The Sea Siren

Chapter Forty-Two

Antony

Sunlight reflects through the iron bars, casting light onto the figure laid out on the cold ground.

Most of my night was sleepless, knowing that such a man was within my reach. Ceaselessly, I contemplated imaginable things, things no soldier could claim justice for.

Knowing what he did to her...

It has taken everything in my power to remind myself that this is not my vengeance to carry out.

The result of my fists taking to his face, coupled with what the kingsmen dealt, has kept him from consciousness. Each minute I stand guard here, the more his face bloats.

The depths of the palace groan, home to those awaiting sentencing.

Someone grunts beside me. I turn to find our steward waiting by the gate. "Highness, your horse is ready."

Sleeping prisoners stir restlessly at the disruption, most unaware of who is in their presence.

I don't want to take my eyes off of the bastard.

"Roth."

I hear the steward stomp to attention behind me. "Yes, Highness?"

"He is not to move from this spot, is that understood? If he starts to recover, I want him brought back down."

The initial silence I receive from him shows how much of a departure my actions are to my usual character. Perhaps I have been cast away too long with pirates, have taken in their ways too quickly because I hardly feel myself looking at his dilated features.

But he agrees. Despite knowing our policy of leniency on incapacitated prisoners, he agrees... because he must. "Ye-yes, I will let the guards know."

"He is not a good man," I say, in some effort to explain myself.

"I have heard the rumors. They circulate through court after last night."

"How has he been received?"

"You know how the elite are... If the horrors are not seen plainly from their eyes, there isn't much care for it. Many are concerned about the violence you inflicted."

I scoff, unable to help the dark laugh that escapes me. "Right. The bastard prince is more frightening than the trafficker. I can hardly be surprised."

"Those who are important know your true nature, Antony," he says quietly. "Your father, your brother. They are the only ones that matter."

I shake my head, unable to stomach the policies of the royals. Even being one, I am still, forever, an outsider. I stand with a heavy sigh, my bones groaning from a restless night of guarding.

"You have never judged me, Roth. Not openly."

"Nor privately, my prince." His chest puffs proudly. "I watched you grow, watched you become a man. A good one, at that."

I grab onto his shoulder, squeezing it. I glance into the cells, seeing the usual man and woman. Bounty hunters. Thieves. Pirates... The worst live within this dungeon.

Michel Cadieux fits right at home trapped by these walls.

"If he were to leave this cell... I want you to write to me. I don't care if my father releases him himself. You will tell me?"

He gives me a single nod, one I can trust and that gives me enough relief to leave my post, striding through the prison for the south exit where my horse waits.

The filth of the place clings to my garments, a certain reek of manure, sweat and blood.

I hear a man chanting faintly as I pass through, speaking in ragged breaths.