“How did you escape them, then?” Another official queries, “If you were being tortured by the Castovias, how did you get away?”
What a bunch of dithering old fools!! They ask such trauma inducing questions so lightly! They must be idiots! I fix them with a withering stare.
“Ask Mr True. After all, he’s the one who saved me.” I spit, reigning in my temper as much as possible. I can’t afford to antagonise these old idiots. I don’t have a choice—I need them.
Everyone turns to Samuel and he nods in agreement with me.
“It’s true, I found her in the dungeon when I was looking for, well, you know.” He breaks off suddenly and the room falls still. Looking for the bodies of the royal family is what he couldn’t say.
Aunt Mari looks quite shaken, her face is white as she turns back to me, “You saw the traitors find the King and Queen?” She asks, “Did you see them, kill them?”
The question comes softly from her trembling lips. Her wide, hazel eyes stark in her pale face, staring at me—waiting.
“No. They just took them away.” I reply, tearing my eyes away from her hopeful, conflicted face.
“Then you didn’t see. . . . . . We never found their bodies. . . . . . They could still. . .” Aunt Mari trails off—I can’t leave her with this false hope.
“No.” Everyone turns to stare at me once more, even though my voice is no louder than a whisper, “I saw their bodies.” I manage to articulate, forcing my voice louder.
My memory of my parents, dead on the floor in front of me, flashes before my eyes. Two gun-shots echo in my ears. Blood, blood—everywhere. The hollow thud as their bodies fall, lifeless, to the ground.
I can’t lose it now—not here.
Screams, my screams seem to come from all around me. Not now, not in front of all of these people.
A bullet tears through flesh. If I break down now, they’ll never agree to let me go into the palace.
Blood drips onto a stone floor forming puddles—growing ever larger.
I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The pain clears my head and distracts me from my memories. I look up and the images and sounds fade from my senses.
Samuels looking at me concerned, he noticed my lapse. I dig my nails in harder to keep my head free from confusion.
“There’s no doubt.” I assert sorrowfully to Aunt Mari and the rest of the room. I look her straight in the eyes as I announce, “They’re dead. The Castovias killed them.”
She sighs deeply, leaning against Samuel; a tear drips down her cheek, she wipes it off before it reaches her chin and pulls away.
“So, you know where the safe room is. But how do you know how to get in?”
I look up at Aunt Mari passively, “That moment is engraved in my memory. I can see every detail as clear as glass. Hear every sound. The passcode is locked in my mind. I could forget it if I wanted to.”
The mood is sombre as they process my words.
“So long as they haven’t changed the code.” Julian interjects. Being an outsider, he doesn’t know about the safe room’s safe guards. Every child is taught about it, just in case they are ever in the palace when something happens.
Aunt Mari shakes her head, “They can’t. You need to be of the Lamonia blood-line to change anything related to the built-in safety measures.”
Julian nods understandingly, “So, I guess all you need to do now is, pass this information along to your spy and he can get the file.”
I frown—if they go with Julian’s idea I’ll be pushed aside. This is my mission, my job to do and no one is going to take it from me. However, before I can open my mouth to argue, Baron Killheart dismisses the idea himself.
“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. My spy works in a specific area of the palace, doing a specific job. Great for finding information, but he doesn’t have the leisure to wander around the palace. He’d be noticed and caught instantly.”
I sigh with relief. Now it’s my turn to introduce a plan, “What if a couple or high-ranking, important foreigners were to visit? Their maid would be less conspicuous; and if found in a strange place could plead lost.”
The faces around me turn thoughtful.
“You know, that could work.” Duke Erwood muses, “What do you think, Samuel?” He asks, turning to face him, “Is it feasible?”
Samuel stares at me intensely, I keep my face calm and free from my jumbled emotions. He has to agree with me. This is the best and most logical plays—it’s taking advantage of one of the biggest flaws in the royal security, and we both know it.
I meet his gaze confidently, he sighs and turns to the duke, “It would be the most logical plan.” He answers succinctly, when he doesn’t elaborate Aunt Mari eyes him uncomprehending.
Unexpectedly, Julian fills in the gap, “It’s a good idea because the important foreigners would be watched constantly—like any other visitor to the palace—while the maid,” Here he halts for a second and glances quickly at me before continuing, “Would have relative freedom to move about the palace, and be virtually unnoticeable.
“Furthermore, if the maid is discovered somewhere she’s not supposed to be, she has her ignorance of the layout and her foreign masters for protection.”
Everyone nods along as he explains the points of the plan. I, myself, am very surprised by the tactical knowledge he possesses. Not everyone could explain the pros of the plan so succinctly. He really is confusing me with his changes in demeanour and confounding knowledge.
I push thoughts of Julian out of my head—I’ll deal with them later. Right now, I need to focus on making sure I am the one they choose to be the maid.
Melody and Julian are the obvious choices for the visiting foreigners and they quickly agree to be involved. Before anyone else can suggest a candidate to be the maid, I pipe up.
“I think the best person to infiltrate the palace and find the safe room is me.” I announce coolly, “I have first-hand knowledge of where the room is located and how to access it, so I’d be less likely to make a mistake then anyone else. I can also speak the old tongue so I’ll be able to eavesdrop on what people might be trying to hide from me.”
I spread my hands and gaze around the room, “All in all, I’m the best option, both logically and tactically. . . .” I peter off slowly—no one is paying any attention to me. Or, more accurately, to my words; they are all staring at my hands, shock plastered across their faces.
I look down and am met with the sight of my own blood-drenched hands. My throat tightens for a second until I realise it’s real, it’s my blood, not some hallucination.
Huh, I wonder when that happened?
I glance at the floor, and sure enough, there are two small puddles of blood where it dripped off my hands. I close my fists and move them behind me, out of sight, soon to be forgotten.
“Sorry about that.” I say brightly, trying to snap them out of their daze, “Some of my old wounds must have reopened. It’s fine, really, we should continue.” I announce reassuringly; it’s a brilliant speech, but it doesn’t seem to be working. In fact, the faces around me seem to be more horrified than shocked now, never a good evolution.
The only person not effected is Julian, instead of shock or horror he’s staring at me puzzled. I guess he must have noticed my hands dripping blood, and is instead confused about my own shock upon realising.
He turns and vanishes out the door, leaving me to flounder around by myself. The door closing sounds loudly in the silent room. It seems to bring Aunt Mari to her senses; she smiles gently at me and approaches slowly.
“Please, Raven, was it,” Her eyes take on a considering gleam before she shakes her head and kindness with a touch of pity fills her eyes, “Please sit down, dear. I’ll have someone go fetch a first-aid kit.”
She ushers me to a chair and turns to talk with Samuel. What’s up with them all? It’s only a little cut on my hand! They’re acting like it’s an extreme injury or at least very painful. Of which it is neither. I didn’t even notice it before I saw the blood!
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