CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The four of us split into groups of four. The two Igancio brothers scoured the lower parts of the strangely beautiful but dark castle while Ronan and I searched the upper parts of the castle. Everywhere I looked I was amazed, just as breathless as I was when I spent my free time roaming around the castle back in Deidrif. The magnificence was alluring but there was a stark contrast with both the castles.
The castle back in Deidrif was much larger, obviously having more time and investment to improve and enhance the infrastructure. The castle here in Fallonailes was comparatively smaller but still breathtakingly beautiful. There was this dark edge to the castle here, this haunting design that blended in with the castle's beauty. It reflected Thorin's soul well.
Ronan and I were at the very top of the castle now, his sword drawn while I attempted to hold the sword I picked up from the courtroom with my hands. I've handled a sword before when Alastair and Brice helped me train but something about putting me spot on in this situation was making me both nervous and excited and that I felt terribly inexperienced holding a sword.
Ronan held his hand up, his gloved hand going to his lips, the motion telling me to me silent. He jerked his head to the side and that's when I realised that there was someone at the top of the tower. I nodded and with our swords drawn I pushed the door open with my foot and Ronan stepped through first, his sword flying almost instantly to the throat of a young male.
My eyes widened and I gasped but not at my father's fast reflex skills but at the man that had a sword to his throat. It was one of the five men that chased me that day, back in the mortal world. One of the five men that had taken up so much energy to fight with.
"It's good to see you again, Princess Genevieve," he bowed his head slightly, making sure that Ronan's blade didn't cut into his skin. My face hardened at his words and anger slowly started to seep into my system again. "It's been a while since I've seen you. Oh, look at how much you've changed! I can tell that your King is proud."
My father looked at him with steely eyes and pressed the blade harder against his throat so that the man would wince with that trucks of pain but not hard enough to draw blood yet. Keeping his eyes on his prey, my father asked, "what is he talking about? Where have you seen him before?"
"He attacked me once when I was in the mortal world, when I had little to no knowledge about my real life," I replied, my voice steady as I didn't want to give the man any indication of any emotions that were raging through me.
"I remember all the things you did to me, your Highness," the man said, his face smug as his hand fell down to his shirt. Unlike the other people who my father and I encountered in our way to the top tower of this castle, he was clad in normal clothing, no bodily armour. He lifted his shirt up and a bruise met my eyes. "You didn't just bruise me with your elbow, you tore some skin out, too."
The sight made bile rise to my throat and I swallowed down my disgust. Had I been that violent that day? Did I really do that? A bruise was all that was left, fading out, but the fact that its presence was still there after so long showed me how forceful I had been.
"I'd like to return the favour," he said and my head jerked up from his toned abdomen to his face. He was handsome, with that dark and sinister look.
Ronan pressed the blade harder against his throat and blood trickled down in a small thin line till it reached the other end of the blade and fell over. Blood was drawn, a fight was about to break.
"You're not getting close to her," my father glared, speaking through gritted teeth but his threat was to no avail as suddenly the man was smirking and I felt something being clamped over my mouth as an arm draped around my stomach, hard and tight, and a leg wrapped around my own legs, leaving me constricted and having no space to move. Hair brushed the side of my face and the scent of jasmine hit me strong as my sword clattered down to the marble floor.
"I don't have to," the man replied as he nodded his head towards me and my father let his guard down all too fast. I wanted to scream, to tell him that the woman that was holding me back now was just a distraction but my scream was muffled against the hand that was clamped down on my mouth and instead of making my father aware of what I thought, my muffled scream made him whirl in worry. He thought I was in trouble.
This was all the man needed. He reached down and shoved my father on his chest which sent him tumbling back. The man swooped the sword from my father's grip and with his foot he ground into my father's shin, making my father's cry echo around the small tower room.
I thrashed against the woman's hold, worry blossomed within me as I watched my father struggle to get into his feet. I tried using my hands and my arms because they were the only part of my body that wasn't being restricted but the more I fumbled the tighter the woman's grasp was on me. She held me so tight that I could practically feel her frantic heartbeat through the material.
But it wasn't the frantic heartbeat that entailed that she was excited or exhilarated. No, this was a heartbeat of panic and fear. But what for?
Before I could comprehend anything, I was being shoved onto the floor, the cold marble biting my palms as I fell flat against them. The stinging pain subsided fast and my father who was now standing gripped my arm to help me stand up. I didn't want to show them I was weak or that I was unable to fight a good, mean fight so I shoved my father's hand away and stood up. My father's face fell slightly but he quickly masked it, his features turning into a mask of blazing fury in the blink of an eye as he whirled around to face our opponents.
I wanted to tell him that I didn't mean to be rude and that I wasn't really being rude but now wasn't the time to be talking about such trivial things such as emotions when death was slowly creeping up to us.
The woman with the feline jasmine scent looked rather pretty in the same crooked way that the man was attractive. "Hello, darling," she purred. "Shame really. With how my boys highly praised you I expected a little more."
I glared icily at her. "You're going to have to deal with me, bitch," I snarled before I launched myself into the air. I smashed into her and we tumbled a few metres away from the man and my father who were now fighting. I spotted them through the corner of my eye but I couldn't exactly focus my attention on them because Jasmine Lady was attacking my shin.
Why did they always go for the injured shin? That's when it clicked within me. They knew about the Lockteer's damage and the shin was still a sore spot and to weaken me, they would make the Lockteer's damage worse. I didn't know whether to applaud them for being cunning or to spit in their faces for being so vile.
I wound my leg around her waist and placed her back against my chest, putting her into a similar position that she had put me in mere seconds ago. The ice cold floor sent shivers up my spine as my ragged shirt that hung stickily to me met the floor. The girl wound her hands around my wrist as she attempted to pull them away from me.
And then - and then I felt her fingers pry open my hand and I held firm, putting more force so she couldn't break free from my grasp, before she whispered, her voice shaking and nothing like the confident voice I had heard mere minutes ago, "please, I'm trying to help you."
I tightened my hold around her, my arm now digging into her neck. "Sure you are," I bit out icily.
"Just open your palm," she hissed.
"Good try, Jasmine Lady," I cut back, trying to hold her in place as she wiggled in my hold. How had she done this so effortlessly because I was struggling to keep her in place?
"Oh my, you're impossible!" she exclaimed and I was about to grin as I took that as her defeat, as I took that as her white flag waving in the air, before her head jutted backwards and hit me square in the jaw, the pain jolting right up to the top of my head. She scrambled up and before I could get up as well, she slammed her hand on the centre of my chest and I fell back to the cold, hard floor with a thud. I groaned, willing my body to get up but the pain intensified with each attempt. The girl quickly leaned forward and took my hand. I tried to swat her away, panic slowly easing within me. What the hell was she doing? But she didn't give in easily and I didn't put up much of a fight because the pain was throbbing so bad inside of me.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out, my eyes stinging with heat as I took a deep breath and pushed myself up on my elbows. It took maximum effort but once I was propped on my elbows the pain didn't seem all that bad as it did just seconds ago.
She pulled something up from under her sleeve, the light glinting against the object, and placed it on my chest before she hissed, "hide it! Greysin mustn't see it!"
My eyes widened in alarm. Greysin? Was that the man's name, the one who was dealing with my father? Her eyes were wide and I quickly did as she said, slipping the dagger through the hoop of my jeans.
That was when she yelled, "Greysin!" My head whirled instantly to my father and Greysin - to see that Greysin had stepped back, all his defences down. Greysin and Jasmine Lady nodded at each other and Jasmine Lady swooped down to take the sword that I had dropped down the floor when she had held me captive. My throat closed as she looked at me. She was going to kill me. Oh gosh, she was going to kill me. But then - then what was the dagger she gave me for?
Greysin and Jasmine Lady nodded at each other before they lifted their swords up to their chests. I cast a panicked look at my father who was entranced by what Greysin and Jasmine Lady were doing. What were they doing? Why weren't they trying to kill us? Why were they drawing the swords against themselves?
Greysin shoved the blade into his chest before Lady Jasmine did, giving her a few seconds to spare. Once she saw that Greysin was down she quickly bent down to her knees and crouched down in front of me. "My name is Edith Gella. Find my family. Tell them that I love them and that this was the only way."
I couldn't help but feel the same way my father looked - entranced. I didn't quite understand what exactly was happening but she wasn't going to kill me. She was going to kill herself just like Greysin did but for what? It seemed that my father realised this too because he ran across the room, trying to stop her but she already said, with a smile on her face, "I hope you're worth it, Princess," before she drove the sword right through her heart.
My very own heart was about to jump out. I couldn't understand what I had just seen, what had just happened, and I was mortified, horrified beyond belief as I watched her beautiful body fall ungracefully to the floor, her eyes wide open and her tongue stuck ever so slightly out of her mouth.
I scrambled towards her, my father already beside her, cursing under his breath like I couldn't hear him. Ronan lifted his hand up, two fingers out, and placed them on her eyelids. Closing them, he let out a shudder and whispered, his voice gruff with disgust and horror, "they were a blood sacrifice."
"What do you mean?" I asked, not once removing my gaze from Jasmine Lady - Edith Gella.
"Thorin wants to send us a message," Ronan said, swallowing loudly. "When we were kids we used to play in the Royal Garden, except then the garden was bigger. Thorin and I were playing there when he called two maids in, telling me about how blood magic worked. I told him that it was ridiculous and that we shouldn't mess around with magic because it was banned. Thorin knew that and he still wanted to have his little fun, claiming that nothing would happen to him if he got caught because he was the King's son and the King wouldn't execute his own son - and definitely not the son who was supposed to be the heir to the throne."
I could already see where the story was headed to and yet I couldn't help but ask, "what happened?" I pried my eyes away from Edith's gorgeous body that was now covered in sick, sticky crimson liquid. It was so thick and disgusting I wondered why I couldn't take my eyes off her. She looked horrifyingly beautiful.
With swords struck down deep in their chests, both Edith Gella and Greysin looked like they didn't want to go through with this. They looked like they didn't want to die but they had to and I realised then, all too late like my father, that the reason they had to see this act through was because they were compelled to play out this monstrous act.
When I looked at my father I saw that he wasn't looking at me. He was still looking at Edith Gella, his fingers fixing things that fell out of place and his fingers were now glossed with blood but by how he was shaking I didn't think he was even concerned about the blood on his hands.
"Thorin wanted me to see the beauty of blood magic. So he brought me to the Royal Garden and brought two maids along with him. He was supposed to slit their wrist and use magic to take some blood out so that he could craft random objects. He talked of showing me wonders and the two maids didn't object. He put them under a spell. He talked about how he would heal the maids and that the slits wouldn't even be painful. But what he intended to do...he was so new to blood magic that it all went terribly wrong."
A tense pause, the brief silence more deafening than a scream. "He made them slit their wrists and he tried using his magic to draw out blood but instead... Instead he used so much force that so much blood burst out of them that he couldn't even stop it. My father, your grandfather, found out and was furious. He masked the scent of blood and even though magic was banned at that time, he had to use magic to close off that part of the Garden. And ever since that day, I continued to love Thorin, but I never quite saw him in the same light as I used to. After that I became competitive with him because I didn't want my brother to be King. Who knew of what he was capable of? I was constantly judging him and I knew it wasn't right but I couldn't not judge him. He was just so...strange, loving all the wrong things."
I waited for a few more seconds before it became evident that it was the end of Ronan's story and that he wasn't willing to talk anymore. I let it all sink in. Thorin was corrupted from childhood. "It's a message?" I asked, my voice hoarse as my eyes skittered back to Edith Gella.
"Yes. Thorin is waiting for me in the banned area of the Royal Garden," my father replied before he took in a deep breath and shuddered. He got up onto his feet, snatched the swords that were embodied into the chests of the two people who were forced to die against their own will.
He whirled to meet my eyes then and I looked up at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. I didn't have to be close to my father to know what he was going to say next.
"You should stay here until I come to get you back-"
I smiled, shaking my head before interrupting him. "No can do, my King," I said, standing up quickly that I had to wince at the tingle of pain that shot through me. I gave a short, mocking curtsy to my father and said, "you're going to save your wife and end your brother. I want to aid you to save my mother and to kill me uncle." Before Ronan had the chance to object, I hastily added, "you can go now and try and leave me behind but I'm not restricted. I will follow you."
Ronan scrunched his face, creases forming on his forehead as he scratched his head, white and brown hair all over the place. He looked like a mess, with that overgrown beard and those once livid green eyes now tired and wary. "I can look for Alastair-"
"And make him cast a spell on me so that I'll be locked in this tower?"
Ronan glared at me. "Look here, Gen," he said sharply and a part of me wanted to smile because he sounded undeniably irritated and angry which meant that he was highly concerned about my wellbeing, "I just got my daughter back and I'll be damned if I lose her again. You understand?"
I nodded, smiling, trying not to enjoy the moment because now wasn't the time to feel nostalgic or reminisce on what my father and I could have had. "Understood, your Highness. Can we leave now?"
"No! I just told you that I don't want to get you killed and you're asking to come with me?" With how angry Ronan was I was surprised that steam wasn't blowing out of his ears.
I walked towards my father and wrapped my hand around his forearm. "Look, Ronan, I appreciate your concern. Honestly, you have no idea how much it means to me."
His face softened then, the anger slowly sliding away. "I think I have an idea of how you're feeling," he commented and I smiled wider and I could almost feel my heart twist in pain. He was right, I knew that. I could die any second. I could be harmed. I could be killed. And yet, all of it didn't matter in that moment because what mattered most was saving my mother and I didn't care if it had cost my life. Anything to save Mum.
"I'm the Princess. I admit it was a little weird at first and I was very awkward with the title and the job but I understand now. I understand everything you did, everything you do. You're looking out for your people and me...I want to look out for them too because I know one day they will be my people too and I'd have to take care of Deidrif just like you have been doing all these years. So, father, give me a chance to be the Princess this Kingdom deserves."
I stepped away from my father, bracing myself for his reaction and when I saw a small smile take over his lips - forced or not, I didn't care - my heart lifted. "Oh Genevieve," he whispered, bringing his hand up to my cheek. "You, my dear, will one day make a great Queen. Just look at you now. Mariana would be proud."
A pang had hit me in the chest then and I felt my eyes burn but I held my ground and nodded instead of crying. "Does this mean I get to come now?"
Ronan chuckled, letting me go and stepping back. Something about seeing my father laugh lifted something heavy in my chest. He gripped the other sword and threw it at me. I caught it by the hilt and I was glad that we were close to each other because then I wouldn't have caught it or I would have caught it but not by the hilt.
"We need to find Alastair and Brice," Ronan said, the seriousness taking its place on his features, "Archie and Caspian Wintry can help, too."
My eyes widened slightly at the mention of an unknown name. "Caspian Wintry?" I questioned, "who is that?"
"He is the Prince of Alecta. Philip Rowstring was his friend and he came to honour his friend's death," Ronan said, smiling wistfully.
A lump rose to my throat at the mention of Philip and I had to remind myself that the real Philip wasn't an imposter, that he was probably a good man and he had died at the hands of a merciless killer, Josiah, and that the real Philip Rowstring wasn't the Philip Rowstring I knew.
I nodded, taking in a deep breath and gripping onto the hilt of my sword as I raised it. "Let's go."
A/N:
oh my goodness, this story is almost coming to an end. just a four more chapters asdfghjkl. who is ready? do you think it's going to be a happy/sad/frustrating (etc) ending and what are your predictions on how it's all going to end?
drop your thoughts below! i always love seeing them. special shoutout to @clarkethevirus for her supportive comments and funny/brilliant reactions <3
also, who else thinks this cover of Wicked Chase is fab because for once, i actually think i love it: