Princesa (gxg)

4: Volunteers, Anyone?

She hasn't returned in a fortnight.

Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

I understand when warriors are shipped out to the battle they can be gone for days, weeks. Months, for the unlucky ones. But some foolish thought of mine believed she'd find a way to get out of the war, to get back to me with information so we can share our findings.

And findings I have.

ꝟ

I was sat in my father's Great Room a week after the rebels meeting in the Stones. It's where he strategizes and crafts new plans for the war, new laws for the kingdom. It's where he founded the idea of stealing children, I realized. Where he made warriors out of babes.

He was behind his oak desk, head hung in thought. Braedon was in a chair next to the door, normally reserved for my father's manservant to take notes. Braedon had taken a book and hid it within the pages of his pad, silently reading and doing his duty.

"The Pantera is being poached," my father said softly, looking to me.

"By whom?"

"I have no information. They are picked off the streets at night during their rounds. I'd ordered them to never go on their shifts alone, always in pairs, and they were still taken."

"Kidnapped or dead?" I asked, false concern in my voice.

"Seemingly kidnapped, but I'd assume dead. We haven't found any bodies."

I fought to restrain the smile that wanted to crawl upon my lips. These are killers practically from birth. Of course they'd know how to get rid of a body.

"What is your plan?"

"I don't have one," he answered, and I was genuinely surprised. "I can't withdraw them from the public because it would spark confusion. They would know something is wrong. But if I leave them out there, more will be taken." He stared at me heavily. "What do you think I should do?"

I faltered. "Me?"

"You are the heir to the throne, Amelia. This is the type of problem you may encounter. What is your take on how to solve it?"

This was the first time he was asking for my input, and I realized he must be genuinely clueless as to what to do. So I sat up straighter, pushed back my shoulders, and said, "I think you should remove them from the streets."

His brows furrowed. "Why? Wouldn't that cause a panic? Raise questions?"

"You don't want any more of your guard killed. It's the only solution. The public may ask questions but they don't care enough about the Pantera to actually voice them. You hold such a tight rule they wouldn't question your actions."

He nodded slowly, thinking it over. I could tell he knew I was right, but there was something else stopping him.

And then it dawned on me.

He needed the Pantera in the streets so he could use them to take more children. He needed soldiers to steal the youth to make warriors. 

"Very well. I cannot risk any more of the Pantera losing numbers."

He licked his fingers, paging through papers and files strewn over his desk.

I didn't know what that would mean for the future. How would he obtain new warriors? What would become of the ones already fighting? I didn't know whether it was a victory or a defeat.

"Braedon, did you get that?" he boomed.

My brother jumped, dropping his pad and book. Both skittered over the floor in view of my father. They stared at each other coldly.