For Ransom

Chapter 22: A Compromise

Remus

Nights had grown incredibly difficult for the prince. It was when the doubt would creep in, burrowing into his mind like a parasite, when the memories clashed with reality. Sleep was a rare occurrence and when it did come, it came in short instances, riddled with nightmares and visions of the past. And the events of the day had given Remus a lot to think about.

"What is out there, mama?" He remembered asking his severe-eyed mother one rainy evening, back when she still came to visit his room and tuck him in before bed.

"Oh, savages. The worst of the worst. You know they eat each other, even their own children. There's a reason we cannot associate with them. Thankfully we have the walls to protect us from those brutes. The havoc they would bring to our mighty civilization. Now stop running that mind of yours. Just like your uncle. Do you remember what happened to Uncle Hashem?"

"He was fed to the sharks for suggesting to open the walls."

"Good. At least you can remember that. That kind of curiosity will get you killed, Remus. Be more like your brother. Now sleep, my child." Remus had not slept that night. He had crept to the observatory instead and watched the lightning in the distance, swearing he had made out the vague outlines of a capsizing ship.

Why would they lie to him? Or did they really believe the rest of the world to be like this?

The grotesque image of the woman on the street, the glaze that had swept through Elora's unsettling eyes as death possessed her tortured Remus' thoughts. Nausea overwhelmed him and he sat upright to try and alleviate the uncomfortable sensation.

"I suppose I even need you." He would never forget how Soraya had sounded in that moment, so passionate and so, undeniably human. She was just like him and his people, except one lived the privileged life of order and agriculture while the other had to survive the cruelty of anarchy and poverty. There were no savages, just people given no other choice but to make do with what the gods had forced upon them. Still, could people like her be trusted?

"We can change this world together." Yes, the world needed changing. It didn't take a pretty girl to convince him of that fact.

Was he making the right decision allying with her though? It was too late now; he was already knee-deep into whatever master plan Soraya had concocted whether he wanted to admit it or not. What would she do with his people if they managed to conquer Achaemenid? He supposed he would cross that bridge once he got there. For now, he would maintain the connection they had developed. He prayed it would be enough for her to be merciful to his people.

Remus sighed heavily. He could not let that woman's charm faze him, could not let it cloud his judgment or taint his conscience. Soraya was always one step ahead of everybody else, always seemed to have the puzzle pieces fall exactly where she wanted them to be, an observation he had noted many, many times in the time they had spent together. Remus laughed. He supposed he had been the only exception, the one error in her grand schemas. Yet, she had even managed to win him over, turning a failure into an advantage.

He pulled the blanket closer to him, the mattress groaning beneath him as he turned over for the hundredth time. The tiny beds on the Pearl were much less comfortable than the one Soraya had let him sleep on in her room and the autumn chill made him miss the warmth of another human. He recalled his first night, when Soraya had forced him to sleep bound to the chair while she passed out drunk. He had never seen a girl drunk. He had always thought they were a superior breed, never a hair out of place, a step out of line. Perhaps that was just the case for the royal family. His mother would condemn such behavior, but Remus had thoroughly enjoyed watching the captain lose her composure and prattle nonsense about how the ocean was squishy. It had been refreshing, a sight that he once would have believed to be utterly impossible. She truly was unlike anyone he had ever met. Then again, he hadn't met that many people in the first place.