Insurrection [On Hold]

8 Nature

He calls Jonah in to unchain me from the table and chair—because apparently my father can't lower himself to press a button. I exit the tent and walk around the camp in a daze. Kill Nate? The man I owe my life. I feel like the Huntsman from Snow White. Bring back Nate's body or I'm as good as dead.

The sun shines in my eyes. Pink and orange hues mix with the clouds. So beautiful but so deadly. As the day ends so must a life.

"Raksana," my father calls. "Get in here." He holds the flap of a tent open, and keeping my head straight, I walk past him and stand before five men who are gathered around a hologram table like the one Nate has, except this one is in color. Greens and browns fill the air over the table.

"Princess," they all murmur. Two step to the side to allow me to examine the map.

My father takes his place across from me. "During the battle today, some of my men found an escape tunnel here." His finger points to a grayed-out area on the map. You are to sneak in, kill their leader, and get out. Understand?"

Everyone nods, repeating the customary phrase of submission, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Raksana?" My father looks at me as I don't make any acknowledgement that I heard him or that I will obey.

"I don't want to do this."

One of the men slaps me on the shoulder, his face oval in shape and with green eyes that shine bright. "Aww, Princess, you're probably better trained for this mission than any of us."

I flinch not used to contact from strangers that isn't meant to hurt me. I may be better trained, but I don't have the mindset for this.

I roll my eyes at the men—not including my father— in attempt to hide my real fear. "I'm just worried that none of you are trained enough."

For a moment their faces are shocked, and I feel horrible at what I said. They are some of my father's best men. Of course they're trained enough, but I have to assert dominance.

"At least they're dressed properly," my father snaps. I look down, realizing I'm still in my torn clothes. He grabs a bundle from near his feet and throws it at me. "Go change. You have five minutes."

"Yes, sir." I hurry out of the tent and into another, grateful he didn't make me change in the tent with them. He thinks modesty is a weakness. I can't even count the number of times my brothers and sisters have used the restroom in front of me while on a training exercise in the forest.

I change into the cream colored uniform of my father's army, dropping the old clothes to the ground. The green bead rolls out of the pocket, and my stomach twists. I quickly tuck it into my pocket and return to the original tent while I pull my hair up. The men are picking out weapons, my father nowhere to be seen. It's up to us now. The men glance at me for split seconds before looking away. I grab a hand gun and tuck it into the holder on my belt as well as a knife.

"I'm Grant," the one who spoke to me earlier says as he walks up to me to grab a knife. His blond hair is messy as if he's ran his hand through it numerous times.

I nod.

"And I'm Mathew." Another man, his black hair so greasy it looks like he could have just taken a shower, holds out his hand to me. I stop myself from shaking his hand and merely bite my lip glancing down at his large hand. I have to be the one in charge. I can't let them think they have any sway with me.

Mathew drops his hand, trying not to seem offended. "That's Marco." He points out the smallest man of the group with black curly hair and olive skin who checks out his gun, ignoring us. Next, he points to the red haired man who simply looks at me and with a huff returns to examining his gun. "That's Morse."

I nod at each of them whether or not they notice.

Mathew opens his mouth. "And—"

"You got a problem with us, Princess?" the one man I don't know the name of snaps at me. He's the one with the most muscle of the group, and the one who has a fresh scar running across his cheek. Great. I managed to tick off the scariest one.

I cross my arms. "Not really. You just look like the kind of people who aren't going to take me seriously or listen to my orders."

"Aren't you observant?" He chuckles bitterly. "Because none of us are going to listen to your orders."

I keep my arms crossed as I approach him until I can tilt my head back to see the bottom of his chin. I narrow my eyes. "Excuse you? I believe my father is your king. I outrank you."

He shakes his head and sets his gun down. "Your father, the king, appointed me leader and made sure to note that for this mission you can't pull your rank on any of us."

I exhale slowly. I'm not shocked. I'm panicked at what could happen out there and angered, but not shocked. I know for sure this man won't hesitate to pull the trigger on Nate and maybe not me either.

Should Raksana be loyal to her army and kill Nate, or does she really owe him her life?