Patrick wasn't sure how long his freedom was going to last. As he followed the red head named Alan down a long tunnel, he couldn't help but admire how Astoria had once again risked her life for him. He also couldn't help but think this very well could be a trap.
"Who's meeting us?" he asked, desperate for some type of information.
"I don't know. It could be anyone. Sorry I can't tell you more, but we have to keep communication short with them."
"Right," Patrick replied.
Alan stopped for a moment and looked at him. "I know you don't trust any of us, but trust Ria, okay?"
"Ria? That's what you all call her?"
Alan smiled. "That's just me. We've all got our nicknames for her. After all, someone practically made her name taboo."
"That would've been me," Patrick muttered. "It was too dangerous to mention her by the time she was born."
Nodding, Alan continued walking.
"Tell me about her, please?"
"Tell you what exactly?"
"Everything."
They walked in silence for a few moments before Alan let the mental debate end. "Ria should tell you most of it, but I know you're dying for something. And who knows how long it'll be before you see each other again.
"She was the happiest baby. Barely cried, always took her naps, never gave us any problems. She seemed to know Gabe and Taylor weren't her parents—she's probably been eavesdropping since she could crawl—but she treated them like they were. Milo is her best friend; Copeland is her nightmare." Alan smiled at a faint memory of the two young girls bickering in their bedroom. "Everyone loves her. Everyone respects her. Everyone knows she's going to make a fantastic queen."
"I was terrified about that," Patrick admitted. "From the minute I knew I was expecting I knew what she'd be born into, what she'd become. I didn't want that for her; the world was too unstable for her to be safe."
"She's more that safe now," Alan promised. "Anyone of our friends would die to keep her safe."
"You'll never know how much that means to me."
Alan didn't reply. Instead he guided Patrick through the last bit of the abandoned passageway and knocked on an warping door with precise and planned knocks.
It swung open and Alan slid inside, Patrick right behind him.
A single light illuminated the dark space, casting flickering shadows along the faces of those in the room.
A tall man Patrick didn't know took up most of the room. Alan had thrown his arms around the man, so Patrick assumed they were together. There were a few others he didn't know, but the one he did had pulled him into a tight hug before he could fully register what was going on.
"I can't believe you're really here. Pete told us and I didn't want to get my hopes up because what if he was just going crazy with grief, but you're alive and here."
"Yes, Brendon, I'm alive," Patrick promised as he returned the hug.
"Good. Now let's get you out of here."
*
It would take until morning for news of Patrick's escape to reach the king, and Astoria had no idea what was currently happening. Alan had told her to not worry about it, after all she couldn't be associated with Patrick's escape.
Of course she'd be suspected with all the time she'd spent with Patrick, but she hadn't done anything to cause suspicion. She hadn't even been part of the planning. There was nothing they could get out of her.
"My Lady?"
Astoria looked up to see that Alex had entered the room. It was late in the evening, so why was he here? They agreed the less contact the better.
"Yes?"
"The king requests your presence immediately."
Horror filled her mind as she wondered if the worst had happened.
"Okay," she replied and found a pair of slippers she'd never bothered to wear before. Snatching a robe off the back of her door, she followed Alex out of the room while attempting to cover up her less than presentable attire. She was planning on going to bed, but she hadn't been able to.
Alex's expression gave nothing away as they walked. She refrained from looking over at him despite her overwhelming desire. People were always watching.
The less than intimidating meeting room was not where Astoria had been expected for this meeting to happen. She expected the throne room with everyone in the royal court present. She expected over exaggerated proceedings and interrogations. She expected a well publicised execution like Bronx.
Everyone who had been in the room went silent when she entered. They appeared to have still been in the midst of a meeting, all dressed impeccably in the presence of the king. Astoria heard of the ladies snort in disgust at her attire.
What the hell was going on?
"You sent for me, your Majesty?" she timidly asked.
"It seems you were at the meeting the other day with Lord Nathan Harrison and his family the Lady Emelie and their daughter Lady Cassandra," the king said as he gestured to the man who had said those terrible things about her a few days ago.
"I'm terribly sorry about that. I hadn't planned on attending." Astoria stopped as the king raised his hand to silence her.
"Nonsense. You had every right to be there. I should have ensured you would have been there. You are the future queen of this country after all." The king pointedly looked at Lord Nathan. "And I believe the noble House of Harrison has something to say."
And Astoria, clad in her pyjamas, watched as the three shamed members of the royal court stood up and made their way to her, dress in their finest of clothes.
They bowed, apologised, and Lord Nathan presented her with a glistening necklace that was laden with precious jewels.
The three left and slowly the others did too.
"Forgive me for taking so long to solve the matter," the king said on his way out.
"It's perfectly alright, your Majesty."
He smiled at her and left her standing there with an apology and a necklace she didn't want.
There was only one good thing that had come out of the ordeal: Patrick was safe.
