surrounded by rats and dripping water, she still looked every bit the queen. It made Mynera hate her even more.
Slowly, Mynera took Hale's hand, allowing him to help her to her feet. She kept her eyes trained on the queen. "How can you say that so calmly?" she asked her. "Your husband ... the king ... he's dead."
Queen Madeline tilted her head to the side, her eyes cold. "So he is. The world is not coming to an end."
"W-what?" Mynera jerked in shock, frowning. Surely she'd heard that wrong. Surely what she was hearing was just the queen trying to stay strong in such a time like this instead of the coldness that she felt was the queen's actual emotion. The king was dead and ... this was her reaction?
"The king's dead," the queen said again, this time turning to face her. Her eyes locked unto Mynera's. "But the prince is not. Now instead of wasting all this precious time sobbing in a corner, we should be getting out of here and to safety."
"She's right, Mynera," Hale agreed. Mynera frowned at him. "We can't waste any more time here. We need to go."
That was their plan? It was easy for them to say. They hadn't just watch their father be murdered before their very eyes. They didn't have the overwhelming urge to run back into the battle ensuing above them, wielding a sword, and cut down everyone they could see. They weren't the ones fighting the urge to fall to the ground again in another fit of tears. In fact, if it hadn't been for the queen's obviously low opinion of her, she probably would have.
"Mynera, they're right."
Her head swung around. Saenar stood there looking at her solemnly. Him too?
Saenar picked up his axe from the ground and turned his back to her. It was a good thing that he did. That way, he didn't see the glare she burned into his back, his betrayal a stab to the back. Of them all, he should at least understand what she was feeling. Her father wasn't the only one who had died.
"They'll be down here before long," he continued. "We need to get out of here before they do. Luckily, I know the path out of here."
"Oh, you do?" Mynera asked, her tone low and angry. "Then by all means, lead the way. Our fathers won't mind us leaving their bodies up there to rot."
"Mynera."
"Or maybe, they won't rot. No, no. Maybe their bodies will be drained of their blood and dried, so they can hang it up in their homes like a prized kill!"
"Mynera!" Saenar whirled around and reached her in three angry strides. She looked up at him, matching the icy glare with a heated one of her own. "We're leaving. Now!"
She threw her hands up in the air with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. "Very well, then!" She wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. "Let us simply run away like a bunch of cowards."
Saenar had already turned his back to her, not bothering to justify what she had said with a response. He just gripped his axe a bit tighter but he kept his stride straight, as if he was trying to remain the epitome of brave. Mynera didn't care in the slightest. She was too busy cursing him in her head, directing all her emotions on anger so as not to fall into another pit of depression. Hale walked up beside her and sent her an encouraging smile but she glared at him too.
"Don't come near me," she warned him.
"I just want you to bear in mind that it was none of us that killed your father," he said calmly as they walked. "It was those men up there."
"Then we should be up there! Fighting! Not down here!"
"What odds do you think we will have against that many? Two against, what? Thousands?"
Her chin lifted just a bit. Of course, he would count her out. "Not two," she said tartly. "Three. Four, if the queen would like to join us."
"I will do no such thing, thank you," the queen cut in haughtily. "The fighting should be left to the men."
"The fighting should be left to those who are willing to fight." Another tear fell from Mynera's eye. This time she didn't wipe it away. She let it stay there, as a reminder to them that, although she was giving in and following behind, she was still grieving her father. A voice in the back of her head reminded her that a lady should never shed more than a few tears. Considering the waterfall she had released a few moments ago, she'd never felt less like a lady. All Margot's teachings were disappearing by the day.
It's my father, she reminded herself. No matter how tense and strained their relationship had been, he was still her flesh and blood. These tears were warranted. She didn't care about keeping her tears to a minimum. Right now, all she cared about was killing everyone who thundered about above her.
"Mynera, we will return, you know." Hale gave her a weak smile. "Do you really think we'll let these trespassers take the crown from us like this?"
"Isn't that what we're doing right now?" Mynera couldn't stop herself from sounding bitter. "They're taking the crown from us right this minute."
"But, we'll be back," he assured. She looked up at him to see his face set in grim lines. She didn't like it. It made him look too old, too weary. "We will be back."
She fell into silence after that. We'll be back. Those words played over and over in her head, each time resounding louder and louder. We'll be back.
Aye, they would most definitely return and she would make sure she was on the front lines when they did. That hadn't been her back there. That hadn't been Mynera Antarian, the warrior priestess. It had looked more like Mynera Antarian, fragile lady they all thought she was, and that simple fact made her clench her fist in anger. She hated herself for not grabbing a sword and cutting through every single enemy until she had painted the walls red. She shouldn't have let Saenar lead her to safety like she was some sort of helpless girl. She was nothing of the sort; far from it.
Yes, they would be back. Stronger than before. She wouldn't think of how, or when right now. Just the thought of returning was enough fuel to allow her to continue to place one foot before the other, following behind Saenar.
Mynera stared into Saenar's retreating back. Did he not care that his father was dead? Was he not grieving? How could he pick up his axe and continue on, as if nothing had happened? It made her so angry that she had the nasty urge to pick up a rock and chuck it at his head. That would certainly give her some satisfaction to see him feel just a little pain.
The silence was their constant companion as they walked, only joined by the soft dripping of water and the sporadic sounds of mice scurrying along in the corners. Mynera had expected Queen Madeline to be complaining about the damp, cold, and downright smelly place they were in but she, surprisingly, did nothing of the sort. She was quiet, walking with her hands clasped before her. How she managed to go through all that and still come out with her beautiful blue dress looking as spotless as before was a mystery. Mynera looked down at her torn wedding dress, seeing that it could probably now be called black instead of white.
The air had grown incredibly chilly. Her flared sleeves covered her shoulders well enough but the ends were so open that it gave the cold enough space to crawl upwards from her hands. The shortness of her dress was making it no better either. In fact, she was close to freezing. Mynera grabbed her upper arms and rubbed vigorously in a desperate attempt to warm herself, blowing air out of her mouth.
"Are you cold?" Hale asked her.
She barely glanced at him, keeping her eyes trained ahead. "Freezing," she answered.
He began shrugging out of his coat. Mynera looked at him with a frown. "What are you doing?"
"Warming you." He tried to wrap the coat around her shoulders and she felt a quick second of wonderful heat before sliding away from it.
"No, thank you."
"You are cold, my lady. You need some warmth or you'll freeze."
"And you will not? Should I take a coat from you to warm myself only to watch you yourself freeze yourself? I think not."
Hale sighed. "What happened to the lady who was all smiles and manners? She would have taken the coat from me."
"That lady died as soon as her father did," she replied calmly. From the corner of her eye, Mynera saw Hale stiffen, then watched as his eyes fell. "Moreover, not accepting the coat for your own good is manners in itself. I suppose not all of her is gone."
"That's good to know." For a second she wondered what he would say if she were to tell him that that person never existed. For some strange reason, she felt he already knew.
"Is Lady Mynera the only one affected by the cold?" the queen spoke up from beside me.
Mynera looked over at Queen Madeline who was staring straight ahead. A glimmer of pity for Hale ran through her when he hurriedly rushed over to the queen, apologizing profusely as he offered her the coat. She felt even worse for him when the queen refused him, as she was having none of it.
"You clearly did not intend to offer me any warmth. Your queen, might I add. So there's no need to do so now." Queen Madeline sounded a bit hurt, but her face looked as if she couldn't care less.
Hale was now practically tripping over himself to make it up to her. Mynera walked away from him, not wanting to hear what was being said and she began walking beside Saenar.
He didn't even glance at her when she walked up beside him. She looked up at him to see his face set in stone. Whatever glimmer of a boy she thought had been left him in was gone. The person who stood beside her was a man. A man of action. Someone she believed she would be willing to follow behind into battle. Just that mere thought threw her off balance.
Saenar's eyes were hard. She continued to look up at him until he said, "What is it, Mynera?"
She looked away. "I suppose the king's death had some effect on you, after all." His head snapped in her direction but she plowed on, not allowing him to speak. "That's good. I was beginning to think that you were a cold-hearted bastard. And I'm not apologizing for my words."
Saenar's eyes, to her complete and utter surprise, became colder. She hadn't thought it possible. He looked forward. "Mind it, my lady. Your words have become crude and we aren't even out of the castle as yet."
"My words were always crude, Your Highness. You just never noticed it past all the false flattery and courtesies I've become very adept at."
"You sound proud of yourself."
"It doesn't matter if I am. Now, are we almost out of this freezing hell?"
He nodded, a small and barely noticeable movement.
"Is the exit at the next corner?" she pressed.
She was met with silence. Just hard, cold eyes staring straight ahead.
"The next two corners then?" Mynera continued. "Of course, this all depends on how long it takes to get to reach, doesn't it?" More silence. Mynera gritted her teeth. He was getting harder to break. "What are we going to do when we get out? Regroup?"
This time, he did look back at her but the look was filled with anger and anguish. She blinked, taken aback by the sudden rush of emotion that had appeared on his face. He didn't even say much. Only a soft, "I wish" but his face told her all she that she needed to know. He was grieving. He just wasn't showing it. He wanted to go back there and fight just as much as she did and that knowledge, the knowledge that she wasn't alone, gave her comfort.
She didn't reach her hand out to take his, although she suddenly got the urge to. He had to be strong and any amount of comfort he was given just might have him breaking into a million pieces. No, instead of touching him she sent him a smile, one she made sure he saw.
The smile said it all. I'm here. I'm with you.
That was all he was going to allow and that was all she was going to give.