Barracks (War of Hearts)

47- Walls

"Sit!" Superior Jonathan's command echoes through the dimly lit chamber, and we comply—me trailing behind the others. The air thickens as the meeting begins. A hushed tension settles over the room; eyes fixate on me, dissecting my every move.

Stefani, her gaze sharp as a blade, breaks the silence. "We weren't expecting news of your survival amidst this disaster," she says, her voice steady. "An attack from within—exiles, rogues, heretics—closer than we dared imagine."

I shift my glare downward, feigning submission. But Stefani's concern is a mask, a fragile veneer. I won't be fooled. Maximillain, ever pragmatic, adds, "It was all part of the agreement, your life hangs perpetually in the balance. If you turn against your own to find the criminal in the palace, it is bound to happen."

The truth gnaws at my insides. I'd accepted the terms, but betrayal? That was never part of the pact. 

"Since you are here with us, did they ever say their purpose?" Lavyrle inquires, his eyes probing. I tread carefully, revealing only fragments of the truth. 

"To wield me against you," I confess. "As their leader's pawn, a pawn they'd march to Sauron. What they don't know is that all this is not true."

Of course, I think, this reeks of Stefani's schemes.

"A traitor within our walls has become true," another voice chimes in, anxiety etched across his face. "Sauron's shadow looms, and war awaits—even if not by his hand."

"Danger," the word hangs in the air like a blade poised to strike. "They killed a member before, kidnapped Prince Aldaire's partner, what else is expected? Barracks is falling apart and we have to do something."

 The council chamber quivers with tension, and Prince Aldaire—impatient, eyes ablaze—breaks the silence. "Hence the reason I request a trial tomorrow at the same hour. I've gathered witnesses and evidence and I think it is time to reveal some truth.," he declares, his gaze locking onto Superior Jonathan as if unraveling a secret.

My heart gallops, a wild stallion within my ribcage. I never signed up for this. What if Aldaire's evidence falters? The executioner's blade awaits, and I'm the sacrificial pawn. I implore him silently, but he's resolute, deaf to my silent pleas.

Lavyrle, the court viper, interjects. "Witnesses?" His voice drips amusement. "The ones who danced with flames last night?"

"Flames?" he echoes. "What happened?"

My pulse races. 

"Yesterday, we had another attack in the dungeons." Lavyrle drawls. "Prisoners turned to cinders. Miners, too." 

Poor Marissa. All of that for nothing.

Aldaire's face darkens. I know his thoughts—the missing pawns jeopardize our gambit. Without them, I'll stumble at tomorrow's trial. If they accept his evidence, it's my head on the chopping block. And he is the one dragged me into this today. He could have let me go somewhere, yet here I am.

Lavyrle and I's whispered threats, exchanged days ago, echo in my ears. His words, a haunting refrain. His words hold power and I know that this is a battle without end unless I use the papers Anastasia gave me.

My faith is now up to me.

Aldaire vanishes, a shadow slipping through the chamber's seams. Voices rise, a cacophony of confusion.

"Court adjourned!" Maximillian intones, trailing Aldaire's exit. Himley, her eyes wide with bewilderment, guides me to her sanctuary—a haven before the storm breaks.

"I apologize," Himley murmurs, her voice a fragile thread. "We believed they'd be safer here."

My head shakes, tired of the word "sorry." I can't bear it anymore.