Martyred Soul

Chapter 8

            Wait… “Which side are you on?”

            Prince Simeon’s eyes spark. “No one’s—which is why I am making my own. I don’t want to be on my father’s side, and I don’t want to be on the Revolution’s side. I want a party who doesn’t care if they rule in the end or not. It’s all about the people.”

            I sit in a stunned silence.

            The Prince isn’t on the King’s side.

            How could it be? He’s part of the Royal Family. Next in line to the throne. But does he want the throne?

            No…he just said that he didn’t care about it, he just cares about the welfare of the people.

            I realize that earlier he had said, “our kingdom.” I originally thought that he meant the Royal Family’s, but did he actually mean “ours” as in “the peoples?”

            “Here’s my proposal: if you join my side, help me establish it, then I will evoke the little law that states that your life is basically mind until I say otherwise. You’ll be free. But if you don’t join me then you’ll still be under that law. You’ll be seen as the enemy.”

            I’ll be free. It’s so tempting. But…Saraya, the Rev. I built my whole life around them.

            How do I know which side is right?

            “You don’t have to answer me right now. If you decide to join me and gain your freedom, then come to my rooms tomorrow night. If you don’t come then I’ll know that you’d rather be a prisoner under Law 153 and on the Revolution’s side.”

            “What if I say that I’ll join you just for my freedom, but then run back to the Revolutions headquarters?”

            The Prince looked at me with a steady gaze. “The moment you run back to headquarters, I will know, and I will catch you.”

            Well, that answers one question.

            But the biggest question of all is, “How do I know that I can trust you?”

            “You don’t. And I don’t know if I can trust you. After all, you have tried to kill me before. But sometimes you have to forget everything else and just trust. I’m not asking you to trust the Prince. I’m asking you to trust Simeon Cataline.” With that, he stands up and walks out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

            His footsteps fade. And then, silence.

            And I don’t move, I don’t breathe, I don’t think.

***

            Somehow, I’ve made it back to my room.

            But I feel something rising in my chest, and it hurts. I start to think that something might actually be stuck there, blocking my breath. The feeling becomes more intense, on the brink of breaking my sternum.

            I do not occupy my room for long.

            I run through the hallways, winding my way to the ginormous courtyard. I continue pass the many small huts and to the training area where Peters watched Shae and Zirc spar.

            I jump over the wooden, splintering fence.

            I stop by his side, panting slightly. “Fight with me.”