A Tale of Crown and Country

Lea

Lea had never seen this side of Regros. The underbelly of the city, the dark corners of alleyways. It was more distinct than in Aldira, where all areas of the city blended together until you weren't even aware that there had been a transition.

    Morto Domev and his men set up in a small inn at the edge of town. It was an area of the city he knew well and she'd never known existed. Apparently the bandits were well known here because the small woman who owned the inn gave it over entirely to them. She and the other patrons of the small establishment made way for the dominating bandits. Morto placed a few coins into the woman's hand as payment, but otherwise there was no interaction between them. Everyone made way for these men, and it did nothing to help Lea's growing apprehension. She'd resolved to stay strong, to fight these men with her resilience–it would be practice for the impending confrontation with her father. But as she saw others reactions to them, she couldn't help but falter. Sure they hadn't maimed, killed, or otherwise harmed Arlan, and they hadn't seemed to want to condemn him to life imprisonment, but they were still bad people: and Morto was the worst of them all. How could he do anything for the right price? How could he disregard morals for money? As far as she could tell, though he wasn't a murderer by far, he was a terrible person. Maybe that was the point. Maybe time around Morto Domev would lend her more easily to her father when she saw him again. Lea hoped not: that would be cruel and manipulative. Then again, King Crolimus was exactly those things.

    Veirin pushed her into a small room and slammed the door shut without a word. She heard shuffling outside, a few voices here and there. Someone was standing outside her door, keeping watch and standing guard. For her protection or her imprisonment was for anyone to decide.

    "I'll just stay here than," she muttered to no one.

    Lea went and sat on the bed. It was softer than the ground, but only just barely. The room was small and meagerly outfitted; a bed, a chair, a window. Wooden beams presented themselves in the corners of the room where the hardened clay exterior of the building had disintegrated. Further south than Aldira, the effects of the growing intensity of the sun was evident in everything from the people to the buildings to the air. Though protected from the straight glare of the sun, hot air filtered in from the open window. No breeze fluttered in the window, but if it did Lea was sure it would be hot and unpleasant. She'd been to Regros before, but had stayed in the cool chambers of the local duke. She couldn't imagine anyone living so far south all the time, and so far from the ocean. Though she hardly went down to the seashore, or the docks for that matter, she was comforted knowing the vast expanse of salt water was nearby, waiting.

    Lea stood up and walked the perimeter of the room. It didn't take long. She arrived at the open window. Sweeping dirt and dust off the sill, she leaned on it and stared out at the nonexistent view. She'd never noticed it before, but every city she'd been to had a fortified stone wall surrounding it. Her little prison had a lovely view of a veritable wall of crumbling rock. Apparently no one cared enough to repair it. Not that it really mattered; there hadn't been a war in.. well, she wasn't sure. Not in her lifetime anyways. In her opinion the walls should really just be torn down. They weren't doing anyone any favours. Except the wall at Aldira. That one she was fond of. It gave the city a superior, militaristic, and outstanding feel. Like it was special and independent; like it was a particular mark on the face of the country. It stood alone in its reputation and resistance. Aldira was its own city. Regros was like any other fortified city in Allriya. It wasn't remarkably special. It didn't hold any sort of power over her. That might have been because it was now tainted with a negative memory, but Lea decided she wasn't keen on returning here anytime soon. That is, if her father left her out of his sight ever again.

    She hadn't admitted it to anyone yet, but she knew from Morto's flippant words that her father said she'd been kidnapped, but knew that she'd run away. He knew the reason, but he probably had never guessed she'd act on it. Lea hadn't been too cryptic with her opinions of the Jayakan prince she was supposed to marry. At least she'd gotten to see what he looked like. He'd sent her an overtly large framed painting of himself. King Crolimus preferred to keep his daughter a mystery to keep the prince at the end of a long rope and make him even more anxious to come to Aldira. Lea thought it was kind of sick the way her father manipulated the Jayaki prince, but she lessened her criticism when she heard how ridiculous he was.

    Lea leaned over the edge of the sill and looked down at the street below. A group of small children ran by, chasing one another. The distant sounds of carts rumbling and people conversing echoed down the narrow passage that separated the inn from the outer wall. Regros was more of a fortress than a city, and the streets showed it. Maybe she had a negative lens to look at the city through, but Lea wasn't keen on getting to know the rest of her environs.

    "Don't be getting any ideas," a voice said from behind her.

    Lea turned abruptly to face Morto Domev, who had somehow entered the room without making a noise. Either that or she'd been too distracted by her own thoughts to hear him.

    "That drop would really hurt," he commented, coming closer to the window. He looked out over the edge of the opening. Lea looked down as well.

    He was right. More than the three storey drop from the window sill to the ground there were a multitude of problems in the way. Number one was a rather nasty looking pile of crates that looked as though one inch of force would shatter them, and at least some of the splinters would end up in your legs. There was also an abundance of discarded pottery lying about the street, and who knew what else occupied some of the clearly full crates. Altogether is was not an ideal escape route. Not that escaping had really been on Lea's mind, but now it sat front and centre, and she couldn't shake the idea.

    "You're not what I expected," Morto said. "You're..."

    "Not a delicate flower?" she teased.

    "You could say that." He wandered back over to the door. Lea remained where she was. He could come and go as he pleased, but she wasn't going to follow. "You're much more of a problem than I'd anticipated," he mused.

    "Should I take that as a compliment?"

    Morto didn't answer her rhetorical question. "As of tomorrow you're the king's problem." He slid out of the door almost as quietly as he'd entered, leaving Lea once again alone in the room.

    She returned to the window and looked down at the pile of rubble serving as anti-cushion. No way was she going to be able to jump, but neither was she inclined to be pushed around by some lowlife bandit. She looked to either side of the opening. There wasn't enough space for her to climb down either. She cursed to the sleek sides of the building and went to flop onto the bed. If she came up with a plan of escape, it would have to be before night fell. Lea assumed someone would bring her dinner of some sort. After that she'd be left alone for the night. So if she did escape, it would have to be then. She didn't know what she'd do if she succeeded, but it certainly didn't involve seeing her father again. That is, if she even managed to get out of this cubic room.