Chapter 32 - Fauna - Three Days Later

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The last two days have been rough, to say the least. Trying to move on with your life when you feel like another weight has been added onto your shoulders isn't easy, but it has been. Well, easier than last time.
I don't necessarily feel...better, but I don't feel as lost as I did when mom died. Is that normal? To nearly die from losing one parent, but only feel dented when the other goes? I know it's not, but something tells me Darius and his twelve idiots have something to do with it.
I meant what I said two nights ago. I trust him - however that happened. He's done nothing but be a friend when I thought a friend was the last thing I needed, and seeing as what happened to my last friend I'm not reassured at all by the fact that I now admit all of this. For Saints sake, Will was already hunting him before I even could fathom being Darius's friend, but now his worth just doubled all because of me. It plagues my thoughts every day now that Will quite literally just took another person I care for out of my life, and the first thing I did that same night was put Darius on the list of next up to murder to hurt me.
He's already proven that he can get people in and out of the castle without us knowing before they create chaos. Every time I don't have eyes on Darius I wait for the screams or the crashes or the cold prickle of death lingering nearby to take him away too. It's so anxiety riddling that my old tell of my thumb picking at the skin on my pointer finger has returned, and it's so Godsdamned noticeable that Kat has taken to slapping my hand whenever she notifies it. I'm pretty sure she thinks it's me being anxious about my father's funeral today
I swear one of these times my heart is going to give out from the relief I feel the second I do get my eyes back on his living form. It hits me like a ton of bricks, making my legs shake and lungs go limp from the quickened breaths they were previously taking. Then it's out into the castle to go do this or go do that and suddenly, even the shadows that I once took comfort and refuge in turn into betrayers and lurking killers. Every pair of eyes that slip our way is deceitful, every word spoken around us, and especially those not spoken are lies, and every heartbeat in the capital is a threat to his.
And still, despite the normal threat now turned into practically cosmic, he somehow ignores everything else just to try to cheer me up any chance he gets.
My life was like a pattern before. I'd wake up, find an assignment ready for me, carry it out, get some rest, maybe train, and then be back to step one. Now, I don't know what the day holds with him and his guard now all around me. I have a small idea about what may be coming, and yes, I'm clearly still keeping up my guard, but there's no telling. For once in my life, I finally feel like I can run free without being pulled down one path or the other by a rope, threats to our lives aside.
When I woke up the morning after my father died, it was strange to wake up with the sun in my eyes rather than a demented Darius. The sun marked mid-morning and I felt like I'd finally gotten a good night's sleep - not that one night does much after cycles of sleep deprivation, - and when I looked across from me I found that neither of us had shifted off of our sides. He was sound asleep, his dark hair falling over his face like a mask of his own. Even when his eyes were two different colors and his hands were on my neck, I could still see the kind yet sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Despite all the darkness within him, there's still an...elegance to it.
Gods books really do change you. Maybe I should lay off the romance, rhymes, and riddles section for a while.
Anyway, he hasn't had a nightmare since. We both fall asleep and wake up facing each other every night and every morning. It's oddly comforting, and entirely worrisome what my lack of uncomfortability could mean or bring about.
Yesterday was alright. Lance and I took a walk in the garden, the Queen and Darius a few steps in front of us. We spoke in hushed tones and kept it to a minimum so that no one would think we were trying to plan an assassination attempt on the royals. We didn't need to talk much though. We just wanted each other's company. Actually, thinking about it now, I think we just wanted to know that we were still alive. I know I did. Sometimes I shift into this other world and wonder if I'm really looking at it through my eyes, or if I'm dead and looking at it through another's. Seeing Lance alive helps me know that I still have something to fight for.
That and the fact that Darius keeps trying to scare or sneak attack me. He literally tried hiding under a couch and grabbing my ankle to try and scare me. It didn't work. I saw the glimmer of his expensively silver embroidered jacket the second I walked into the room.
Looking at him now, the sun still rising through the curtains, I'm thankful he's keeping me on my toes. When mom died, all I had was Mary's arms and the taste of salt from my tears to try and distract me. Now all I have to do is look away for one second, either memories of my father or sparks of anxiety of who or what could be nearby drawing my attention, and he's already moving to poke or pinch me. It's annoying, but it keeps me grounded.
This crazy motherfucker is somehow now my anchor to keep me from the storm within my own head.
The world is definitely ending.
His eyes flutter open, and I feel relieved when I find that they're the same color. I can't believe I'm saying this, but his blue eyes are the best thing in the world to wake up to. I hadn't realized this before, but his eyes kind of look like they have a small flame to them, tinged with a little gold near his iris. I'd say that's why he's always angry, but he's rarely angry. It's probably why I tolerate him. He's not like many people in Court I meet who always have anger in their eyes even when they smile.
"You have some explaining to do," I say when his eyes find mine.
He gives me a half-awake confused expression. I sigh and raise our conjoined hands between us. He looks at them as if they're a rare species and he's trying to determine if it's real, or just his imagination. It's honestly kind of funny until his stupid, stupid smirk tilts his face. "Are you trying to make a move on me, Clarice?" he croons, eyeing me sweetly. "Because if you are-"
"Oh for Saint's sake." I pull my hand from his and move to slide out of bed, but his hand snags my shoulder, keeping me in place.
"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily." He tries to scoot closer with that annoying gleam in his eyes. I slap my hand over his face and keep him firmly at arm's length. "Is this love I sense in you, Clarice?" he croons against my palm. I'm tempted to squeeze his nose and suffocate him.
"Love to crush your spleen, yes. How did you know?"
He removes my hand from his face with a gentle grasp on my wrist. "I feel it too. The force of love that guides you to me even in the darkest of moments."
"Bold choice of words for a shirtless man with a knife aimed at his gut."
"I don't have a-" He stops mid-sentence as I press the tip of the knife I keep hidden at my hip into his stomach. I keep it in a sheath so it isn't poking and cutting me as I sleep.
Slowly, he lets go of my shoulder and holds up his hands in surrender. Point me. I slip the knife back into its sheath and shift to rest on my back. Quicker than I anticipated, Darius grabs hold of my wrists and pins me down. I'm all too proud that he's learned from the last two times he's tried this to be mad.
"Didn't see that coming, did you?" he says with a big smile. It's goofy and absolutely ridiculous and stupid, and I find myself doing something dangerous and admiring it.
"Or did I?" His expression turns confused and I can't help myself. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
"But you haven't moved."
Before he can register what I meant, I lift my right knee and drive my heel into his thigh just as my elbow raises and hits the inside of his own . With his left side now unstable, I shove his right side up and he falls off the bed onto the ground. He's already moving to stand, but he makes the mistake of doing so with his back to me.
Please, like I'm not going to have some fun of my own.
Smiling, I jump off of the bed and right onto his back, my legs hooking around his waist, feet interlocking, and my arms going around his neck in a chokehold. I don't tighten my arms, knowing that he'll take his loss and surrender yet again.
"Lesson four," I remind him.
"Never turn your back to your opponent," he finishes with a dull voice. He hates that I keep winning. "Can you get off now?"
"Nope," I answer proudly releasing my headlock but still keeping my arms around him.
"And why not?"
"Are you hungry?"
"A little."
"Good."
"Why?" he questions slowly, trying to turn his head to look at me.
"Because you can carry me to the other room to eat."
"I-" My arms move back into a headlock and this time I give him a "loving" hug around his neck. "Alright, alright. Your face covered?"
"Yep." I finish pulling my "sleep mask" down my nose. After revealing my face to Darius, I had Kat find a plain mask that covered the top half of my face so that I could still eat without the hassle of the balaclava. I used to have to slide my hand beneath it to feed myself. Now I can eat like a normal person in the morning.
Smiling wider, I let go of his neck and he starts walking to the doors. This is both for my amusement and his embarrassment. I'll take whatever chance I get to make the Crown Prince do my bidding. As we - or rather he - opens the bedroom doors and walks toward the sitting room, I pointedly ignore Ethan and Alex who have the last shifts guarding the doors. They're likely holding in their laughs or simply already used to my random bullshit to be affected by it, but either way, I'm enjoying myself.
"Ah, Thomas," Darius practically shouts as we walk into the sitting room where both Thomas and Kat are finishing putting some tarts and fruit and creme-filled croissants on two plates. "Would you mind fetching some ointment from the Anevay? It seems I have a rather large growth coming in on my back."
"Seems bigger than just large, Prince." Thomas doesn't smile too often, but I like it when he does. He seems less like a stone statue. Even his humor is often told in more casual common conversation tones rather than lighter airy words clearly of the joking matter. It makes it hard to tell if he's being serious or sarcastic, and I'm not the only one who squints at him when it gets troublesome to differentiate the two. Everyone, it seems, is troubled by him.
"Actually, she's lighter than she looks." Darius stops right beside the table and starts doing squats to prove his point.
Prick.
"Are you calling me fat?"
"I said you were lighter than you look, not heavier."
"So then I just look fat?"
"Well..."
"Put me down," I order, pointing to the ground.
"Oh, I don't think so." His hands grip my hamstrings, keeping me from lowering my legs.
Watch it, boyo.
I'm about to put him in another headlock when he sits in his chair with me still on his back so that I'm now pinned between his back and the back of the chair. At least it's cushioned.
Squinting at him, I watch as he bites into a tart and makes a low moaning sound. "This is soooooooooo good. You want some?" He waves the bitten tart in front of my face.
"You know I'll still eat that right?"
"Who's stopping you?"
Snatching the tart from his hand, I sit back and enjoy the tart. He goes on to taunting and telling me how good the food is before handing me a plate of already bitten into food over his shoulder. I'm not kidding, he took a bite out of every single thing on my plate. Even the blueberries. I still eat it of course. I'm hungry, not picky. Though I can be a very picky eater when it comes to certain things. Like how my potatoes have to be peeled and mashed. I can't eat a potato with skin or when it's still the same shape as it was when they picked it from the ground. It's weird, I know.
After eating breakfast, Darius went to bathe and change while I stayed and talked to Kat and Alex. Ethan and Thomas went with Darius and I had to keep reminding myself that he had a guard with him who was fully armed to keep my drumming fingers barely noticeable.
The pouch my father told me to grab before leaving is still hidden. I know that I told Darius I would look at it two days ago, but I still can't look at it without seeing his body hanging on the wall. Darius was right - infuriating as that is. I want to know what it is, I just don't want to know what the note says.
Darius returns and I leave to bathe and change myself. Kat picked out a nice blue gown that ombrés into white at the bottom for today. The long sleeves are soft and tight-fitting, the bodice of it hugging my waist and then flawlessly falling to the ground. The front has a small plunge, but the back is...low. I can feel the morning air touching the near entirety of it, the open back ending about three inches from my low crack. I'm about to ask Kat what in the everloving ten hells she was thinking when she pulls out a thick royal blue coat over me with white fur lining the edges.
"What's this for?" I ask, running my fingers along the fabric. It feels as soft as it looks. Heavy too.
She twirls her finger and I turn around to let her lay the coat on my shoulders. "The Queen has asked to go into town, and she wants Darius with her."
"What?" I spin back around so fast that she flinches and nearly gets taken out by the coat herself. I'm too busy gawking to react to help her. Her glare says enough about how she feels about my lack of care if she fell on her ass because of me.
"They are the Queen's orders, Clare," she says, restoring the few small hairs that got staticky from the coat's fur. "Not even Darius can deny his mother."
I open my mouth to argue, but she's right. If the Queen wants something, then she gets it. Not to mention that if the Queen asked this, then she already got the whole "this is dangerous" shmeel from Lance. Probably already has a dozen safety measures in place with both the castle guards and the Jades too, if I know my brother at all. Heathens, he might even have the Jades watching from the roofs, windows, and grounds, all armed to the teeth beneath disguises no one will take notice of. Not when the royals are walking the streets. Which is the exact reason why it's a bad idea. The Jades may not be the only ones lurking in the shadows and in plain sight.
Biting my tongue, I let Kat clasp the coat and then do my hair. She makes two small braids from the front of my head that meet in the back, leaving the rest of my hair to fall down my waist. Sometimes I think she thinks of me as a doll whose hair she plays with all the time. I don't entirely mind. I mean who wouldn't mind being plumped and primped? Not me.
Walking to Darius who's playing some sort of ninja game with Alex, Ethan, and Mal who must've come in while I was looking fabulous, I let them finish before smothering them with warnings and tips on how to expect the unexpected. Garrison and the others came in just as Darius lost his footing and fell off the top of the couch. He demanded to know why I wasn't watching Darius more carefully, and I simply said that a child learns not to do something by doing it and getting it wrong. To which Darius argued that he was not a child. He then proceeded to throw a tantrum with Alex, Ethan, & Mal over who technically won.
I see now why Siscilla won't let The Dozen in the Healer's Tower all at once. The chaos they'd create would topple the whole thing into ruins.
An hour later, we're walking down the halls and out to the dirt road, where the Queen and Lance are waiting in an open-top carriage.
Way to go Lance. You're giving anyone and everyone a clear view and shooting path directly at the Queen's head and heart.
There are already about four dozen guards, some on horseback, others on foot surrounding the carriage, but they're not going to see the damn arrow until it's lodged in her skull.
Must I do everything?
We walk up beside the carriage and I can't stop the burst of laughter that escapes me. Knowing that it's completely inappropriate to be laughing, I slap my hand over my mouth and look away from Lance before I throw a laughing fit. Lance is dressed in a castle guard's armor, and his face is absolutely priceless. I've said time and time again that the guard's metal is bulky where it doesn't need to be, and simply just outright hilariously sculpted. Especially when seeing Lance's "Kill me now" face to go along with it.
"What's so funny?" Darius asks.
I shake my head keeping my hand over my mouth. I wait a second trying to get enough control of my vocal cords to greet the Queen.
"Good morning, Your Majesty." That didn't sound strained at all.
Her brows pinch for only a second before she gives me a warm smile. "Good morning, Lily. I'm glad to see you're in a good mood."
"Better than ever, my Queen."
Not being able to resist, I look to Lance who is still waiting for that arrow in his heart, and snort. Yes - I SNORT! My hands fly back to my mouth but do little to muffle the sound. I've grown up seeing Lance in all kinds of awkward situations, but this...this is by far the worst. I mean his chest looks like he's constantly puffing it out like a frigatebird. Then again, he does do that, just not with so much bulk. My brother is fit and lean and nicely sculpted, not broad and big-chested as most guards stand.
Still, this is never going away. It's embedded in my mind now.
"I think Lily and I will walk for a while, Mother."
"What?" Both the Queen and I say in unison.
"We'll be alright. Won't we, Waterlily?" He gives my hand a tight squeeze and all I can do is nod and keep my mouth shut. It's like sitting in a quiet room full of people, and then you remember something funny that makes your eyes water with the effort of trying to not laugh out loud.
"Very well," Queen Clarita agrees. She gives me a worried look as Darius tugs me down the dirt road, The Dozen creating another layer of protection between us and the castle guards.
"You're impossible," Darius relishes.
"Impossibly attractive," I correct. "I know." I see him look at me out of the corner of my eye, and I can't wipe this smile off my face.
"Try to be pleasant," he begs. "The people don't take kindly to arrogant and smart-assed women."
"That's because they've never met a wealthy lady with some tude. I can fix that you know."
"Please don't."
I hear myself laugh again. I feel lighter than I have in cycles, and yet I'll be back to normal by nightfall. Just thinking about what tonight holds has my smile lowering and my mood shifting. I grew up in a world where killing is considered normal and expected, but that doesn't mean I agree with it. The Jade code is there for a reason. So that we're both feared but controlled. My father knew the demons he would create with his teachings, so he made sure those demons were kept in check and chained down. Sadly, you can't keep them all locked away, and you can't control every beast you create.
Father always thought that he could keep a chain around the Jade's neck, and he only used it for discipline when called upon, but otherwise, he let the chain slack. We all thought he could keep everyone in line, but then Will became greedy and the chain snapped. He punished Will greatly for his actions, and it satisfied me to hear him scream in the late nights, but he got out. Someone helped him escape, and they planned it carefully so that Lance and I were both out of the House when they did so. If we were there they knew that Will wouldn't get far.
I came back from an assignment and sat on the stairs until the entire House was quiet and empty save for my father who looked like someone had raised him from the dead. He sent every Jade and trainee out to search for Will and his accomplice, but he disappeared into the shadows and we never found him. Now he's back. He killed my father, watched me slaughter his pig, and his next target is looking at me strangely. Again.
"Why is it every time you smile you think back on that night?" Darius asks as we start our trek across the drawbridge.
I shrug a heavy shoulder. "Old habits I guess."
I can feel him wanting to ask and push more, but he doesn't. He never does. That's the thing with Darius. I don't need to tell him to back off or mind his own business, he already knows not to push. It's refreshing to have someone who gives you your space rather than breathing down your neck, but sometimes I wish he would.
I look back at Lance, probably to say something snippy, but I laugh before I can even think of what to say.
Again, Darius looks at me curiously, but he seems to shove it away for amusement. "Perhaps I should have a painter capture your brother in that uniform if it gets you to smile so easily."
"Tramp."
"Hag."
"Agh," I spout in my best hag impression inspired by Aracely, making him laugh.
We make it to the arched entrance, the sound of the carriage's wheels bouncing on wood going deaf behind us as the clammer of Howler Street in full swing overtakes it. People run about the vendors, children chasing each other as usual. Another twenty-four guards line the start, all standing at attention like good little dogs.
Normally I'm on the other side of the walls and stuck in the crowd, but now I'm on the inside. A perfect little parasite waiting to spring the trap. Only the trap isn't for me, and I'm a part of the bait.
People start waving and wailing as usual. It's like hearing vultures fight over who gets to eat the carcass. Very high-pitched vultures, I'll tell you that. The children smile and gawk at everyone including the guards. The teenage girls whistle sweet things to Darius and aim challenging glares at me. I'm tempted to go up to them and drag them down to the House of Jade by their ear, but that wouldn't be "pleasant" now would it? Didn't think there'd be a day when I would describe myself as pleasant, but here we are.
Men and women alike, however, all smile and bow to the Queen. Not just out of formality, but like her mother-in-law, the Queen holds a special place in the people of Vandria's heart. Everyone knows that the cold shoulder of the King comes from him and him alone. The Queen is an innocent who just so happens to love a madman. Odd, but a great fairytale story for the kids.
"You look uncomfortable. Never thought I'd live to see this day," Darius quips sidelong at me while returning the people's waves.
"I'm used to the attention, just not the chic fight kind," I admit, eyeing a particularly thin-waisted woman with a hungry gaze. It honestly repels me. She looks more like a lioness on the hunt for dinner.
"Well, what did you think was going to happen? You are after all on the arm of the Crown Prince."
"A very humble Crown Prince." I catch a noticeably big-chested girl about a year older than me next, striking a pose against a vendor's cart in hopes to catch His Highnesses eye. I pointedly lean toward him to say, "maybe I should plant a big smucker on you just to get the rest of them in a fit."
His head snaps to me and I can't help but give him a dirty look. "Would you really do that?" Oh, how sweet. He really thinks I'll kiss him to throw off a sad lot of women.
I tap his arm looped through my own. "Handsome you may be, Darius, but you still have the mind of a child." His look of utter disappointment has me laughing again.
I can feel Lance's eye digging into the back of my head, but acknowledging that would give nearly everything away to wandering eyes. Instead, I scan the crowd, waving teasingly at a few girls whose dresses seemed to have dropped lower on the top and hitched higher on the bottom. I know it's unladylike to flaunt your stuff in front of everyone, but how else am I supposed to enjoy this?
A few older women look me up and down with suspicion and disgust, others with proud satisfaction. Usually, I'm looked at with fear and uncertainty. Now I'm getting looked at like some kind of trophy. Especially from the men. Gods, they're all dogs looking for the freshest meet. Even old man Jerry who sells dye and fabric is looking at me like I'm some kind of new toy. Normally I only get these looks from foolish drunks with a death wish.
Averting my gaze from the hustlers, I try distracting my mind by scanning the crowd for any possible spies or assassins. No matter how much experience one has with blending in, you can always spot something off with a person. How they look at you too long, or the way they're dressed, or who they're with or not with. I find some Jades who slyly lift their right hands to their hearts as we pass, acknowledging my brother and notifying him of their presence. Every hand that raises to a heart shoots an arrow in mine. I've only seen it used for one person, and now it doesn't seem to look the same now that he's gone. It looks frail and weak and...hollow. What it stood for stands on three legs rather than four, tilting one way and threatening to topple. I'll stand by it though and beside my brother. It's what my father would've wanted, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt to see it every time.
I'm still searching for those who don't signal their respect when my gaze catches on three children standing in a nearby alley. Their clothes are worn and as dirty as their skin. The oldest looks to be about twelve, the boy eight or nine, and the younger girl about five. No adults around mark any resemblance, no one even sensing their presence.
Their orphans, I realize.
A memory of Queen Adeline strikes my memory and an idea forms in my mind.
"You said you wanted to be a better King than your father," I say in a low voice. "The one your grandmother hoped you'd become."
His hand stops mid-air, his focus now on me. The mention of his grandmother dulls the joy in his eyes, but not as much as they used to. "Yes."
"Well..." I look back to the orphans. "The best way to do that is to understand your people and their needs." His gaze follows mine, and I feel him stiffen when he spots the children. "Your father's demands are taxing on the people, especially on the unemployed. Many go out and many don't come back. Without reason they are killed or die of illnesses they cannot pay to cure and their children are left to find their own way. Being a King isn't just ruling and changing the world in hopes it brings about peace, but rather to give your people somewhere to find peace and hope when the rest of the world tries to tell them there's not."
Darius's eyes land on mine, and I can see the question in his eyes. How am I supposed to do that?
"One step at a time."
His eyes fall to the ground, the alley in which the children are still standing is now only a few feet away. It's a lesson my mother taught me. The best way to lead is to know what the worst looks like. So, when the time comes for you to take your place as a leader, you know what your actions could bring about. I never understood why she told me this when Lance was the one who was taking father's place. Now I see that maybe it was for me to understand and pass on.
With another glance at me, Darius turns his head over his shoulder to where Garrison has been keeping a step behind us. "Garrison."
Already understanding, Garrison lets out a high whistle and the guards and carriage stop moving. The crowd stirs with anticipation and curiosity about what will happen next. I stir with nerves and adrenaline that pump in readiness to do something entirely unpleasant and unladylike. Darius waits until The Dozen have formed two lines at our sides before walking toward the orphans. A few girls start grinning ear to ear when they see us head in their direction. I try not to let my smirk show when they're pushed aside, a clear path now leading us straight to the two girls and boy who clump closest together..
The oldest grabs her younger sibling's hands, her eyes and grip telling me she's debating whether to run or not. I grip Darius's hand and pull him to a halt. He looks at me in question, but a second later he nods and lets me continue on without him. I approach them slowly, my face carefully settled in a calm state.
"It's okay. We haven't come for you, or your brother and sister." I say to the oldest. "We mean you no harm. I swear it upon my mother's grave."
The girl eyes me warily as I lower myself onto my knees in front of them. The little one looks at my hair with an interest only a little girl could have. I give her a smile and hold out my hand to her. Her sister's grip tightens slightly, but she doesn't stop the youngling from taking my hand. She laughs a tender laugh as her fingers skim over the silver bracelet Kat slipped on my wrist earlier. She laughs again when I slip it off my wrist and onto hers.
I look back to the older girl and find that she's still scared, but at least she won't run. "We only want to help." She looks at her sister who's shaking her hand and smiling in delight at the clinking noise the metal makes. When she looks back at me, her expression changes into sadness. One I know a little too well.
Focused on her, I wait until the boy taps my shoulder before turning to him and his enchanting brown eyes. I follow his gaze and turn to look at Darius. "Would you like to meet the Prince?" He bites his lip and nods only once, his eyes gleaming. I turn back to Darius and wave him over. This time the oldest doesn't move to protect her siblings as Darius comes up behind me and kneels on one knee before the boy.
"Hello there. What's your name?"
"Levi," the boy whispers in a sweet and shy voice.
"Well, Levi, I'm taking a walk to the fields by the pond. Would you like to join me?" Darius gestures back to the street towards the edge of the city. It's still a way out thanks to the capital's size, but I'm more than used to the few miles trek. 
The boy nods eagerly and takes Darius's offered hand. The little girl follows her brother, taking Darius's other hand. He stands and leads them back to where Garrison is standing between the parted crowd. People start trying to reach out to Darius scaring the boy and girl into grabbing onto his legs. Orphans and scared they may be, but they still smile and dream the way everyone should.
I turn back to the oldest who's still standing against the wall, watching her brother and sister with careful eyes.
"You know, I'm in need of some company too. I'm sure your brother and sister would want you to be with them." She looks at me, and again I can't ignore the pain in her eyes. I can't do more than let my walls slip just for a second and say, "I know."
Understanding, her eyes glisten with tears. It hurts me to see it all in her eyes. What I feel running in her veins too. It hurts enough to make my eyes burn. My walls shoot back upright as I stand and, slowly, pull her into my side. Her arms go around my waist and my chest constricts with the weight that isn't mine. This girl lost her parents and now she has to come up with ways to feed and care for her siblings who probably don't fully grasp what has happened to them. It's things like this that the Jades are sworn to protect and avenge. Of course, we can't just go marching into the castle and kill the King - though we're well capable and armed to do so, - but we can still help those left in the dust. Darius knew of the things his father did, but until now, I don't think he really understood what those actions cost.
I'll have to ask my brother to send word to the Jades to have the streets searched for any more orphans just to comfort my guilt.
I wipe the tears from the girl's face and keeping her tucked beside me, lead us to Darius and her siblings who now wait for us in the carriage. People snicker, others thanking me. It's moments like this that people will remember when Darius is to be put on the throne. And just as promised to Adeline, I will see to it that he does - because I did promise and I always keep my promises.

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