The Earth's End

Chapter Seven

 AN: If you haven't been keeping up with the chapters, Terence is the knight Lacey is in love with who was mentioned in chapter six as having been jailed for slander.

Terence

Terence gritted his teeth, grinding them noisily together. His hands clenched in and out of fists, fingernails digging painfully into his own skin. Beads of tears filled his eyes, but he angrily shook them away.

He was a knight. And knights didn’t cry. Especially not when they were reduced to this already pitiful state.

I won’t cry. I won’t show my anger. If she sees that, she’ll execute me immediately…

Under his breath, he cursed the Queen. He cursed her for her flawless façade of kindness and compassion, the way she had so easily gained his trust and only used it against him. They both knew very well what she had been planning, what she had been whispering to the Princess and the Royal Guard Chief in her quarters when he had walked in. And that was the very reason he was here today.

He recalled her words with a shudder. Though it was only yesterday that he had been imprisoned, every passing minute felt like countless thousands of years.

But Natalie, my dearest, why end this war? As long as we are doing battle with a kingdom far weaker than us, our army will keep taking hostage after hostage—those people will be welcome, encouraged, to fight for us and help us to capture still more pawns. As long as this cycle is in effect, our army will keep growing, and we will keep growing stronger until Mockingbird has not an ounce of resolve left.

The Royal Guard Chief (he hadn’t even the grace to remember her name), a scarred, troubled-looking woman clad in red and white, had spoken then, voice calm and smooth like the spring wind.

Your Grace, please forgive me, but is it not sadistic of us to do battle in this way? We of the Kingdom of Azure have been known for our kindness, and ability to handle foreigners in this way. We are no simple-minded xenophobes. Isn’t there another way to finish this war?

And then the Queen had laughed. She had laughed, at her advisor, bodyguard and the one who oversaw protection of every last person in the massive capital city.

Ah, Amaranth, how naïve you are! You’ve hardly changed since you singlehandedly defeated all my guards that day. Was your past life in Lilywood so free of danger?

Amaranth had gasped quietly, before sucking in her breath and gritting her teeth and biting her lip until Terence had noticed a tiny droplet of blood. Perhaps something had happened, long ago, something so unspeakably awful she had forgotten it up to that very moment.

Your Grace, please do not make such— she had begun to growl.

And then the Queen had noticed him.

Her iridescent eyes locked onto him, set with gleaming sapphires and endless oceans and the starry evening sky. Those same eyes passed down through the royal family for generations, those eyes that the very kingdom itself was named for, had flared with utmost rage and loathing. “Baldric,” she had snarled, as the Princess and Amaranth turned around fearfully. “What a pleasant surprise.”

She had looked past him, into nothing in particular, and ordered: “Take him away.”

Guards had surrounded him in a fraction of a second, and now he was here, in this cold, dark cell filled with rats and menacing, sharp-edged torture devices stained with old blood. Gone were the luxuries of the City of Azure that he had once indulged in, as a knight lusted after by so many girls and women—and likely men, as well, though he didn’t like to think about that.