For What is Bought in Blood

Old Friends

The drain in my washroom clanks to the floor, sealing off the tunnels. The noise could have easily been avoided, but I allowed the sound to echo through the tunnels instead. I can feel a distinct tremble in my limbs and I wring my fingers together. I feel as if I have not escaped death, only prolonged it. Exhaustion clouds my movements and vision like never before as I greet myself in the mirror.

Tear streaks divert the thick layer of ash around my eyes. In my blind panic I must've begun crying and completely ignored it until I reached some semblance of safety. The ash from my hair stains my neck and hood and I peel the sweaty cloak away. I'll have to beg Hollie to wash it again.

As if I summoned her directly, the beautiful blue eyed maid sweeps in and gently shuts the door behind herself. She turns to me, still standing in the bathing room, and gives me a crucial injury-check. Deciding I am well enough for a lashing, she quickly stuffs a wool blanket beneath the door to block sound from escaping.

"Hours late, Alula Harborough. Hours!" Hollie is rushing towards me, helping me discard my dark clothing for a nightgown. I can only nod at her frantic whispering and widened eyes.

"Where were you? Are you okay?" She takes my hands, an attempt to retain my attention and insist to know what delayed me. Terran only stalled me for a minute, but my deliberation with Wolf had taken much longer than I expected. Unlike most deals that occur under the cover of darkness or rain, Wolf insisted we meet inside a tavern where light and people are constant. It had been that realization that made me pause outside the alley door.

"Wolf had much to say," I sigh, her hands holding on so tightly it bordered on uncomfortable. "It went well, if Morelin can do his part." I motion with a tilt of my head towards my desk and she releases me, but seats herself on the edge of the table to peer over the letter.

A coded message hidden within a grief filled letter will ensure any prying eyes will still remain clueless. To write filled with such emotion would cause some nosy readers to stop reading abruptly, and keeping the message clues distributed apart widely will confuse anyone who doesn't understand the code. There is no one left in this castle or court who knows the code my father created.

"Do you truly think he can stand to buy The Darling Lake? With all he's already done?" Hollie scans the letter, squinting. She knows how to read enough to function, but not to understand every word written here.

"She would take nothing else. Or, if I am truthful, I was not in a decent enough position to argue," I add, shaking my head. "She will not accept our shipment without this olive branch."

Hollie clicks her tongue and crosses her arms, offended for me. It brings a smile to my face despite the rising exhaustion. As I seal the letter my smile fades, weariness reanimated by the image of Terran's face flashing behind my eyelids with every blink.

"I will take this to the messenger." Hollie plucks the letter out of my hands and tucks it within one of the many pockets on her beige dress. I stand, stretching my muscles that had locked from fear only a few minutes ago.

"Hollie, please don't use the tunnels," I mention as she reaches to remove the blanket from the floor. She turns back to me, brows scrunched.

"I never have," she tilts her head to me in question, but places her hands on her hips in a show of defiance. "Why?"

"Just... don't. It's gross down there." She snickers, and I move towards the door to see her out. She pulls the blanket to the side, and as I reach for the handle of the door, she grabs my hand.

"When things get worse, Allie," Her eyes are pleading, and I attempt to step back but she is holding onto my hand too tight. The desperation in her makes me so uncomfortable I try to free my hand once again, to no avail.

"You will have to lead. Wolf cannot be Queen. It should be you."

My mouth gapes open and I am utterly empty of words. I will be Queen when my mother passes or when she decides to step down. Sure, I had thought it would be me there once my father passed, but I could not overthrow my mother. My purpose behind this upheaval is to make my mother see the people she has ignored thus far- not take the throne for myself.

Scrambling for words to diffuse her statement, I stammer into, "Hollie."

She just smiles up at me. Is this what Morelin thinks to? That there will come day when I strike down my mother to take the throne? Rooted to the floor I watch Hollie, and her knowing smile, quietly depart.

The door clicked lightly shut. I launched forward and locked the door. Through my exhaustion I pressed my back to the door, feeling the world around me sit still. I heard no movement, no rustling of clothes. Gods, even if I wanted to be Queen, now I have a personal assassin to get through. I almost groan aloud as brown eyes creep into my conscious again. Terran held my mind like a snake, not striking to kill yet, but squeezing to capture.

I slide down the door, desperate to get off my feet. Brown eyes flash beneath my eyelids as I try to stay awake. The dimple in his cheek mocks me as I lose my battle with sleep and fall asleep against the door.