The Vixen Trials

A Promise Made

Keilah

All too soon, they arrived at the gold tipped iron gate that protected the palace. When the guards heard they were from the House of Lavilyn, they were ushered in past huge white statues of the artic fox to a large wooden door depicting three foxes on a killing spree. This was flung open and she was finally inside the palace and given a spacious dressing room in which to prepare for her meeting with the Prince.

Here Trina showed her real worth, putting Keilah's hair up in an exiquisite yet simple hair design that drew attention to her bi-coloured eyes. Her riding clothes were exchanged for a flowing white gown that cinched tight at the waist and made her look two sizes smaller than usual. Trina applied a lavender scent to her wrists, fluffed out the dress and prounced her ready.

Fixing her hands on her gown in a way so that they didn't flutter free she followed her grandmother to the throne room, the thrumming in her ears and the excitement in her chest rising with every step. She was in the palace. She was going to meet the Prince. She came into the room, saw the two guilded thrones and the handsome Fox-face of the Prince, as handsome as she remembered – turning towards her, but her uncle was speaking, presenting the prince with the slaves, which he indicated his acceptance of with a bored face. Then her uncle offered him villages – my villages – Keilah thought angrily. He's just given them away.

But then her heart plunged for Dakkoul, his hands tied tight behind his back, was shoved before the Prince and made to kneel at his feet, while her gloating uncle said,
"And here he is, your grace, the Hattavah himself and the child that keeps him obedient".

For the first time, Keilah saw the girl Dakkoul so often referenced, and her breath caught in her throat. She was restrained from running to him by an older well-dressed Wayvolkan Lady. Tears flooded her little heart-shaped face.

"What's going on?" Keilah demanded.

"Welcome, my dear," her uncle said with a false smile. "The Hattavah is now the property of the Prince which is fitting."

The Prince. Dakkoul had said the Prince had warned him to flee and she had talked him into staying. But surely the Prince meant him no harm. They had spoken so civilly to each other last time they had met. Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as she feared.

"Keilah, my Vixen," the Prince said to her, extending his hand, which she took and kissed. A kiss like he had given her, sucking his skin to leave a mark. He reclaimed his hand with a smile.

"I do hope you win. What fun we shall have together."

"What will you do with the Hattavah?" she asked because she couldn't help herself.

"It's a shame he killed a Lord, so publically, so recently," the Prince said. "I'd thought to make him my Hattavah, but that made it impossible. The number of complaints I've had. It is time for the people to have their vengeance. Physically blows cleanse the soul, such is the way of the Fox."

"Wise is the way of the Fox," Keilah replied her heart clenched within her so tight she could scarcely breath. "What do you mean?"

"The people demand justice and I will give it to them. I will give them the Hattavah."

Dakkoul spoke up, "I am ready to suffer for my crimes, my Prince, but please, keep my child out of it. Let her go."

"The winter kit will not be harmed if you are obedient. When your punishment is ended, she will be returned to her Aunt."

"I will obey," he said, locking eyes with the Prince.

"You will be caged," the Prince said. "And one by one, all who have suffered loss at your hands, will have their chance to take their vengeance. If you so much as scratch them back in retaliation, your daughter will be scratched. If you hit them, she will be hit. They will punish you Hattavah and you will not fight back."

"I understand," he said in a broken voice. "I have a boon to ask of you."

The Prince shrugged. " You can ask," he drawled.

"Please don't make her watch. I swear I will not fight back."

The Prince considered for a long moment. "Very well. She will be kept close at hand in case you forget yourself, but she shall not watch. You behave and she won't be harmed. And as a token of my mercy, you may even say goodbye to her before you take your place in the cage."

​Dakkoul went to his daughter who threw her arms around his neck and wondered that his hands were tied and begged him to sing with her. 

​Any other time Keilah would have grimaced and made fun of the discordant tones that came from his mouth, a failed attempt at a soothing lullaby, but tears pricked her eyes.
​"He will die," she said to the Prince, hoping he would deny her words.

​"He deserves death," he replied. "This is the people's justice."

​"Do you want me to be Queen?" she asked.

​"I do," he said with a warmth that surprised her.

​"I will only compete if you give me a chance to save him," she said. "Otherwise I will drop my sword in the second round."

​His eyes hooded. "That would be disappointing."

The coldness in his voice iced her own. "I mean it."

The Prince's mouth twisted.  "Very well. While you fight, I'll give him a chance to live – no one will be allowed to use weapons on him. If you lose, they can do what they like to him. If you become Queen and he still lives, he can be my spousal gift to you, if so you request".

​It was the best she could do and yet it seemed not nearly enough. Malek took Tallie away and Dakkoul entered the cage. She came in after him before they could shut him in.

​"I'll fight for you," she whispered and told him all that the Prince said.

​He hunched on to the ground and put his arms around his legs, "I will die today Keilah. It's my daughter that matters. Don't risk your life for me. Drop the sword in the second round. Promise me."
​
She shook her head, held it high and walked away.