The Princess's Servant

6. The Agreement

The princess marched straight from the throne room, past the long hall of windows, rounded a corner or two before making it to the great stone stairs that led down to the dungeon. Passing helmeted guards, she reached the little old locking door that nestled at the bottom of the steps. The keeper of that door pulled out a long wirey key and unlocked it for her.

Sybil descended into the damp, lantern-lit interior and caught glance of Holden's sapphire tunic. "Everybody out," she said, and the male and female guards looked to each other as they exited the room. Sybil marched straight to Holden's cell and watched as he picked himself up off the dry-ish patch on the floor and faced her with an intensity that she rarely saw from caged prisoners.

"What the hell?!" She asked him, her dress bunched up in her hands to avoid the standing water. "You told on me to my mother?!"

Holden's mind sorted through a hundred thoughts. "I didn't know the queen was your mother," he told her. "If I had known, I would have been a little more careful with my testimony." His words were like mad dogs held back on leashes, noses thick with the scent of prey.

"Oh, so it's my fault you blabbed to her about my night time activities?! Gods!" She cried. "Where do you get off?!"

Holden threw his head forward in surprise. "Where do I get off?!" He asked. "I'm not the one running around torturing my own civilians!"

"Everyone knows what they're getting themselves into when they make a bet with me! And besides, the only reason they take those bets is so they have the chance to do some vile thing. They're not innocent parties."

"Which is all fine and well, but you weight your dice. So you can't really say they know what they're getting themselves into, can you?"

The princess folded her arms. "You seemed to figure it out quick enough. They could probably do the same if they cared enough to look," she said.

Holden's jaw relaxed at her words and he shook his head ever so slightly. "I am genuinely shocked you haven't been murdered yet," he said. "You say any of that where I come from and you'll be dead before the sound of unsheathing reaches your ears."

"Oh, yeah?" She asked. "Is that how they do things in Ward?" Sybil asked in annoying sarcasm.

Holden didn't say anything.

"I recognize your clothing," she said. "All the visitors from your ant hill breeze in wearing that material in that cut. It's lapis, isn't it? That color."

Holden sighed and folded his arms. He studied the forming staglytes along the dungeon ceiling. 

"Your lapis comes from my kingdom's hillside. Didn't you think it was weird no one pegged you as a traveler? That you looked so similar to everyone else that no one bat an eye? Your ruler has taken so much from us that there's no difference between us anymore! Of course, my people can barely afford to wear their own color, but who cares, right? Lailoyans don't matter!"

Holden shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about?! How did we get here?!"

"Your people colonized mine!" The princess said. "And they stole all of our resources!"

"Okay?" Holden said. "And?"

"And you're a part of that!" she said.

Holden scrunched his lower eyelids. "Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait." He took a step back. "Is that what all this is about?" He looked at the woman, her icy eyes burning. "Is that why you called me a thief? Took me out to the barn? Had me arrested? Is all of this," he gestured around his cell, "because I'm Wardian?"

"No," the princess said. "'All of this'" she mocked his gesture, "is because you couldn't stay out of other people's business. If you had ignored my games and left people to make their own choices, you wouldn't be here. But..." she allowed. "I wouldn't say being Wardian helps your chances."

"My chances?" He asked. He brought his face so close to the bars that he could fit not even four fingers between him and the slit.

The princess stood there with her head high and her arms crossed.

He raised his eyebrows. "Wow," he said. Rats scuttled in the dark and water trickled into puddles. "You want to kill me because I asked you to stop hurting people. I'd say it's ironic but that's exactly what I'd expect from someone like you."

"Someone like me?" The princess smiled a wry smile. "And what do you know about someone like me?"

"More than you'd think," Holden said, his voice heavy.

The princess tutted and shook her head. "Then it shouldn't be surprising when I tell you I still want what I'm owed." She turned to the heavy door to her left and yelled. "Guards!"

The guards came rushing in. Holden looked to them.

"Wait," he said, angry that he felt a panic rising in him. "We should talk about this more. I feel like we've really been getting somewhere with this conversation."

"And I think I've waited long enough," the princess said, pulling up one side of her skirt to reveal white stocks and a small sheath at her thigh. She drew a needle-like knife and watched the candle light dance in its blade.

"You don't want to do this," he said, inspecting the hinges on the door. Rusted over. Holden considered telling the princess the truth about who he was and why he had come to her fair kingdom. But then he thought the truth might make his situation worse.

"I do," she said. "Now, please. Through the bars. Give me your hand." She held out a slender hand herself.

The male guard drew a key from his side and stared Holden down with it. Holden looked to the key and looked to the blade and saw but one way out.

"I could do that," he said. "And you could take your prize."

"Great, that's what I want," she said.

"But you'd be missing out on something better."

Sybil watched him for any sign of tricks. "And that would be?"

"Well, I sensed that you might be dissatisfied with your mother's attendee..."

"And?"

"And perhaps you would prefer one of your own. Only problem is, an attendant needs hands attached." He blinked his fingers a few times. "Generally."

The princess looked surprised, the way one does when one notices an elegant solution that was right in front of them all along. "Hm," she said, watching his curling dusty brown hair, his lean but muscular build. "Mother did say I needed a new outlet for my aggression." She thought on this point and then nodded her head a few times. "Very well," she said. "You can be my slave."

"Attendant," he corrected.

"Whatever." The princess sheathed her blade. "What did you say your name was?" The princess asked. "Actually—" she held out her hand. "Don't tell me. Your name's Wardian now," she smiled. The guards shared a strange glance that Holden couldn't decipher. "Come on, Wardian," the princess called as she started on her way out. "We've got work to do."

The guards looked at each other again and unlocked Holden's cell. Even as the door opened and he felt his hands attached, Holden wondered if he had made the right call.