Hidden Secrets

Chapter Fifteen

"Why wasn't I invited to the funeral?"

Mehdi and Blythe were on the train, headed towards the town of Eroslen. The whole time the air was filled with an uncomfortable silence that neither wanted to break. That was until Blythe Coden decided it would be best if someone at least tried to make conversation.

The prince sighed, unsure of how to answer. He knew his uncle would ask eventually, but he wasn't prepared to explain the reason. "Because Mother thought it best if you weren't there because, well you know...you were part of the attack," he said slowly, hesitant on how Blythe would handle the response. "And we still didn't trust you..."

Blythe listened to every word, his face never changing from neutral. "I suppose that's a reasonable answer. But I still wish I was able to somewhat see him one last time, even if he wasn't breathing," he said sadly. "He was my brother after all."

"I'm sorry." Mehdi breathed in, trying to not let his emotions get the best of him. "I miss him."

"Did you and your father have a good relationship?"

Mehdi shrugged. "I guess so. There were times where we would disagree on somethings, but when I came out, he supported and accepted me. The biggest goal he wanted for me was to be happy."

"And are you?"

Mehdi shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm in a happy relationship, I'm the heir to the throne, my parents love me...so, yeah, I would say so."

Blythe nodded his head and said no more.

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Eroslen was a slightly smaller and definitely quieter town than Oakaine. The houses were abandoned, it seemed, and the only lights on were in one of the houses on the far side of the street. However, there was no fire this time, only the glow from the lights inside the smaller building; the rebel base.

The prince and his uncle silently stalked towards the building, glancing around at their surroundings every now and then. They were both dressed in dark clothing that was not as fancy as what they would wear at the palace. It was more like rags, Mehdi defined, unquestionably uncomfortable without wearing his dress shirts and suits that he was so used to.

They also both carried a pistol, in case anything was to happen.

"We can go through the back," Blythe whispered as they came close to the base. "Most of them don't go there anyway."

Mehdi jerked his head in response. "Ladies first." Blythe scoffed but went ahead.

Just as Mehdi was to follow behind, a hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes went wide and he tried to yell but it was only muffled. Blythe turned around at the commotion, but before he could say anything, a sack was aggressively placed over his head. The prince was struggling to get away but then was hit hard in the side of the head making his vision blurry and spotted. He stopped fighting as his eyelids slowly closed, his sight going black.

The prince slowly came to, his head pounding. There must have been a sack over his head because when he opened his eyes, darkness was all he could see. He tried to move but his hands and legs were tied to, what seemed, the legs of a chair. Someone must've seen him move because he heard them call out to another person.

"Ah, perfect," they drawled. The voice was deep and bitter. "Take them off."

The sack was ripped off Mehdi's head. He squinted, the light blinding him for a second. Once his eyes adjusted, he recognized that he was in the same room from when he went to discuss his thoughts with the leader.

The table was discarded to the side, Medhi noticed, and they sat in the center of the room, facing the far wall. Blythe appeared to be calm, even though he was in the same situation as his nephew; tied up to a chair.