"Crowns topple easily. Thrones crumble like dust. Hearts cease to beat. Thorns draw blood."
In a country torn into two, there should have been no room for mistakes. Especially not at the very core of the royal family. That was what she was. Yes, a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Aleksander, I can fix this. I will fix this. Don't worry. You will be fine, I promise."
Irina had looked up at him with such sincerity in her eyes, her grip on his arms tight as if she did not ever want to let him go.
She was worried about him and though, he was about to be brought into the prison that he had so successfully dodged for so long, that was the only thing that stayed in his mind. No matter how hard he tried to purge it from his mind.
He tried to reason with himself that perhaps, she trusted too easily.
Another thing he would have to remedy within her. It was good that she trusted him so quickly, it would make things much easier. But he could not have her trusting others so easily.
She should trust only him.
"Stay alive, moya tsarevna." He advised, not knowing what else to say other than to advise her to make smart decisions, to make sure that she would be alright.
She was pulled away from him and he was surprised to miss her hands on his shoulders, the warmth, and gentleness that came from her. They were replaced by rough hands, pushing him towards what he knew were the dungeons.
The last he saw of her was her petite figure being pushed into the Grand Palace, her face filled with resignation and a bit of fear.
She would be alright, she had to be.
Aleksander smelled the dungeons before he entered and saw where he was being dragged off to.
He entered the dark area filled with metal cells, all of them damp and musty. When he was a part of the Ravkan army under King Anastas, he remembered how he would send many Fjerdan captives to the dungeons, procuring answers from them through various forms of torture.
After that, he became a captive trying to escape the king's fear of Grisha.
Now, he had returned to the mercy of another king, for the sake of a Lantsov. It was funny how the world worked.
Aleksander passed a cell and he could see the glare of Irina's bodyguard. He was loyal, he'd give him that. He would be useful in the future.
The guards pushed him into a cell, his hands still cuffed in front of him. They gave him one last look, murmured a soft prayer to the Saints, and left him in the dank cell.
He let out a soft chuckle. They were still afraid of him. At least one thing hasn't changed. Just a mere glimpse of his power, he could inspire fear within anyone.
"Was this a part of your plan?" A voice called out to him from another cell.
Aleksander looked to the prisoner beside his cell, recognizing Irina's loyal guard dog. He smirked, knowing that the man was also a bit scared of him. "Why? Do you not trust your princess? Damir, was it?"
