Book One: The Marigold's Larkspur ~ A tale of mystery, magic, and obsession.

Chapter Thirty-one

They sat on the stairs for far too long, falling into easy familiar banter that soothed Cressida like nothing else.

It felt like home.

Eventually, though, the conversation waned, and a growing sense of dread once again filled her mind.

"...alright," Quail exhaled, becoming the first to disrupt the lingering silence, his voice now laden with gravity. "While I'd love to stay and catch up forever, our current surroundings aren't ideal, and there's a very volatile prince out there who would love to get his hands on any one of us."

"...probably not his hands." Cressida mumbled, a knot lacing its way through her insides.

Quail grimaced and reluctantly agreed, "Yes, probably not his hands. That seems to be reserved for, uh, extreme cases."

"And Her Highness," Cilla chimed in, raising an eyebrow.

This time, Cressida winced, and Quail muttered, "Not in the same context, Cilly. Although, yes, I'm certain that's true as well."

"Have either of you run into Callidus?" Cressida asked, feeling her heart skip just by saying his name.

Quail let out a strained laugh, "If I had, Princess, I'm sure it wouldn't be just my wrist that was broken."

Cilla's expression darkened, and Cressida looked at her expectantly. "Cilla?"

"I didn't run into him." She responded carefully. "But I overheard the guards discussing his orders. He stationed a full guard contingent specifically to watch over the prison cells where our people are held."

Quail sighed somberly, "Well, seems we know where not to go."

Cressida's heart sank, "He won't hurt them." she said tightly. "Callidus won't hurt them."

Quail and Cilla both stared at her, and then exchanged a skeptical glance.

Cilla took a deep breath, and opened her mouth, but Quail cut her off, "...well, sometimes it's good to have an optimist."

Cressida's conviction wavered as she saw their doubtful expressions. "I'm not being an optimist." She retorted. "If I'm not there, Callidus won't hurt them."

"So, he'll hurt them if you are there?" Cilla clarified, raising both eyebrows.

"He needs a reason." Cressida doubled down. "Callidus doesn't hurt people without reason."

"Birdie," Quail sighed. "I actually agree with you. But unfortunately I think his reason is you. And now that you've managed to escape, what we're about to see is a man who has lost all reason."

Cressida felt a chill at Quail's double meaning.

Cilla glanced at Quail, frowning. "That man's actions are his own. He would have killed his father regardless of whether Her Highness were in Ashlar or not. He's vengeful, power hungry, manipulative-"

Quail interrupted her, "Yes, that's true. His actions aren't solely motivated by our Birdie's presence. But her absence might just push him over the edge."

Cressida's heart raced as the weight of their words sank in. "...should I just crawl back into the Sapphire Suite, then?" she muttered. "And marry him like the queen wants?"

"No!" "Of course not, Birdie."

Cressida shut her eyes tight. "Then I need to believe our people will be alright." She whispered. "I need to. I need to believe he won't hurt them. Otherwise, I don't know what I'll do."

There was a bit more silence, where she was certain another glance was shared between the two of them, before Quail spoke up. "Alright, Princess. I understand." She then heard him softly groan, "And speaking of standing."