Luminous

119 - Imprisoned (3/3)

Silence clung tight until the corner of King Alden's cloak vanished around the bend of the stairwell, then Coris spoke,

"Flawless, Father. And you, Mother."

Meya spun around. Coris was smiling, his same old conniving grin when all went according to plan. Not a minim of the prior melodrama lingered. Baron Kellis, in contrast, remained tense.

"We bought five days. In exchange for an easy escape," he frowned. Coris tilted his head, undaunted.

"You must've missed it, Father. He said I'll be warm and well-fed." He raised his eyebrows, silvery eyes glinting. "That means plenty of firewood, and a dozen meals at least Gillian will deliver to me. They'll also clean and refurnish the room to welcome me. Plenty of movement he can track."

Coris topped it off with a shrug. Baron Kellis shook his head, chuckling. Whereas Baroness Sylvia glowered in equal parts exasperation and affection at her cocky son. 

The scheme unveiled to Meya then, and the clenched claws of fear over her heart unwound. Coris hadn't meant to undergo surgery. He simply wormed himself into the king's good graces, buying five more days of head start for Zier, and a more comfortable prison for himself while he waited. Then, when the king's guard was at its lowest, Gillian would break him out. 

The plan hadn't changed. One way or another, this would be their last day together. This would be the last she ever saw of him in a long, long time. Or in this life. And his nonchalance insulted her.

His parents reassured, he finally turned to her. His eyes were no longer empty, but filled with longing.

"Meya," he called. Meya raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, now you remember me," she spited. Coris pouted petulantly.

"Come now. You know why I must act such."

She did, so she crept forth as far as the bars would allow. He drew her in with his hand on the back of her head, kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, then took her lips between his. The bars burned on her cheeks as he bore down like waves chained, sucking all the air out of her to last him for the long voyage ahead. He set her free, yet he clung to her arm, and his fingers trailed down the curve of her face.

"I reckon this is farewell," he whispered, his voice choked with tears. Meya shook her head, pleading,

"Lexi, please. There must be another way." She truly meant it, this time, but Coris closed his eyes against the light, blowing it out with a sigh of despair.

"Meya, we've been through this." He surfaced with a frown, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her lightly. "Have you met Graye? What did he offer?" 

Meya avoided his eyes, her heart pounding. Graye's voice whispered at her ear like Chione's temptation.

"Nothing important," she muttered. The furrow between Coris's eyebrows deepened.

"I'll be the judge of that."

There was no wriggling out of it. Meya wished she'd be bursting to share the news with him with a laugh of derision, wished she could mock Graye's foolish, misguided attempt at humoring her, his sheer audacity, but she couldn't. Her cheeks burned with shame, but should she be ashamed? Shouldn't she be more ashamed she'd left her parents behind to suffer in poverty, when all this time, she could've asked for so much more?

A sardonic smile twisted her trembling lips. She raised her face and met his moonbeam gray.

"He offers for me to be Baroness Graye," she said blandly. Coris blinked, eyes wide. "He'll bring back Mum's Song, give Dad a golden palanquin, freeman permits for all me brothers and sisters. So I can help Greeneyes without worry."

Coris swallowed his lips. His hands trembled on her arms, and blood left his cheeks, leaving it bone-white as the day they met, months ago. Meya's smile widened.

"But you'll never give me those, won't you? You had all the time in the three lands to, and you haven't." She hung her head, staring at the bare stones. "You have your people to feed, too. They'll want golden carriages and servants, too. You can't just give to me, you'll have to give to all of us."

Silence reigned once her bitter laugh melted into air. Over and over, Coris shifted his grasp on her arms.

"Is Farmer Hild's hip paining him terribly?" He managed finally. Meya wiped her eyes, and he rushed to help her.

"He can barely walk without a cry. Mum's fetching a healer for him, but I dunno if there's anything we can do," Meya surfaced, tears streaming down her cheeks. His restraint blown, Coris tugged her into his arms. She sobbed against the side of his neck,

"He toiled so hard, Lexi. His bones must've worn to nothing. I dunno how long your jewels will last us. What with me and me babe. Myron's apprenticing. And Marin and Deke still need us. There'll only be Maro and Marcus bringing bread in. So many mouths to feed..."

Coris smoothed his hand down her back, struggling for words to console, scattered by the sound of boots clattering up the stairs. Meya was too drained to turn and see.

"They're coming," said Gillian, cold and clipped. Meya's heart lurched just as Coris's embrace tightened in fear. He drew her back, staring her straight in the eye.

"Do you still have our contract?" Meya blinked, then her fury boiled.

"What's that gotta do with—!"

"There's a clause. Your reward for services rendered," Coris cut across in a rush, rattling her for attention. "Once I'm gone, show it to Arinel. She'll know what to do. Should give you more time to settle matters, give Farmer Hild the rest he needs. Then you and Marin can serve in Crosset Castle to help out your brothers. You can be wet nurses, even."

Meya's anger calmed, but her woes remained. How long would it last? What difference would it make? She'd still be a poor peasant girl, with a child born out of wedlock, fathered by a fugitive on the run. Her whole family would still be peasants, would still be poor for the seventh generation running. There was hope of ending that, but not from Coris.

As if he'd read her mind, Coris bowed low, his sigh heavy.

"You're right. I can't match Graye's offer. I won't." He shook his head. 

"Hadrian's riches aren't mine. They belong to the people. I spend them in their place for their good. I take as my share only what I can justify. I can't give you a golden palanquin. What I can give is the fair chance to earn it. But if that's not enough, then perhaps...Hadrian isn't right for you."

He trailed away into a faint whisper, as if he'd only just realized what this meant, what it might entail, and he was powerless to prevent. Meya sank weak-kneed onto her haunches, staring in horror at his bowed head. He was accepting it so simply.

"Aren't you going to stop me?" she breathed. "I carry your child."

Coris shook his head, his whole self trembling.

"You're no fool, Meya." He raised his face at last, his voice weary. "He's using you to punish me. Once that's accomplished, he'll discard you like he did the twins. You know that."

You could've just said you love me! You could've begged me not to leave! You could've married me right here, right now! 

Lie to me. Vow you'll come back in time to see the babe. For once in your life, don't give me a choice! Chain me to you. Make me believe. Give me a shred of hope!

In her heart she screamed, as purple-clad guards arrived to join Gillian and pulled Coris from his cell. As he turned back for one last melancholic smile, one last look at her glowing green and red-gold dawn, before they shoved a black hood over his head. As they led him down the stairs by a leash tied to his bound fists, stumbling and blind.

And like so, he left her. Again. Her best friend, her beloved, her husband, the father of her babe, her Lexi. The tempest had left for sea.