The Princess's Servant

3. The Victor

Holden didn't remember casting, but in an instant they reached the end of the game. The Priestess rolled snake eyes on the first throw, and he had rolled a three and a two. With supreme confidence, she threw her dice out into the table and came up with dice that matched his exactly. She hadn't smiled when she won. She didn't remark on it or gloat. She'd simply pulled out her dagger and stood from her chair.

"Wait wait wait!" called, but she moved towards him all the same. She pointed the knife at his chest and said "Let's go" in this flat, monotone tone. His hand tingled as he followed her direction. How could it have been? A perfect game.

The Priestess led Holden through the crowd, across the tavern, and out the door. No one dared follow for fear that they might be witness to something She didn't want them to be witness of. All broke lose from their tight configuration and wandered their separate ways. Holden tried to look back, but he got a sharp shove in the back for this transgression.

The Priestess walked him to a decomposing barn across from the Tavern on the Edge. The pantless drunk that Holden had seen earlier now laid in the bed of hay, tracing the holes in the roof with his finger. The Priestess stopped when she noticed him.

"Get out," she said.

The drunk rocked his body side to side and stood unsteadily with a "hoof!" before brushing by them. "Yes, your Highness," came his slow words.

Holden turned towards the Priestess as soon as he was out. "I have money," he told her. "Lots of it."

The Priestess advanced with her knife. It was a simple weapon, with a brown leather grip and a straight steel blade. In her hand, it seemed as a snarling fang. "Not interested," she said, taking another step towards him.

"We can play again," he offered. "Double or nothing?" Holden backed into the hay as the tip of the knife came close to his chest. He stumbled and fell into it, seat first. He felt the pressure of the straw against his back. Of the sharp point against his chest.

"I don't think so," she replied. "Give me your hand."

An anger swirled inside his head as he imagined the stinging pain to come. His body became very tense and still. He stared at a bucket by the corner of the entrance and watched the stars reflect on the surface of the murky water.

The Priestess tilted her head. "Give them to me," she said. "Or I'll slit your throat."

"I'm not afraid of you," he replied.

"Then give me your hand," she pressed.

"I know how people like you work," he said.

"If that were true, you'd give me your goddamn hand."

He stared up at her crystalline eyes. "I'm sorry your life has been so terrible that you have to make other people suffer to feel better," he said.

"Me too," said the Priestess. "Your hand, boy. Last chance before you regret it."

Holden watched the pool of water and felt his hands ache once more. But then! A pair of helmets in the water's reflection! His eyes traced up to a pairs of metal boots that approach the tavern. His face opened up from its scowl and he waved his scrawny arms wide.

"GUARDS!" He called to the lantern-lit figures. "GUARDS!"

The Priestess looked behind her, her long cloak billowing out with her quick movement. "Shit!" She turned back to her target and shoved a hand over the general area of his snapping mouth. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up--"

"Guards! Guards!" He struggled. "Come quickly! This lady's tryna kill me!" Holden's words were half muffled by the Priestess's efforts, but he was ultimately too squirmy to be silenced in any meaningful way. He saw the shining boots approach them with concern.

The Priestess heard the clanking metal and she let Holden free. She stood tall and faced them. Holden wrestled himself up from out of the hay and stood behind her as she spoke.

"Thank goodness you're here," she told the guards. The man and the woman stopped where they were and raised their eyebrows at the sight of the Priestess. The princess tugged off her dark hood, revealing hair that shimmered like embers in the torch light. Holden scrunched his brow. "I saw this man try to steal from the barkeep," she said, "so I apprehended him for you. You can take him to jail now."

The guard's faces were uncertain. Holden dashed out from behind her. "That's not true!" he said. "She was going to hurt me! I didn't steal anything," he punctuated, throwing the woman an angry glance.

"You stole my money," the Priestess said.

"You lost your money," Holden countered.

The guards looked to each other and nodded. They surrounded Holden, who flinched at their motion and tried to escape again. The guards chased the ducking man around the barn a few times before finally snagging him.

"You can't do this!" He said as the guards shackled his wrists behind his back. "I didn't do anything! That woman is a liar! Ask anyone inside!"

"I invite you to it," the Priestess agreed. "Anyone inside will tell you that he's a theif. I guarantee it," she said, a cruel smile on her lips. A bolt of fury went through Holden when he saw that, and his heart lit ablaze with hate.

Holden's chin tilted downwards and he stopped squirming. His next words came in a sincere and steady tone, and he met the princess's gleaming eye. "I'm going to tell them what you did," he said. "And when I do, you'll be the one in shackles. "

Sybil's hand came to her mouth, and she quieted her giggle. As the guards were set to leave with the wrongly-accused, the male guard turned to the princess.

"You should probably leave with us too, uh... madam," he said. "So you can tell us the full story."

The princess stared the guard down, hoping he'd break, but his orders had come from higher. She imagined stabbing all three of them under the breast plate, but reminded herself this was not their fault, but her parents'. "Fine," she said. "Fun's over anyways."

The four of them trekked through the still night, surrounded only by darkness, damp air, and the cry of a thousand crickets.

A/N: And that's the end of Chapter 3! If you liked it, please leave a vote and a comment! <3