Prince of Fire

Chapter 22

As spring slowly approached, flowers had begun to bloom in the courtyard. Rose buds peaked from bushes who were only just coming back to life, lilies dotted the ground in all colours; crocuses, daffodils, tulips, and deep green ivies running among the cacophony of colours, smelling of sunshine and the promise of a new beginning.

Lilith breathed it in, took in the sight, as she walked between the walls of the castle. The north wing towered before her, its gleaming windows showing a glimpse into the empty ballroom. The south wing stood at her back with its haunted library. The east and south wing caged her in from either side.

Despite the approaching spring, the eeriness of winter lingered. With the smell of flowers came the smell of rot; with the smell of life came the smell of death.

The courtyard was empty - even the palace was empty - at this strange early hour. She could only see the occasional maid hurrying to ready the palace for the next day, or the statue still guards watching from behind their helmets.

She looked up to the King's tower, its spires gleaming silver in the fading moonlight; the sun will be waking soon. Even from this distance, she could feel the corruption emitting from the tower. Corruption and a darkness that was not natural. She would know; she had the darkness in her since birth. But the darkness that surrounded the King was different, unnatural. She felt it when the King was near her, too. Like he carried the corruption with him wherever he went.

Turning, she faced the Prince's tower. From the outside, it looked the same as the King's: moss and dead ivy overgrowing the stones, pouring out from each crack. Sometimes Lilith feared Laurent was beyond repair. She knew how broken he must be from all the pain and torture inflicted upon him by his father. Children learned from their parents, from the behavior they witnessed and experienced. But she knew Laurent's heart, deep down, had to be good. His intentions seemed good. She hoped they were.

Across the King's stood an empty tower. Why it was empty, no one knew. Was it because the King and Queen planned to have two children, but the Queen went mad too early? Was it some secret dungeon? A treasure room?

Lastly, Lilith turned to her destination: the Queen's tower. The tower looked the same as the rest from the outside: melancholy grey stones packed atop each other, the remnants of the previous summer's ivies withered in the cracks, the roof dangerously high and pointed - a clawed finger reaching for the sky.

Lilith approached the door to the Queen's tower. The two guards stationed there reached for their swords, stepping in her path. They both towered over her, but Lilith learned long ago how to look down on people taller than her. They were also twice her muscle mass, their muscle honed bodies covered with armour. She could see nothing of their faces, save for blue eyes from one, brown from the other. They narrowed on her.

Remembering who she was supposed to be, Lilith bowed her head, and when she spoke she made her voice small. "Clean laundry for Her Highness." She lifted mentioned laundry for the guards to see.

The guards exchanged a look. The one with the blue eyes spoke, "Come back later."

Lilith pushed her annoyance down. "Laundry ought to be delivered before the Queen rises," she said with more steel in her voice than she intended. Hastily, she added, "Sir."

They looked her over once. Twice.

Lilith held her breath as they did so. She knew how slim her chances were, how much risk she was putting herself into: No one was ever assigned to take the Queen's laundry, nor to deliver it. No one was permitted to enter her tower, save for the King and the maid, old as a crone, personally assigned to care of the Queen.

The brown eyed guard sighed, clearly annoyed with her. "Let her in, Micheal."

Micheal gave his friend a disapproving look. He turned back to Lilith. "Go away, girl."