Betrothed

Chapter Thirty-Five: Jail Break

"Prison conditions are, at best, deplorable," Drake answered. He then handed her his torch. "Go ahead and take this with you." Audrianna quietly slipped into the prison cell, and waved the torch around to shift the light throughout the room. She spotted the three Ladies huddled in the corner. Their heads were lowered, and their faces were covered with their dirty matted hair. The dresses they wore were the same they had on the night of the invasion, only dingy and tattered.

"Rose?" the princess called out. "Cassie? Ethel? Are you ladies okay?"

Rozelle lifted her head when she heard the princess's voice. The other two ladies also turned their heads towards the light.

"Your Highness?" Rozelle responded. "Your Highness, is that truly you?" All three Ladies attempted to stand out of respect to the princess. Rozelle made it to her feet, while Castalia and Ethlyn fell back to a seated position. Their legs had become dependent from weeks of inactivity in the small, dark prison cell.

"Yes, it's me," Audrianna assured her three ladies.

"Oh, Your Highness," Rozelle excitedly replied. "We were told you we're dead. We had lost all hope."

"Who told you I was dead," the princess asked, helping the two ladies to their feet, one at a time.

"The Witch," Castalia announced.

"Yeah, and that horrible witchette she toted with her," Ethlyn added.

"Witchette?" Audrianna asked.

"An ugly little Andjety girl, around Your Highness's age," Rozelle remarked. "The witch claims the little girl has been coronated as the new crowned princess."

"That would only be possible if the king himself crowned her," Audrianna replied.

"He has," Ethlyn stated.

"Has what?" Audrianna asked.

"The king," Ethlyn answered. "The king did coronate the little girl as the new crowned princess."

"You mean, the impostor king?" the princess asked.

"There is no impostor king," Castalia answered. "Only King Malcolm. The very king that coronated you."

"What are you saying?" Audrianna asked Castalia, lowering the torch down to her side.

As Zymjai and Henry stood inches from each other, with only the bars of the incarcerated Special Forces separating them, and Rolf standing on the other side of the giant cage, a third figure walked into the circle of light. Everyone turned their heads to look at the man that stood before them. Indeed. It was King Malcolm after all. Not an impostor. Not a ghost. Malcolm in the flesh.

"What?" Henry asked, shocked by what he saw. Shocked by who he saw, standing in front of them all.

"Father," Henry responded. "You are alive?"

"Yes, my son," Malcolm answered. "Of course I'm alive. Why would you think any different? Where have you been? I've been worried about you since you kidnapped the princess and ran away."

Everyone turned to look at Henry.

"I didn't kidnap the princess," Henry replied. "The princess and I escaped the Andjety invasion. The Witch was about to kill the two of us. Rupp and the three Ladies in Waiting to the princess helped us escape before Zymjai got a hold of us."

"No, my son," Malcolm replied. "That is not what happened." All the men of the special forces began to look at each other with confusion. Had they just attacked the castle without actual provocation? Were they now traitors to the crown for going against the king, thinking that they were avenging the blood of their fallen monarch? What was going to happen to them?