Arcanum [WATTYS 2016]

PART THIRTEEN; 13

"Have a guard tell me when we're to address the King about the dungeon, and all that happened this morning. I'll be in my suite, sir." Miriabella's mood took a complete turn-a-round, changing from angry, to slightly despairing. She enforced guilt by no longer calling him by his name, but as her superior.

"Mi-"

"Good afternoon, sir." She turned around, hands reaching into her pockets. Miriabella's chest burned, feeling more alone than she ever was in Oceakaria. Nothing hurt unless you had it taken from you.

Kylo watched her walk away, gut twisting with guilt. He had half a mind to go after her, but there was nothing he could say. He wasn't about to take all of that back. Their relationship was strictly business, no room for friendship to be involved. Especially not with such high stakes. She could have easily used him to get close to the king, and then assassinated him. The kingdom would have been destroyed.

He looked down at his leg, sighing as his calf pulsed with pain after having stood still for so long. Deciding to retreat to his room to rebandage himself, he waited until Miriabella was out of sight before walking down the stairs to his own room.

The few hours felt long, but after she had inspected her stitches and showered up, Miriabella sat on the piano chair playing her fingers over each individual key. She had no idea how to play, but she had heard Harper play plenty of times. The freshest song to memory was the one that the girl had played the night Miriabella's house had lit on fire, before she was aware of it. It was a soothing song, soft-pitched and musical. She smiled at the memory. Clothed in nothing but underwear and a bra, wrapped up in a towel, she jumped at the sound of a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" She shouted. Drugen answered with her name, a loud shout in response.

"Shit, one second!" She chewed the inside of her lip, dropping her towel and rushing to the wardrobe. Inside, she pulled out another pair of black, tight fitting jeans, and a red t-shirt. She'd had all of the clothes in her wardrobe suited to her size while the princes, Kylo, and Verithiel had been gone. She slipped her feet into a pair of black flats and rushed back to the door, hair still tangled and wet.

"Hey," she said, opening the door up to reveal the awkward guard, scratching the back of his neck in wait.

"Hello, Miss Miriabella. The conference is about to begin in the ballroom, Kylo has asked me to be your escort." He said, offering a smile. She didn't return it, but took the gesture in kindness, heart dropping at Kylo's name.

Drugen walked her to a different ballroom from the one that she had been in during the night she was introduced to the kingdom.

This ballroom had a singular, large table in the center. The king sat at the head of the table, Ludwig on one side and Deghusk on the other. Four other guards, unrecognizable to Miriabella, sat around the rest of the table. Kylo was nowhere to be seen. She looked for him for a moment, then took a seat directly across from the king.

"We'll wait until he decides to show." The king spoke in a monotonous voice.

It was almost 15 minutes before Kylo emerged into the ballroom, hair wet and messy, appearing as though he had just woken up. He looked angry and tired at the same time. He didn't speak, though everyone had been expecting him to run in, apologizing. His seat was the last one open, farthest from Miriabella. He didn't dare make eye contact with her.

"Kind of you to join us," the king's voice was spiteful towards his guard, but Kylo didn't respond, just cast his indigo eyes up towards the larger man, who continued, "what is the cause of this meeting?"

"The attacks from Ayridge this morning, and discussion of the much needed destruction of the Nyremian dungeon." Ludwig spoke to his father in a clear, strong voice.

"What do you propose we do about Ayridge?" The king inquired.

"War. They attacked us without causation." Ludwig's voice turned bitter, but Miriabella quickly chimed in to attest, "You cannot put our people through that. Not now, at least. The devastation that Ayridge caused? So close to winter? There's no crop left. They don't know where their food is coming in from. They don't know where to sleep anymore. We can't put them through a war, things will only get worse."

"Who are you to decide what we do?" Ludwig snapped at her. All at once, the pent up anger waved over her.

"I am the one you paid the bounty of to do this. I know every aspect to a good strategy, and you're jumping in for your desire of revenge. You're not thinking before making such a drastic decision as to rush into war." Miriabella snarled. Kylo's eyes flickered to her, mouth parting slightly, before closing once more.

"Miss Miriabella, that is enough." The king's voice was a bit harsh.

"I support an attack." Deghusk's answer was followed by a shrug.

"All agreed?" The king asked. Several of them raised their hands, including Ludwig, Deghusk, and one of the unknown guards.

"All opposed?" Miriabella's hand shot in the air, along with the three remaining guards. Kylo's hand slowly moved to raise, and she remembered discussing her ideal with him less than 24 hours before, and having him agree.

"Then that matter is settled. There is no reason for a war just yet, Miss Miriabella is correct. Maybe further into the future, but our kingdom needs to regain its stability before we make any drastic moves. Now, onto the next subject. Why is the Nyremian dungeon coming into question now?" King Harold looked at Miriabella accusingly, but Kylo was the one to speak up, the first time all night.

"A small group of Ayridge enemies infiltrated the Nyremian dungeon this morning. As you know, there are rumors about the dungeon, all a bit harsh, but I think that all of us can speak to say that some of the rumors appeared to be..true." He spoke in an unpleasant tone, his voice not the sound that usually brought Miriabella comfort.

"What do you mean?"

"Someone has had a very bad encounter with a spirit or two." Kylo's response prompted a grave look from the king.

"It must be someone in this room. Who?" He demanded of his guard. Kylo's eyes cast over to Miriabella, slightly apologetic.

"What did you see?" The king snapped.

"I saw a book, and there were these hands grabbing me everywhere. I have bruises from them. Something kept telling me to tell them these secrets, but they didn't tell me what secrets they needed to know." Miriabella omitted the part about Sarevita, worried that it could possibly get her into even more trouble.

"Where are the bruises?" He inquired. She held her arms out flat against the crystalline table, showing her wrists to everyone there. Next, she tilted her chin up, revealing the two bruises on her throat. Now that she'd scrubbed the dirt and grime off of them, they were more prominent.

Kylo stared directly at her face, rather than the bruises like everyone else. When she caught his stare, they both blushed, Kylo worse than her. He didn't look away, though she did.

"So you're telling me that spirits in the Nyremian dungeon attacked you, and sent you visions?"

"In support of what she's saying, sir, I had to wake her up from her unconsciousness." Kylo interjected once more, not shifting his gaze yet. She gave a single nod.

"That is unbelievable, but we do have no use for the dungeon. I suppose if it is a weak point of the castle, we can dispose of it when our villages have regained their strength." He replied.

"What do we do about Ayridge, then?" Ludwig snapped, changing the subject. "We just let them get away with it?"

His father glared at him, eyes narrowing into slits as he said, loudly, "I will arrange to have a conference meeting with a few of my advisors, the King of Ayridge and his advisors."

This was when Kylo's eyes darted away from Miriabella, landing on the king. "Sir, I don't think that's a good idea." Worry was thick in his voice. "That could be when they strike you."

King Harold smirked, glancing at him, then Miriabella. "That's why I want my best guards watching my back." He spoke coyly.

"Me?" Miriabella's voice was incredulous. "I'm just supposed to help with war, I'm not a guard."

"You are now."

"Even so, there are plenty of people higher in rank and position that are better to fulfill the job."

"I paid off your bounty for a reason. You are both to guard me from a position on the balconies. There is to be a pat down of everyone that enters this room. This meeting should commence in two weeks, maximum, to give them time to arrive by boat. You're all dismissed."

Miriabella rose to her feet, not knowing what to feel. She looked at no one, thinking that the entire, short meeting had just been a waste of time.

She thought about Whitstead, and how she would be leaving not long after the king's conference with Ayridge. As she parted ways with the room, she thought about where to go, or what to do.

"Miri," Kylo called after her. Her hands clenched into fists.

"What?" She snapped, spinning around to face him.

He looked down at her, stopping in front of her. "Did you lie to me?" His voice grew angry.

"Lie to you?" She raised her eyebrow. "Don't accuse me of things."

"You told me that you saw Sarevita, which I didn't believe in the first place, and then conveniently didn't mention that to the king. Sounds a bit like lying to me." He stared down at her harshly.

"Because if you, someone I openly trusted with something that important, couldn't believe me, then why would a king?"

Kylo's hands were in his hair, dragging it backwards. One of the guards, who Kylo knew to be Marc, watched them for a moment, before dispersing down the hall as everyone else had.

Kylo had a smile on his face, but not a good one. It was more of an "I can't believe you" look. "God, I want to believe every word you say and I want to trust you but I can't, and even you know it's a bad idea."

"I'm not a liar. I'm everything but!" She threw her hands up in the air. "Whatever, Kylo. But if you're not going to ever trust me, don't talk to me anymore."

When Miriabella turned around once more, her stark white, now dry hair swished behind her. He watched after her, throat tightening. He'd lost his mother, and half of the village, and now he was alone, as he had been since the start.

Maybe Ludwig had been right, and Kylo had only trusted her because she had an attractive face, but he liked to believe it was deeper than that. She was so strange, with such an odd history, but he had forgotten that her off history consisted of murder. It wasn't as though his had been the cleanest, either, but hers was more violent.

Miriabella didn't dare look back at him, bitter tears welling in her eyes. She took a deep breath, breaking into a jog down the end of the hallway. Her chest ached with the discomforting feeling of being lost.