𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

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     Running with the small group around the palace to try and find Adrian along with tasking a couple of the guards to go out and search for Seraph and Delana to ensure their safety, (Y/N) explained all that she could to Basile. His expression of neutrality never changed. Even when telling him about how Adrian had been wounded and who had inflicted it, he never once flinched.

"I see," was the only thing Basile responded with as he pondered over what their next course of action would be, his eyes darkening. "Where were you and His Highness attacked?"

"His bedroom," she answered, flicking her (E/C) gaze around in hopes of not seeing an enemy her group cautiously advanced forward. "I was standing guard outside when he called me in to go and fetch him some food. After I had received the order and was leaving, Aadon and the others were already stationed outside."

The lies rolled smoothly off her tongue.

How could she tell the truth?

Basile would never believe the truth, nor would he ever believe her again for anything.

"That... must have been difficult for you, (M/N)," Zaahir sighed as he sat down, resting his back against the wall and stretching his legs in front of him so he could prop his elbows up, his hands dangling in the space between. "Seeing Aadon and like that... man, we trusted them..." His face scrunched up in disbelief at just the mere thought, his mind flashing back to Dañero's death before murmuring out softly, "And what you and Dañero said, (M/N), about Claude? Is it true? Was he... also a part of Chalar's army?"

    "Yes..." (Y/N) nodded solemnly. "He was."

    Letting his head thump the concrete, Zaahir squeezed his eyes shut, mentally cursing himself for being the fool that could not see their betrayal so clearly. Then again, he was too blinded by friendship and flattery to do so. (Y/N) immediately knelt down to rest a hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner, wishing there was something she could say to alleviate his pain yet knowing that no words were enough for a moment like this.

    "How did he die?" Zaahir finally mumbled out, his green eyes glassy and distant.

    "He slip—" (Y/N) was about to say before cutting herself off, inhaling sharply when her mind threw her back to when Aadon had first shown up in front of Adrian's bedroom and the conversation between the two before Aadon attacked. "No... that's not true. Claude was killed... by His Highness. It was made to look like an accident."

    "Why would His Highness do that instead of just announcing Claude as a traitor?" Zaahir furrowed his brows, puzzled.

    "I don't know..." she shook her head, placing the pads of her fingers against her forehead as she thought of the confounding case. "No... it's because he didn't know Claude was a traitor at the time. There was a different reason."

    "What?" Zaahir's eyes widened.

    "I know it's far fetched, but it's the only plausible explanation," she sighed, her lips thinning. "We can't focus on that right now, though. We need to find the Royal Family, make sure they're safe, and then assist His Highness in whatever ways we can to stave off this attack. It seems likely that Queen Jannali is coming here... with an army."

    "Wait!" A servant spoke up at her statement. "She's coming... here!?"

    "Yes," she nodded. "At least... that's what Danny informed me of."

    "How can we trust his words?"

    "Well... even if they are false and only were said to provoke fear within us, wouldn't it be more beneficial to prepare for attacks of any kind so that when they do happen—which I'm sure they will considering Queen Jannali's character—we'll be ready?" (Y/N) theorized with a wry, tired smile, having already heard countless stories of Jannali's barbaric ways.

    "(L/N) is right," Basile nodded in agreement. "Queen Jannali is no fool. She won't miss this opportunity to strike while we're weak."

    "But, how will we even know when she's coming?" A different servant question, an older man with deep cuts lining his dark skin. "That's—"

    A large bang cut him off, the sound reverberating through the air and ground and making all have to cover their ears and brace themselves. Upon looking up, a large cloud of smoke could be seen wafting upward into the night air from the opposite side of the palace—the one that was still being rebuilt and was their weakest point. Without another word, Basile took off running that way, shouts and questions following after him as the group looked on in confusion.

     "What... was that?" Zaahir exclaimed, his grip on his sword tightening.

    "That, I'm guessing, was Queen Jannali and her army," (Y/N) clarified, her voice wavering, however she tried to stay strong as she turned back to the group. "Okay, we need to split up. In a big group like this, we're sure to be targeted, and splitting up will be more efficient so that was can scope out the enemies attacks and weaknesses. Is everyone in agreement?"

    A chorus of yes's and nods followed.

     "Okay, I'm thinking that me, Zaahir, and you, you, and you will split off the Eastern palace where the most damage is," (Y/N) started as she pointed to a few of the men who stepped forward. "The rest of you will head to the Western side and do damage control and evacuations."

    Everyone concurred.

    However, as (Y/N) stepped forward Zaahir placed a hand on her shoulder to tug her back.

     "(M/N), are you okay?" He asked with clear worry brimming in his gaze as his grip on her tightened. "You're hurt! Look!"

    Glancing down to where he was pointing, (Y/N) groaned in displeasure when seeing that running had reopened her wounds and had made them start to bleed again, staining the white bandages through along with her shirt. Placing her hand against her side, she greet her teeth and steeled her nerves. She couldn't die like this, nor would she allow herself to die like this.

    Ah, shit.

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