A Royal's Tale [COMPLETED]

Chapter 26 - "Get out of my way, Alwyn."

Alwyn

The huddled form in the jail cell stirred at Wilder's voice. With broken movements, the form shifted and lifted his head to the light. Wilder sucked in a sharp breath. Even with the man's face cut on one side and bruised on the other, Alwyn knew this was Wilder's father. Who else would share the same striking hazel eyes as his son?

"Father," Wilder said. He rose from his crouch and swiveled around, searching. "We need to find the keys. I have to get in there."

The urgency in Wilder's voice sounded strange to Alwyn. She'd never thought that type of desperation would come from Wilder. Before he could run off to find the keys and in the process get them caught, Alwyn grabbed his arm.

"Hold this," she said, pushing the torch into his hands. "And hold still."

It spoke to how rattled Wilder was that he didn't argue or question her. That alone unnerved Alwyn. She extracted two slender metal picks from a cut in her belt and went to work. The lock was more complex than the one in the main prison. But Alwyn steadied her breathing and felt as she guided the picks through the tumblers.

A satisfying click filled the quiet prison and she swung to door open. Wilder hurried inside, kneeling by his father. The light made the man wince and Alwyn snatched the torch from Wilder's hand before he could blind his father. Wilder didn't even seem to notice.

"Father," Wilder said. "I thought...I thought you were dead."

Alwyn stared at Wilder. No longer could she see the arrogant, commanding leader that had stepped onto her ship. Instead, she saw a boy. A boy who'd lost his father and found him again. The vulnerability of the moment forced Alwyn to set aside her previous anger at him.

Wilder reached out and gently helped his father to sit up. Wilder's father grunted with the movement and Alwyn dropped her gaze away from his face and to the rest of him. His uniform was dirty and ripped in places, exposing barely cared for lashes and bruises. His feet were bare and it looked like someone had sliced the bottom of them, making it impossible for him to walk. The brutality of it all made Alwyn hurt for this man.

Wilder's father opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a low grasp. Failing a second time to speak, he leaned his head back against the metal bars and closed his eyes, exhausted. It was then Alwyn saw beyond the beating, instead saw the starvation.

"Stay here," she told Wilder.

It was a pointless command since Wilder appeared to be made of stone, his eyes pinned on his father. Alwyn left the cell, taking the light with her. She retraced their steps until she returned to the escape tunnel door.

With more effort than she thought it would take, she pried the door open enough for her to slip through. She rummaged through her pack until she found her water canteen and her rations. When she returned to Wilder's side, she held out the gift.

"This will help," she said.

Wilder wordlessly accepted the water and food. Shifting closer to his father, he carefully tipped the canteen to his father's lips. The Commander started to revive at the first dribbles. When he'd drunk half of the contents, he seemed more awake.

With the same caring movements, Wilder fed his father bits of food. As the last of it vanished, Wilder's father stared up at his son. Weakly, he raised his hand and touched Wilder's cheek.

"Wilder," he said, his deep voice still rough from pain.

"I'm here," Wilder said, his voice choked.

His father blinked then frowned. "The Princess?"

"She's safe."

The Commander let out a sigh of relief. "I knew you would do it." Another thought wrinkled his brow. "Why are you back here? Where is she?"