When Ethan appeared at the bars of their cell, Cas wasn’t surprised, but the sight of the rebel still made him tense. It seemed like Iris had been right when she’d predicted that he would come back after he took care of his wounded leg. The prince watched him carefully as he approached, still running his hand down and up her back to quell her tremors. Though he didn’t move, his heart had begun to pound with apprehension. Inside the prison, there was nowhere for him to run to escape from whatever cruel and unusual “punishment” the rebel had come up with for him. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was going to die at the Scourge’s hands, but that didn’t mean his will to live had vanished. His body still responded to its fight or flight instincts just like it had every other time he’d felt like he was in danger in the other districts.

When Ethan banged his fist against the metal bars, Cas flinched involuntarily but otherwise hid his nervousness. He didn’t want to give the other man the satisfaction of seeing him cower. He also tightened his grip on Iris as he felt her jump against his chest. Her motion sent shooting pains through his torso, but his desire to protect her outweighed the discomfort, so he kept still while she woke up with one arm wrapped around her back. He assumed her ex-boyfriend was here to try to separate them again, but apparently there was more to it than that.

The mention of an interrogation immediately made him bristle. As the heir to the crown, he was intimately familiar with the military’s techniques of coercing prisoners to talk. If the rebels had similar methods, he was in for an excruciating few hours. He could already feel himself starting to sweat as his imagination ran wild with guesses as to what Ethan was going to do with him. It was highly unlikely that the Scourge had access to the classified serums that the capital had at their penitentiary, but they wouldn’t need chemicals to torture him. He just hoped they would give up on learning anything from him quickly, so he wouldn’t suffer too much.

Glancing at Iris, he ground his teeth when the rebel told her to be quiet again, despising the way he treated her. He was also leery of his order for her to talk to his father. He’d never met the man, but if he shared blood with the angry blonde who was opening the door to their cell, he didn’t trust him either. Obstinately, he held onto her until the rebel grabbed him and pulled, wrenching his injured ribs as his arm was jerked. The pain made it difficult to breathe, and a whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it.

Ethan’s grip was vice like, and he didn’t have the strength to fight him off, so instead, he stumbled to get his feet underneath him as he was dragged away from the bed. “I can walk on my own,” he snapped, trying to rip his arm free from the other man’s hand without making his chest hurt worse than it already did. Meanwhile, the other guard had stepped into the cell as ell to escort Iris to see Ethan’s father. The prince craned his neck toward her, but it was apparent that they weren’t going to be able to stick together this time. They were too badly outmatched.

Abruptly, the thought flashed through his mind that this could be the last time they saw each other. He didn’t know what Ethan planned to do with him after the questioning, and his father’s motives with Iris were even more of a mystery. It was likely that he would be killed or that they would be separated for good after this moment.

Stricken with panic, he dug in his heels and mustered up all the strength he had to tear his arm free from the rebel’s grasp, running back to Iris to take her face in his hands and press a desperate kiss to her lips. Even though they hadn’t been together for very long, he knew he cared about her more than anyone else in Aspiria, so he couldn’t bring himself to part from her without telling her how he felt. When he pulled back from the kiss, he met her gaze intently. “I love you, Iris,” he breathed just before he felt firm hands on his shoulders, dragging him away again.

Iris felt sick when they spoke about interrogating him, sure the Capital probably had bad techniques but so did the rebels. Iris shad never wanted to know about them, information was key of course, but the way they would get the information always put her on edge because it wasn’t right. “N-No… Ethan please. Don’t hurt him anymore, what gain would it be?” Unable to stop herself from pleading, she hated the idea of him getting hurt when already he had been through so much. At the end of it all he was going to be killed, why torture him before that? Though Ethan didn’t care, she could see it in his eyes even as she pleaded it sparked no form of emotion other than anger.

“Well then walk.” Ethan snapped ignoring her please for his safety, he didn’t care what she thought. After all they were going to kill him, right after they had gotten the information they needed. When he was dead Iris would mourn, be devastated knowing that she had nothing left to live for so of course it made it easier to manipulate her to stay with him. There would be no choice as she didn’t know about her father yet, perhaps the information of both deaths would be easier.

Iris flt her heart hammering away, tears welled in her eyes as Ethan dragged Caspain away. Clambering off of the bed ignoring the other rebel who had come to escort her to see his father she reached out to Cas, even as the rebel grabbed her stopping her from getting any further. “Cas.” Panicked she found it difficult to breathe, but whatever strength he had mustered she watched as he ran back to her and out of instinct, she wriggled out of the rebel’s grasp. Who cared how long they had been together? Right now, she was potentially losing what people could call the one, someone she knew made her happy even in the darkest of days.

Returning his kiss out of desperation she didn’t want to let him go, she wanted to hold him to just hide away from everything and feel the safety of his arms, but that was not on the cards for them. Their fate was to be separated and it hurt her, it pained her chest knowing that this could be the last time they saw one another. “Cas… I.” The sudden confession made her dizzy and in usual circumstances she would have flushed, been embarrassed probably even laughed nervously but they didn’t get to have that luxury of being embarrassed over a confession. “I love you too Cas, I will always love you.” Panicked because she wanted to make sure he heard her, her voice high, wavering from holding back her emotions but she felt a rush of emotion at telling him how she felt. If he was going to die, she wanted him to know he was loved by someone.

Though the confession only worsened Ethans mood and he dragged Caspain without a word. A dangerous glint in his eye as he shot a look at Iris, “I will deal with you later.” As much as he tried to conceal the hurt in his voice, the anger and despair could be heard as he shoved Caspain along leading him towards one of the interrogation rooms. At least he could take his anger out on the Prince, information gathering would go well whilst he was in a mood. Kicking open the door he pushed the Prince inside before slamming the door shut, two rebels standing outside to keep watch just in case things got heated.

Eyes glared down at the Prince as he clenched his fists shaking trying to regain some sort of composure, “So Prince. Tell me about your military.”

Caspian wished he and Iris were normal people. Normal lovers who had met each other under normal circumstances and been together the way any other normal people would have been. But that could never happen. From the beginning, they had been hopelessly star-crossed, coming from opposite ends of the social order and fighting tooth and nail against everything and everyone who got in their path. He would have loved to put it all behind him and be with her—tell her that he loved her the way he would have wanted to. If he’d had it his way, he would have taken her out on a romantic date and planned out exactly how he would have confessed the feelings that he had for her. He would have then waited with bated breath for her to tell him she loved him too.

Instead, he’d admitted it in the confines of a rebel prison, rushing to make sure she knew before he was dragged off to what would most likely be his death. He didn’t even have time to care if she felt the same way. Of course, he did want her to love him too, but he also knew that he’d confessed quickly. They’d been together in the capital for only a day or so, and then only another couple days had passed since they’d gotten together again in Bel Bicis. Objectively, they still barely knew each other, but he couldn’t deny that he’d fallen head over heels for her while they’d been on the run from rebellion. Trauma and hardship had a way of accelerating the clock. However, he knew it was a lot to expect her to reciprocate his fledgling affection this soon, so he didn’t wait.

Dragged along by Ethan, he dropped his gaze to the floor, only to freeze again when he heard her say that she loved him too. The words made his pounding heart stumble, and he looked up at her, dumbfounded. She loves me, the thought echoed over and over in his head. It was relieving and exhilarating and gut-wrenching all at the same time. He was elated that she felt the same way, but because of the rebels, their affection would die at that. They would never have a chance to explore it any further because he was going to be killed, and she was going to have to move on without him. If fate was real, it had a morbid sense of humor.

Dazed, he staggered as Ethan pulled him out of the cell and led him down one of the cold, gray corridors away from Iris. He couldn’t pay attention to where they were going—not that it mattered, since he had no hope of escaping—and only came out of the stupor when they arrived at a room. As soon as the rebel let go of him, he looked around again, wondering absently if this was the last place he was ever going to see. It was just as unnerving as the rest of the building, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if Ethan chose to play the role of both interrogator and executioner that day.

Turning back to him, Cas eyed the other man cagily. Right away, Ethan asked him a question that he wasn’t willing to answer. He may have been disappointed and upset with his father for turning his back on him, but he wasn’t a traitor. At the risk of life and limb, he was going to take the crown’s secrets with him to his grave.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he growled stubbornly, mentally bracing himself for the repercussions of his decision. At least he wasn’t restrained. With his arms and legs free, he intended to fight back as best as he could if the rebel tried to force him to talk. Broken ribs be damned, he had nothing left to lose now that he was guaranteed to die, so he wasn’t going down without resisting on the way.

“Oh, I really would, hence I asked.” Ethan spat as he moved over to the Prince aiming a swift kick to Caspains side with his good leg, he was more than happy to beat out the answers from him. Ethan had no qualms with maiming, harming or killing him because ultimately, he was getting his wish. The rebels were getting their wish and that was to be rid of this monarchy. Hopefully rid of the famine, the unjust and poor. Districts could get some money; they could rebuild and hopefully with it a better life for everyone. Not just the rich, although Ethan would be lying if he didn’t want that for himself. A nice life, someone who loved him and potentially even a family. The riches, however, did tempt him.

“You know she doesn’t love you.” Venomous words as he spoke eyes glaring at the Prince clearly unhappy with their brief display of affection. Ethan was not a fan, he honestly felt cheated and to him it was all this Princes fault. Ethan didn’t want to believe for a second that Iris loved the Prince, he had to keep telling himself that it had to do with the amnesia. That the trauma had messed her up and this was why she wasn’t herself. The minute she’d be torn from the Prince, taken away from everything about the Capital she surely had to come to her senses. “How could she love you, if you’d have known her identity in the Capital you would have killed her.”

Trying to keep his voice calm he glanced around the small room they used to interrogate prisoners. A table was sat in the middle with two chairs at opposite sides. The door was locked, and Ethan knew he could take himself in a fight against Caspain, especially as the Prince was in a worse state than him. “Can you tell me honestly you would have loved her back in the Capital. You can never work. You know this.” Ethans words were more trying to convince himself that there would never be anything between them, “It’s not like you were serious with each other anyway.” Shrugging it off as he folded his arms. “You know you can make this easier on yourself, if you talk, I won’t hurt you. You know the drill with these things.” Waving his hand as if he was bored before it reached inside his suit jacket pulling out the gun from earlier as he twirled the weapon in his fingers.

“I will use this.” Aiming the gun towards Caspain as he watched him, giving the Prince a chance to discuss the military and answer his questions.

The other rebel who had been escorting Iris stopped at the door, nodding for her to go inside as he kept guard outside. The rebel was there in case she did decide to run, but she hadn’t. It seemed she had more sense. Sighing to herself Iris looked at the door before pushing it open to reveal some sort of office with Ethans father sat at the desk waiting for her. Nerves ebbed away in her stomach as she looked over at him, he had always been nice but with how violent his son was she couldn’t help but worry.

“Welcome Iris, it’s been a while. Please, take a seat.”

Cas cocked his chin stubbornly when Ethan spat at him. In truth, he was more afraid of the rebel than he let on. He didn’t want to die, and he felt like a caged animal trapped between a wall and its abuser. His heart was hammering, and his palms were sweaty as he stared down the man who wanted to see him dead probably more than anyone else in the world. This was only going to end one way—he was well aware of that—but he wasn’t going to let Ethan control the intermediary stages before he died. He refused to give up any information that the rebellion could use to overthrow the crown, and he wasn’t going to be pummeled without fighting back. If this was to be the place where he was killed, then he was going to make sure he made a name for himself as courageous rather than cowardly.

So, when Ethan swung a leg at him, he was quick to step out of the way, avoiding the blow aimed at his side. Moving in a hurried manner elicited a stabbing pain in his chest though, and he was forced to stop immediately after, clutching at the area that ached and holding his breath until it faded. It was going to be difficult to throw any punches in return as long as he was suffering from the injuries of his last street fight.

He kept Ethan in his sight as the rebel went on to taunt him with lies that Iris didn’t actually love him. Of course, he didn’t believe any of it. Whether she did or did not care for him was something the other man couldn’t know. Ethan might have been the last person she was with, but he hadn’t been present for the forming of his relationship with her, nor the developing feelings that had spawned out of it. However, he gritted his teeth as the rebel went on to accuse him. As much as he loathed to admit it, he probably would have had her sentenced to death if he’d known she was part of the Scourge when they had met. He couldn’t defend himself without lying.

But that isn’t what happened, he reminded himself, internally rejecting the guilt that Ethan was trying to levy upon his heart. Whether it had been God or fate or something else entirely, they had met under the perfect circumstances for him to get to know her as a person, learn the truth about the other districts, and end up falling for her somewhere along the way. He couldn’t doubt her affection for him, and he couldn’t let her ex-boyfriend get inside his head. She was all he had left.

Choosing not to respond to the other man’s jealous words, he kept quiet until Ethan made the absurd promise that he wouldn’t hurt him if he answered his questions. At that, Cas couldn’t help but bark a laugh. “I know the drill is that you’re going to kill me,” he scoffed, keeping the rebel’s hands in the corner of his eye. “Don’t give me that bullshit about mercy. I’m not going to tell you anything, so just do whatever you were planning to fucking do to me.”

It was a bold dare, but he didn’t regret making it. He had nothing to lose, and he had already braced himself for the pain his interrogator was going to inflect in response to his unwillingness to comply. At this point, he just wanted to get it over with, so the torment of waiting would end. However, when Ethan brandished his gun, the bravery in the prince’s eyes wavered. Gazing upon what was, for all he knew, going to be the instrument of his death sapped at his resolve, and he hesitated as the rebel threatened to use it if he didn’t talk. He’d never been shot before, but he doubted it was a pleasant experience.

Swallowing nervously, he curled his fingers tightly at his sides. It’s not like I have a choice, he thought, doing his best to hold fast to his resolution in spite of every instinct he had that was screaming at him to save himself. I’m going to die. That’s going to happen. So I might as well make it on my own terms.

Taking a shuddering breath, he stared Ethan coldly in the eyes and sneered, “Then do it, bitch.”

Ethan couldn’t help but laugh as Capsain played up like he was in power here, as if he was strong and he had to admit he did like seeing the courage from him. It was no fun when they had no life left in them, no fight as they just let him practically beat them up. “Well. It’s still your choice for a painful death or you know… something more civil if you give us information.” It was an absurd promise of course because he wasn’t going to give any sort of mercy, not the man he loathed with his entire being.

“Well, if you’re so sure about me doing whatever I plan.” Shrugging as if it was no big deal to him, he looked at Caspain as he continued to brandish the gun, playing with it in his fingertips as he kept an eye on Caspain out the corner of his eye. “So, I’m going to get no information from you? None at all?” Without hesitation he used the gun and shot at Caspains feet, no intention to hit him but more to scare him in hopes for a slip of the tongue. For any piece of information that could help.

Taking to his feet he moved around the table and placed himself in front of Cas, his fist was clenched, and he aimed a punch to his gut. Then he aimed another to his face happily releasing his anger through blows as he tried to use Caspain as a punching bag. A part of him hoping for some fight back, the gun was stowed away in his inside pocket safely until he would shoot Caspain. Perhaps tonight would be the night he killed him; it would be the end of all of his troubles with the Prince gone. “Oh ho, calling me a bitch. That’s rich coming from a spoilt little shit like you.” Unable to stop himself from growling as he felt a new wave of anger flow through him.

Iris doesn’t love him. She will love me. Not him. Father has said so anyway. As if trying to remind himself that they could never have been in love, their confession had clearly gotten the better of him. “Tell me you would have sentenced her to death. Say it.” A crazed look passed through his face, the glint in his eyes as he raised his fist to go in for another punch. Ethan looked like some sort of crazed animal and was acting like one, all he was missing was the foaming of the mouth to signal the anger.

“What do you want?” Iris couldn’t help but ask, the whisper leaving her lips as she sat down on the other side of the desk from Ethans father.

“Come now, there is no need for the hostility. After all I thought you looked at me like a father once.” Calm spoken Ethans father offered a warm smile to Iris, reaching out as he grabbed a white box handing it to her. “I know he’s hurt you. His temper can get the better of him, but that’s because he doesn’t have you in his life to keep him on track. This fling with the Prince is nothing. I don’t think you’ve fully recovered from the trauma you faced.”

“N-No… that’s no..”

Cutting her off swiftly he held up his hand to silence her, a rather dark look crossed his eyes as he looked down at Iris. “There is only one option here. The other will ultimately be your death and I don’t want that. Your father won’t want that.” Leaning back in the chair he clasped his hands together as he nodded to the box for her to open. “A gift. You are to wear it now and for tomorrow you will be having dinner with Ethan. It will be a romantic dinner and you will be happy. You will enjoy yourself.”

‘Civil,’ my ass, Caspian though scathingly as Ethan continued to try to persuade him to give up the crown’s secrets. It seemed like the rebel was just as stubborn as he was. Waiting for the sound of the gunshot was torturous in and of itself, but he stood his ground, unwavering in his decision to take everything he knew about the monarchy and the military to his grave. Ethan was wasting his time by trying to scare him into talking. Perhaps if he’d had even a sliver of hope that he would come out of this prison alive, he would have been more careful to avoid provoking him into doing something rash; but with no expectations that he would survive, he was uncharacteristically obstinate. He just hoped the rebel had a good enough aim to kill him quickly, so he wouldn’t suffer for too long before his life was snuffed out.

When the loud crack of the gun finally sounded, the prince felt his blood pressure drop dangerously with a spike in fear. For half a second, he worried that he’d just drawn his last breath, but instead, the bullet ricocheted off the concrete floor beneath his feet. The rebel was still trying to wring information out of him. He felt weak with relief and swayed slightly, unbalanced as he fought to regather his composure. The feeling was premature though, as Ethan immediately chased the first shot by lunging at him with his fist cocked back to swing.

Stumbling to get out of the way, Cas wasn’t as prepared for the attack as he had been the first time. The rebel’s hand grazed his side as he reeled backwards, inadvertently throwing his weight too far just before Ethan struck again. His breath caught in his throat as he realized too late that he couldn’t move fast enough. In the next moment, he felt pain explode across his jaw, and stars danced in his vision when his fist made contact. Already unstable before the impact, he staggered and fell on his rear. Hitting the floor jarred his ribs, and he choked on his own breath, but he didn’t have time to recover before the rebel was upon him again.

His adrenaline surged, and he rolled out of the way before Ethan could land another punch, climbing ungracefully to his feet. If he wanted to fight back, this was most likely the only chance he would get. Tasting blood—the cut inside his cheek had reopened with the rebel’s last hit—he let out a feral holler and fell on Ethan with a punch of his own aimed for the other man’s face. He was sick and tired of letting Iris’s ex throw his weight around like he was better than him, like he knew her better than he did. He was too arrogant for his own good, and the prince was going to put him in his place before he died.

“Fuck off!” he snarled as his own fist connected with Ethan’s jaw, any semblance of dignity forgotten in the heat of the fight. He knew that if his father had seen him behaving like a bruiser rather than a respectable royal, he would have been appalled, but there was no room for etiquette when he was going to be killed. He wasn’t going to play the rebel’s degrading games, and he wasn’t going to lay down and let him walk all over him. Determined to hold his own, he coiled back his arm to deliver another blow to the other man’s head.

There it was the fight back that Ethan had wanted. It was no fun just using someone as a punching bag even if he was pissed off with the Prince. The little bit of fight excited him, it meant he could easily continue on rolling with the punches for a bit. Who cared if the Prince had a few more bruises? It was not like the Capital would get the badly beaten body back. They thought he was dead already, so this was borrowed time, a chance for them to have some extra fun with him before they ultimately killed him.

“HAH! You do have some fight. Not some sort of sissy.” Spitting out his words as he watched Caspain tried to regain his composure, stable himself after the hits Ethan had aimed his way. “Awh… I’m sorry. Am I hurting you?” Pretending to care as the sarcasm laced his voice, each word mimicking a girly tone as if insinuating he was some sort of wuss. The adrenaline had to have hit Caspain before Ethan didn’t dodge the hit to his face, the punch collided with quite a bit of force and the shock alone stunned him. The pain hadn’t registered, but he could taste blood. The iron taste now on his tongue as he realised the punch had cut the inside of his lip.

“What is this going to accomplish Prince?” Hissing out the words as blood spluttered from his mouth, droplets of blood staining his worn white shirt as opened his mouth as if trying to attain the damage to his jaw from the hit. He could still move his jaw which was a good sign, but it had been a powerful punch. The Prince could pack quite the hit, which was clear, but Ethan had the upper hand even with his injured leg. Ethan hadn’t been on the run no doubt scrounging for whatever scraps of food they could find. The thought of the Prince slumming it gave him an odd sense of satisfaction as he took a few steps towards the Prince a grin across his face.

“How have you enjoyed life? I’m sure it’s not what you expected. No food, shelter. You’ve been living like the dog you are.” Smirking to himself as Ethan became rather smug with himself as he reached out grabbing Caspains wrist beneath his fingers. A vice like grip ensued as he tried to crush the bone in his wrist, force it to snap as he harshly pulled Caspain towards the floor. Ethan wanted to tower over him, show him who was boss and when he was on the floor perhaps, he would finally kill him. After all he wasn’t going to give out any information so was, he needed anymore?

“What a brilliant idea if I do say so myself.” Reaching back into his pocket with his other hand he pulled out the gun, first he aimed it towards Caspains heart as if he was going to shot. Finger on the trigger as his eyes burned with anger. Ethans fingers began to squeeze but at the last second, he aimed the gun to the Princes leg and shot without hesitation wondering just want the Prince would do now.

Iris felt herself jump in the seat; she had thought she heard a gunshot before but that sounded like another. Had they killed him? Trembling she felt everything go slow even as she gripped the box in her hands, colour drained from her face as the realisation that they may have actually just killed the Prince washed over her. No. No. They can’t have.

“Hear that, that’s the sound of time running out. I’ll have you escorted to your room. Feel free to get changed and get some rest. Ethan has big plans for you tomorrow Especially with what sounds like the Prince being dead.”

Although Iris heard his words, they didn’t register. She felt cold, they couldn’t have killed him, surely it was just an interrogation. Surely, he was still alive, no. She refused to believe he was dead until she saw the body. By this point as she was stuck in her own thoughts someone had already pushed her out of the chair and dragged her along to wherever else she was going now. Even though they had handled her roughly it didn’t get any sort of reaction from her, she was just pulled along like some ragdoll. It was strange because she knew what was happening around her, but it didn’t feel real. Even as they walked down the hall, even as she was now pushed into what looked like a bedroom. It wasn’t real. Iris was too focused on Caspain, that he had to be alive. Though Ethans fathers’ words crossed her mind ones more, time running out. The Prince dead. Dropping to her knees in the empty bedroom the box feels from her shaking hands, tears left her eyes as she began to sob already blaming herself for his death.

I killed him. This is my fault. Caspain is dead.

The more Caspian’s temper flared, the more Ethan’s words got under his skin. Driving his fist forward with as much force as he could muster, he craved to wipe the smug grin off the rebel’s face. To hell with respectability and to hell with being the better man. He was sick of being the “nice guy.” Look where that had gotten him, locked up in a rebel cell with the man who was most likely going to take his life the instant he realized he wasn’t going to get any information out of him. When he’d been backed against a wall, the only thing he had left was his will to fight and to survive for a few minutes longer.

Swallowing his kind heart in anger, he felt a twinge of satisfaction when he saw the droplets of blood that stained the other man’s white shirt after his first punch. He seemed to have gotten to the rebel too as Ethan hissed at him, revealing his own frustration underneath the layer of cockiness he wore on his face. It was only a fraction of what he deserved for terrorizing him and Iris, but it was better than nothing. He hoped it hurt him as much as it looked like it did.

Provoked by the rebel’s jeer of calling him a dog, Cas swung again, only to blink in surprise when he felt Ethan’s hand catch hold of his wrist. His opponent was faster than he’d thought. He shifted his weight to pull back but then faltered when the rebel bore down on the limb with unexpected strength. Biting down hard on his lip to stifle a cry of pain, he pulled back to get away from him and raised his other arm to throw a punch. Ethan was much faster though, wrenching his captured wrist downward toward the floor. The jarring motion put even more strain on his bones until a crack could be heard, and the prince let out an agonized howl, dropping to the ground and clutching his forearm as he stared in shock at the broken limb.

Expecting to be tortured and actually enduring the hell of it were two entirely different things. Through the adrenaline, he hadn’t felt the full pain of having his wrist snapped in half, but it was still horrifying to see his own hand bent at an unnatural angle, quickly swelling at its mangled joint. He didn’t have time to process it either, as the rebel was now standing over him with his gun aimed at his chest.

Looking up at him, Cas felt lightheaded as the whole of everything began to overwhelm him. He was going to die. He’d never expressly feared his own demise, but now that he was staring down the barrel of a gun, the reality gripped him fiercely, and he trembled, unsure whether he should close his eyes or keep them open, so he could prepare himself for the bullet that would pierce his heart. Either way, cold terror washed over him as the rebel squeezed the trigger, and he turned his head away, waiting for the lethal blow.

The deafening bang of the weapon ensued, but instead of feeling his heart burst from the impact, the prince was taken aback by an explosion of agony that blossomed in his thigh. He screamed and grasped his leg with his good hand, tears streaming uncontrollably as he watched blood well up and begin to pour from the bullet hole. Even Regis’s knife hadn’t hurt this intensely. He found himself wishing that Ethan had just shot him in the heart instead.

“You psychopath!” he yelled at the rebel, gritting his teeth as the torment of his injuries wracked his body. “Just kill me and be done with it!” almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he groaned and gasped for air. Every part of him hurt so much that he could no longer tell where the pain was coming from. His broken ribs sent shooting pains through his chest, his broken wrist did the same at the end of his arm, and the bullet lodged in his thigh was so agonizing that it almost felt like it was poisoning him. His vision was spotty with black and red, and he couldn’t move from where he laid on the floor.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, and his head dropped to the concrete. Overwhelmed with pain, it was difficult for him to stay awake, and he panted raggedly, fighting the urge to pass out. He wished he could see Iris again, to find comfort in her presence one more time before Ethan killed him, but he couldn’t even sit upright. All he could do was lay in his misery and hope the rebel would finish him off before he went into shock from his wounds.

“Pathetic.” Ethan hissed as he heard him scream in pain, well Ethan had never been shot in the leg, so he didn’t know how painful it was plus he had only had bullets graze him so far. Ethan had found a great joy in insulting the Prince as the satisfaction of harming him cheered him up, putting him in a far better mood. Hearing him yell and beg for death was satisfying to say the least and being called a psychopath was nothing to him, in fact he revelled in the fact he had gotten to the Prince and under his skin.

Ethan could see the blood blossom from the wound, and it made him happy knowing he had caused damage. Right now, it wasn’t life threatening, but he knew he had to get it bandaged to stem the blood flow. After all he didn’t want the Prince dead just yet, not when he felt like he could try to get some information out of him. Tomorrow he would look at ways to kill the Prince, he needed to discuss it with his father and the rest of the people as he didn’t want to make the same mistake Regis had. After all that mistake had cost him his life and Ethan wanted to keep his intact.

Moving over to Caspains body he nudged it with his foot sighing as he knew he would need the rebels to come sort this mess out. Ethan didn’t want to deal with it, that was beneath him. “OI, get in here. I need someone to sort out this wound and move him back to his cell.” Barking orders as he signalled at the others who came inside grimacing at the sight, “NOW. Jeez. Bunch of idiots.” Muttering under his breath as he moved outside of the room leaving the mess inside to be dealt with, not even caring that one of the rebels seemed to pull a face at his insult. After all Ethan was in charge.

What have I done?

Continuous thoughts of despair continued to plague Iris as she couldn’t stop her sobs. Not even bothering to look at her new surroundings as she didn’t care, what was left to care about? The promise that she would try to keep herself alive. It seemed silly now, did she really want to live? Certainly not with the rebels, but there was no way Ethan would let her out of his sight now. Especially as he had separated her from Caspain, their wish had been granted. A part of her wished to see Maisie, have someone to confide in and cry too as right now she felt alone. Did Cas feel that? Alone? Feeling her lower lip tremble as she couldn’t stop the spiral of thoughts and worries that surrounded her around his death.

Curling up in the middle of the floor Iris hugged herself as her sobs died down, tears still left her eyes as she let her thoughts surround her as time passed. Iris was so exhausted from the nightmarish sleep that she ended up crying herself into an uneasy sleep in the middle of the floor. Broken and devastated from the loss.

Distantly, Cas heard Ethan call him pathetic, but he didn’t have any thoughts left to spare to process the mockery. All he could think about was how much pain he was in and hope that the rebel would put him out of his misery with another shot to the head or chest. He’d thought he would be more prepared to handle being tortured, but he understood now why Aspirian soldiers were trained for the experience beforehand. Having his bones broken and his leg shot had practically shattered his will in the span of about ten or fifteen minutes. He was still determined to take the crown’s secrets to his grave, but now he actually wanted to die. To go on living seemed too excruciating to endure.

Squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of agony swept him up in its relentless grasp, he was tempted to let go and pass out. His head felt muddled anyway, and he couldn’t move. Every muscle was taut as he strained against the fire that burned in the worst of his injuries. Whatever was left of his will to live beckoned him to hold on though. Even though unconsciousness would be sweet relief from the misery, there was something foreboding about the prospect of allowing himself to fade. He was too concerned that he wouldn’t wake up again.

When the rebel toed him with his shoe, Cas groaned, his head lolling on the concrete. He didn’t have the strength to shift on the floor, let alone try to get away from Ethan. The hand that was still placed on his leg felt hot and sticky with his own blood, a warning that he was going to bleed out if he didn’t have treatment soon. He could hear voices in the room with him, but when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t able to focus his vision well enough to figure out what was going on. All he knew was that there were more men with him now, none who seemed familiar, and that Ethan was walking away.

For a brief moment, he felt confused. He’d thought the new rebel leader was going to finish him off, but instead, he felt more hands on his body. Someone was touching his leg and pulling his hand away from the bullet wound. The prince moaned and tried to pull back, pained by the stranger’s rough prodding, but someone else knelt down by his torso to hold him down, preventing him from moving. Disoriented and too weak to fight the second person off, he couldn’t do anything but lay on the ground and howl as the first man coarsely tended and bandaged his freely bleeding thigh.

Stabbing pain scorched through his body, sapping away what was left of his strength until he felt darkness encroaching on his consciousness. As hard as he had tried to keep himself awake, he couldn’t push back against the urge to pass out forever.

As the rebels finished up their work and began maneuvering his battered body to lift off the ground, the combination of the jostling of his wounded ribs, wrist and leg became too much for him to endure, and he finally lost the battle, falling limp in their arms.

“Iris… Iris. Hey.”

Stirring from the sound of a voice Iris felt herself frown, moaning at them to go away as she fidgeted from the uncomfortable position on the floor. Even though she had rested she didn’t feel like she slept at all, thoughts of Caspain haunting her dreams and then thoughts of what was going to happen to her. Opening her eyes, she grimaced feeling the cold hard floor against her, sitting up she didn’t recall coming to this room but then everything felt like a blur. Startled it took her a moment to realise she wasn’t alone, and she looked towards the rebel that was in the room. “W-What.”

“Hey no, don’t worry. It’s okay. I’m not here to do anything. Remember me? I’m good friends with Maisie and you once.”

“O-Oh… no I’m really sorry. I feel like I should know you.” Iris frowned as the rebel placed down some sort of plate with food and water onto a table, it was then she realised she was in some sort of bedroom. Much better than the cell she had been in with Caspain. Caspain… he.. no. Maybe he’s not. Pushing those thoughts back down already feeling it upset her at the idea he had been killed last night.

“Yeah I heard… amnesia. My mother suffered with something similar. She never remembered everything. I’m sorry. Look… I just. I don’t know what Ethans plans are with you, but it can’t be good. I’ve never seen someone so obsessed before.” Nodding to the table the rebel then took a seat on the bed, “Just be ready to run.”

“I… I can’t. Caspain… they, I can’t leave his body here it’s not right.” Choking at her own words as Iris had already made her mind up to try and give him a proper burial, it wouldn’t be fancy nor what he deserved but she didn’t want Ethan having his hands on it. Already she felt her eyes well up with tears, the thought of him being dead still fresh. “Plus… I made a promise…”

“He’s not dead. Ethan hasn’t been given the all clear to kill him yet, they want to try again today to get the information they want out of him. If he doesn’t comply today… well then…”

“But the gunshots… I thought…” Stuttering as she started to feel a weight lift from her chest at the idea he was still alive.

“No. I mean he’s pretty hurt. He will need a lot of help if you plan to escape here together. They shot him in the leg.” Shaking his head as he grimaced, Sven was quite squeamish when it came to things like blood, so he didn’t want to think on how they had spent the evening cleaning him up. “Look, I’ve brought food and a bit of a warning. You should get yourself ready for the day and wear what they gave you. I don’t know how I can help, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you?”

“Sven. Have a think maybe you’ll remember me.” Grinning as he pushed himself off of the bed holding his hand up in a wave, “Maisie surely will if you mention my name~” Leaving the bedroom he locked the door behind him knowing he had too, it was orders after all.

Sighing heavily Iris picked herself from the floor, her head was swimming because Caspain wasn’t dead? Feeling an ache in her heart she clutched her chest as she moved over to the plate of food, he was hurt though. Determined she forced herself to eat the little food supplied, two slices of bread and water to wash it down with. Needing the energy as she still had time to break him out.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Caspian drifted in and out of consciousness, aware that he had been moved to a different room but unable to focus well enough to determine where he was. He spent most of the time asleep, reluctant to fully wake up because wakefulness brought him nothing but pain. Every once in a while, he stirred at the sound of a voice or the grating of a cell door as other people entered and exited his metal cage to check on his condition, but each time, he was greeted with a fresh surge of agony that dragged him back down into the realm of unconsciousness yet again.

Between bouts of rest, he found it odd that the rebels were keeping him alive. Sometimes they inspected his wounded leg, while other times they tried to force him to drink small cups of water when they visited. He’d been convinced that they were going to kill him, especially after Ethan had threatened to do so on multiple occasions. However, it seemed like they still had something to gain from him. Probably information, he guessed. Even though he’d made it as clear as he could that he wasn’t going to tell them anything, they must have decided that he would be easier to break now that he’d been through one round of torture already. Perhaps that would have been true if he believed they would allow him to leave if he gave up what he knew, but since he was one hundred percent sure he was going to die in this prison, he was going to take whatever else they put him through until they eventually gave up and killed him.

So, prepared to go through the same torment all over again, he slept almost constantly in a feeble attempt to recover from his existing injuries before Ethan came back for him. He managed not to fully wake until the next day, though he had no idea what time it was because of the lack of windows in his cell. As always, consciousness brought with it the same excruciating pain that he felt whenever he was aware of his surroundings. Every breath he took burned like fire, and his entire body ached in its own form of torture. He couldn’t move his right hand, the one Ethan had broken at the wrist, and his leg still throbbed deeply as if the wound there was reverberating from the initial blast he’d felt when the bullet had pierced his flesh.

More uncomfortable than he’d ever been in his life, Cas moaned as he forced himself to open his eyes at least partially, so he could try to catch up on what he’d missed when he’d been out. Upon looking around with an unfocused gaze, he realized the rebels had brought him back to his cell. The cold gray walls and steel bed were familiar. Weakly, he turned his head slightly so he could look down at himself. The guards had placed him on his back, and he could see that his the jeans he’d been wearing had been replaced with old, ragged shorts. His left leg was streaked with blood—apparently they hadn’t thought it was important enough for him to be cleaned off—and a set of stained bandages were wrapped tightly around the entrance point of the bullet that had struck him.

While he looked at the wound, he grimaced as another wave of pain coursed through him from the shot limb. Belatedly, he realized that it seemed like he only had one open wound in his leg. That meant the bullet was still lodged somewhere inside of him. The thought made him feel nauseated, but it explained why he was still so sore. He assumed the rebels hadn’t thought it was important to thoroughly treat his injury either, since they were just going to kill him when they were done using him. They had only bothered to make sure he was in a stable enough condition that he wouldn’t die before they could end him on their terms.

How thoughtful, he mused dryly, letting his head fall back down on the bed and fixing his dark eyes on the ceiling. Laying still, he began to contemplate whether or not he should go back to sleep when he felt the bed beneath him suddenly rumble. The motion was faint, but it was just present enough to draw his attention. He glanced at the hallway on the other side of his cell and saw that the nearest guards had begun looking around and muttering amongst themselves.

It’s like that bottle of water that was shaking just before the bombers showed up in Bel Bicis, he thought, wincing with another wave of pain. Something was going on, and judging by the looks on the rebels’ faces, it wasn’t something they were expecting. He just wished he wasn’t immobilized, so he could figure out what was happening.

I guess at least I can shower. I might as well make the most of it. Iris thought to herself as she caught site of a bathroom that was attached to the bedroom she had been given. Right now, she was of no use to anyone, nothing was happening so she thought to take a shower especially as she could assess any injuries she had gained. Already she could tell her throat was swollen, it was easier to talk today that was certain, but it hadn’t fully healed from the tight strangling she had received yesterday from Ethan. As she moved herself into the bathroom, she could see the mirror on top of the sink, and she grimaced at the sight of her neck. Clear hand marked bruises covered her pale skin, colours of blues, purples and reds all in a shape of hands. It made her feel sick looking at the damage he had caused, it made her wonder how she could ever have dated him.

It hadn’t taken her long to clean herself up in the shower, the feel of the cool water against her tender skin had hurt so she didn’t spend too long in the shower. Using the towel to dry off her hair she looked at the box she had been given yesterday, words reminding her that she had to wear it. It would be easier than facing whatever punishment Ethan would do to her for not complying. Now she had to keep herself alert, fully ready for whatever chance of escape she could make for her and Caspain. Leaning down she opened up the box to reveal a pale pink summer style dress, rolling her eyes as she resided her to wearing such a thing as it wasn’t practical for running. Ethan just wanted her to dress up for him, that was all it was.

Sighing heavily as she rose to her full height now dressed in the pale pink number, the dress was some sort of chiffon material and clearly cost a pretty penny. A part of her wondered where they had got the funds, but then Ethan was sneaky. Feeling her damp hair fall past her shoulders she looked at the door as she heard a commotion. Stopping in her tracks she glanced up at the ceiling seeing some sort of dust fall down and a low rumble it reminded her of Bel Bicis. Frowning she knew something wasn’t right and by the sounds of the shouts outside she wasn’t the only one.

Running to the door she pressed her ear against the wood listening to the shouts outside, something about an attack. Ethan wasn’t here yet. Shaking her head, she tried the handle grumbling as it didn’t open. Though before she could even process her thoughts on what to do next a click could be heard, and the sound of metal dropped to the floor. Slowly creaking the door open she glanced outside seeing rebels run around and all heading towards the cause of the commotion not paying one bit of attention to her. Looking down to the floor she could see a set of keys and realised that had to be the sound of metal dropping. Cas.

Without hesitating she broke out into a sprint snatching the keys into her hand as she raced back the way she remembered being taken too. Luck was on her side because there were no rebels around on this route, they had to be preoccupied with whatever was going on which suited her. Racing to his cell she felt her heart drop at the site of him, he looked close to death and she had to get him out. “Cas! It’s now or never.” Breathing out as she unlocked his cell moving inside to help him to his feet, she would have to support him most of the way but at least the Capital would not be far. The border was not far from here and she could taste the freedom.

Shortly after the rumbling began, Caspian began to hear the sounds of voices shouting beyond his cell. He turned his head toward the open slats between the bars, increasingly bemused by the eruption of noise beyond his line of sight. As far as he could tell, it didn’t seem like the rebels had expected it either, which led him to guess that the source must have been something to do with the Aspirian military. His heart fluttered at the thought. On one hand, he was excited by the prospect that he would be found and rescued from the grisly fate that awaited him as a prisoner of the Scourge. However, he was equally as worried that something would go wrong in the supposed ambush.

If the soldiers weren’t expecting him to be there, they would think to look closely at his face before they fired their weapons. He could still be shot accidentally by a gunman with an itchy trigger finger, landing him in the same situation he would have been in with Ethan. And even if they did recognize him and help him escape from the rebels, he might be separated from Iris. He hadn’t seen her since he had been dragged off for his interrogation, and he didn’t know where to look to find her again. He doubted the soldiers would be patient enough to let him wander the prison in an aimless search for her during the middle of a raid. It was more likely that they would force him to go with them and leave her behind. It was just as likely that they would mistake her for a member of the rebellion and kill her too.

With a shudder, he shifted his good arm and rolled his ankles, testing his range of mobility. Even small motions pained him, and he bit his lip to stifle a whimper. Frustration coursed through him with the realization that he could barely move and was in no condition to look for Iris, even if the soldiers allowed him to do so. He was going to have no choice but to go with them, and that was only if they didn’t kill him on sight. Knowing that he couldn’t do anything to save himself or her made him feel helpless.

Wallowing in his dispiritedness, he didn’t notice that someone had approached his cell until he heard the grating of metal on metal, signaling the opening of the door. The sound surprised him, since he’d thought the rebels would have forgotten about him in the midst of an attack. Maybe they want to move me to another location, so they won’t lose the ‘information’ they think they can get out of me, he theorized as he turned his head back toward the entrance of the concrete room. However, as soon as he laid eyes on the person who’d stepped inside, he raised his brows in shock.

“Iris?” he rasped, baffled by her sudden appearance. Dozens of questions began to flit through his mind as she rushed toward him. Where had she gone when the guard had taken her away from him? How was she walking around the prison without anyone keeping an eye on her? Why was she wearing a dress? The onslaught of confusion tied his tongue, and he couldn’t ask any of the inquiries except for the most prominent of all: “How did you get the key to my cell?”

As she helped him get up from the bed, an agonized expression contorted his face. Everything hurt, and his vision swam as stabbing pain flooded his body. “Slow,” he gasped, unable to string together a more coherent request. The urgency of the situation hadn’t slipped by him, but he wasn’t in any condition to hurry. If he was going to get out of the prison with her and dodge the military, he was going to have to do so at a limited speed.

Carefully, he managed to get his feet underneath him, leaning heavily on his right leg since the left couldn’t support his weight. He was precariously unbalanced, but it was going to have to do for now. “Where are we going?” he asked, glancing at Iris as he held onto her with his left arm. The stab wound in his bicep burned, but ironically, it was one of the least of his concerns compared to his broken bones and bullet wound.

“Oh Cas… look at you.” Iris felt her lower lip tremble at the sight of him as she rushed over to help him up, slipping her body under his arm so she could support him on the way out as she could see the wound on his leg. “I thought… I honestly thought they’d killed you when I heard the gunshots.” The fact he was here alive was amazing, it was such a rush to know he was still alive and fighting and she couldn’t wait to use this opportunity to get him out of here. Grimacing herself as she tried to help him, she could tell this was not going to be easy and they would have to take it slow as she was supporting him, and she wasn’t overly strong.

“I had help. That rebel that had shouted my name helped me, apparently we were friends once. I don't remember it...” Iris was certain it had been him who had dropped the key. Even though she hadn’t seen the culprit of who had dropped the key she was certain it had to be him, who else would want to help them?

Taking it at a steady pace she glanced up hearing a rumble course through the building reminding them that they were still in an urgent situation. Moving out of the cell Iris began to guide him through the halls, hoping she was going the right way. Iris didn’t know for certain if she was going the right way, but she had decided to lead them back the way they had come from in hopes it was the right direction. It was their best shot right now. It seemed that no one was too fussed with their direction, the fight was on the top floors so maybe it had been an aerial attack? The prison did have a flat roof meaning that some sort of plane could land on top.

“I don’t know where I am taking us, but I just feel we need to be out of here. What if it’s not the military, if I knew for certain it was then maybe it would be best to let them find you… I just don’t want to take that risk. I want to get you far away from here, from Ethan because it only means certain death for you.” Iris could feel her voice wavering as she spoke, it was still raspy in places and painful from Ethan, but she would get by. “I do feel you should go back to the Capital though. There is no way I can treat those wounds.”

It felt like a steady pace and she was glad that she could help, supporting him best she could she caught sight of some doors feeling relieved that this could be their ticket out of there. Though a small part of her was nagging her that this had been too easy, no one had come to look for Caspain or her. No one had run into them. Reaching the door, she opened it up slowly revealing the daylight, sun shinning through as she creaked it open further. As the door opened a loud rumble could be heard as the building shook. Shouts could be heard outside and she felt her heart stop, wondering if this was the end and that they had been caught.

“REBELS ON THE ROOF. SHOOT TO KILL.”

Biting her lip as she heard the shout, she could see two armed military men on the ground, not in their line of sight but looking to be at the front entrance of the building. Somehow by some miracle she had managed to lead her through the back entrance. They hadn’t been seen yet and no one looked to be around the back entrance, but then all the action appeared to be at the front and the roof. Guns could be heard, shouts and cries as a battle ensued. Feeling herself tremble as she gripped at Cas just a little tighter, she was scared, this was a war in front of their eyes and some of the screams could have come from people who had been killed. We will be killed if we don’t move. Steadying herself she went to take a step but froze at the next words that could be heard shouting from one of the military guards.

“GIVE US BACK THE PRINCES BODY YOU MURDEROUS SCUM.”

At the moment, Cas couldn’t think clearly enough to try to remember the rebel Iris was talking about, but that didn’t matter. He was just relieved that someone had been willing to help them get out of the prison. If they had been left to their own devices, he was sure he would still be locked up, waiting for his death, and she would have been off wherever Ethan’s henchman had taken her after they’d parted. It was almost hard to believe that they were about to escape for a second time. It was lucky that Iris had friends in high places, even if she’d forgotten all of their names and faces due to her amnesia.

Balancing precariously against her side, he limped with her out of the cell and into the hallway, unable to pay attention to where they were headed as he focused on holding himself upright. Trying to walk was even more excruciating than laying down had been, and he felt dizzy as they hurried to get out of the building. He just hoped she knew where she was going, since his sense of direction was in shambles in the labyrinth of hallways they traveled through. All he could do was follow her lead and pray they wouldn’t be spotted by rebels or soldiers. They were painfully vulnerable at the moment, so all it would take was one quick-drawing gunman to kill them both where they stood.

Doing his best to keep watch for movement in the adjacent corridors that they passed, he listened as Iris explained that she didn’t know where she was taking him. It wasn’t that surprising, since they had been wandering rather aimlessly before the rebels had caught them, but he agreed with the sentiment of wanting to get as far away as possible. He’d had more close encounters with death in one week than he wanted to face again until he reached old age. However, when she added that she thought he should go back to the capital, he stiffened. Being tortured by Ethan hadn’t increased his desire to return to the city he’d come from at all. If anything, he resented the people who had left him behind even more now.

He’d been to hell and back, and not a single person cared except for the woman underneath his arm. Returning to them was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t know how he would even face his father now that he’d built up so much resentment towards the man, let alone agree to go back to being his heir. However, he was in too much pain to voice his opinion. Putting all of his strength into escaping with her, he decided privately that it would just be best for them to worry about getting away before he confessed that he didn’t want to go back to the capital. Even if the high borns had the best medicine in the country, it wasn’t worth letting them turn him into their puppet again, to be used and thrown away.

Unable to reply, he said nothing as they worked their way through the halls, dodging the fights that had broken out in other parts of the building. Absently, he found it impressive that Iris managed to get them so far without running into trouble. He couldn’t tell if she was doing it on purpose or if they had just gotten lucky, but when they eventually reached a door that led to the courtyard, he felt relief wash over him. It looked like they were going to make it.

Hurrying as quickly as his battered body was capable of moving, he walked with her outside and then jumped at the sound of a booming voice. Someone was close by, but when he turned his head to look, he saw that the soldier that had spoken was fixated on the upper part of the prison. Seeing members of the Aspirian military stirred mixed feelings inside of him. Half of him wanted to run away before they spotted him, like a dog that had been abused and no longer trusted its master, but another half of him was tempted to run toward them in the hope that they would offer him and Iris their protection.

Ultimately, the former emotion won out, and he tugged weakly on her shoulders to urge her to keep moving. However, before they could put any more distance between themselves and the fighting, he faltered at the next roar that came out of the soldier’s mouth. Prince’s body? He echoed to himself, dumbfounded by the two words. Do they think I’m dead? Why? As far as he knew, the military hadn’t kept tabs on his location since he’d been abducted, and even if they had, he couldn’t think of a reason why they would think that the rebels had already killed him. But he’d heard the other man loud and clear.

Abruptly, he felt lightheaded as the realization that the military thought he was dead crashed into him like a freight train. If they thought he was dead, that meant his father thought the same thing. Everything suddenly made much more sense. The king hadn’t been looking for him because he was under the impression that he’d been killed, not because he’d abandoned him. Oh my god, I had it all wrong, he thought with wide eyes. That was probably why there had been more attacks on the other districts too. His father was coming down on the rebellion with an iron fist because he thought they had murdered his son. This was revenge.

“Iris, they think I’m dead,” he breathed, turning to her urgently. Talking pained him, but he couldn’t leave without addressing the new information. It changed everything. “I-I think I need to show them that I’m still alive. They don’t—my father doesn’t know. That’s why he wasn’t looking for me. If I go to them, they can help us.”

Noting how quiet Caspain was Iris tried her best to keep supporting them, hoping that she was alleviating some of the pressure from his wounds. Iris couldn’t imagine what it was like to be shot, it had to be painful, but she couldn’t help but admire his will power to keep moving. Whether it was because of the adrenaline or the need to survive she didn’t know, but it showed just what the human body could experience and what it could be pushed too in order to survive. It was a surprise to herself that she could help support his weight as they stumbled around together, it wasn’t easy that was certain, but the need to survive had won that fight.

Feeling the weak tug on her shoulders urging her to move on she went to take a step, the booming voice however had other plans for them because what they had heard was a game changer. The Princes body, they thought he was dead. It all seemed to fall into place, the idea that Capital, his father all thought he was dead, and this was why he hadn’t been found. They weren’t looking for an alive hostage, no. They were looking for his dead body. The thought sent shivers through her and as much as she had suggested he go back to the Capital, this changed everything.

Under his weight she could feel her body tremble slightly at the fact they hadn’t moved, keeping on the move had been helpful to keep going. It was easier putting one foot in front of the other rather than standing still supporting them both. Her mind began to race, the prospect of taking him to the leader, thinking they could help but then the danger of approaching armed military men when he didn’t look like the Prince from appearance. The scruffy beaten and bruised male that she was supporting was definitely the Prince but calling attention to themselves whilst they were at a distance felt like an invitation of open bullets being sprayed their way. It’s a risk we may have to take. For him.

“Cas, I don’t know if drawing attention to us would be best, they are armed and from afar they could mistake you for an injured rebel and shoot. Putting you out of your misery. I’m… all for it, you going back to the Capital, but maybe the quickest way is not the best way.” Leading him a little bit away out of the sight of the shouting men there was a fence leading to the district not far from here, if they were spotted it could be dangerous and the Prince really would be dead.

“I just… they aren’t expecting you alive. Surely the border patrol will be better, more reasonable and no doubt there would be someone who would recognise you there. They’ve probably increased security there. What if that Jacob is there? He’d know it’s you.” Recalling the name of one of the security team that had accompanied Caspain on a few occasions, perhaps he was at the border orchestrating his fathers will of destroying the districts that had killed his son.

“The border is an hour away max; I can get you there. I promise you I will get you there and to safety. To your home.” Iris could feel her voice wavering at her words, feeling so many different emotions over what could happen next. They had to part, there was no question about it. There was no way she could get near the Capital because they’d assume, she was part of the rebellion, they had to know she was the daughter of the leader by now especially with names being revealed. Ultimately this had been her fault, she would have to punished for it and quite rightly because had she not made that choice in the woods none of this would have happened.

Forcing herself to not look back on the prison she kept to her word, leading him away from the military that could have helped but there was no way of knowing that. Grimacing as the shouts continued behind her, gun shots and strangled cries. As distance was being put between them, she could here members of the rebellion cry back stating how they’d never give his body up. Fighting words being thrown between them as she had to steady her own feet when she felt the ground tremble at the sound of a large crash followed by sounds of a structure starting to collapse.

When Iris pointed out that calling attention to themselves might not be the best idea, Cas frowned. He supposed he hadn’t really thought the plan through, but he also wasn’t used to seeing the soldiers in Aspirian colors as his enemies. As the crown prince of the kingdom, they had been on his side for his entire life. Even as a child, he’d been around soldiers who were stationed to guard the capital, and he’d grown accustomed to seeking them out if he needed something or had a task for them to do. It was their duty to serve the royal family.

However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Iris was probably right. Under normal circumstances the soldiers around them now would have leapt to his defense, whisking him back to the capital to be protected from the rebellion and given medical attention. If they thought he was dead, though, they probably wouldn’t wait long enough to hear him out or allow him to get close enough that someone might recognize his face. They would assume he was another rebel and shoot him before they could see the whites of his eyes.

Knowing that the people he’d relied on before couldn’t be expected to save him now stung, but he knew there was nothing to argue about. Trying to confront them anyway would most likely just get them both killed. “Okay,” he murmured in resignation, allowing her to lead him away from the prison. Until now, he’d oscillated between going back to the capital and leaving for good, but now that he knew his father had been under the impression that he was dead, he felt like he had to go back. It was all a big misunderstanding that needed to be corrected. He didn’t expect every high born to be thrilled to see him again—though they would act like it—but he still had the people who were closest to him in his life. His family and friends had to know he wasn’t dead.

Not yet, anyway, he thought as he peered over his shoulder, watching the building collapse behind them. Yet again, they had narrowly escaped being crushed by an imploding structure. At least when they got to the capital, they would no longer have to worry about getting caught up in the civil war. That was one benefit of leaving the other districts, even thought they would have other problems to worry about when they got there.

For one thing, he still had no idea what was going to happen to Iris when they arrived. He didn’t want to part ways with her, so he intended to do whatever he could to bring her inside the walls of the city with him, but she wasn’t going to be received well by the high borns or his father. It would be an uphill battle just to get her settled in, let alone convince the king to let them be together. He just hoped Atlas would be a little more receptive to the idea since she was the one helping him get home.

For a while, Cas didn’t talk as he focused on trying to keep up with Iris as they headed away from the rebels’ base. However, it didn’t take more than half an hour before his pain escalated enough that he couldn’t carry himself any further. His injured leg felt like it was on fire and his chest mirrored the sensation. He breathed heavily and had to lean more of his weight into her side to hold himself upright. “I have to stop,” he panted, sagging against her shoulder. As much as he wanted to get to their destination and be done with it all, he was reaching his limit and needed to take a break before they continued.

With a groan, he pulled away from her and dropped clumsily to the ground, trying to keep his weight on his right side to avoid putting pressure on his left. “Sorry,” he mumbled, dragging his left hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. Speaking was still painful, but he managed to string together something somewhat meaningful as he added between breaths, “Hurts too much… I need to sit.”

The way they had escaped death so many times was like a miracle, it was pretty amazing how they had narrowly avoided it so many times and she knew that they weren’t going to keep getting out of it easy. Their luck was bound to run out but there was slither of hope in the fact that before that she could get him to the Capital. All she needed was to get him home, for him to be in the Capital, safe and sound. Not worrying about when his next meal was, or who was next out to kill him. Worrying about avoiding the rebels, shelter and his injuries that would only get worse not being treated. This was not the life for him, and it should never be.

Caspain was right. We shouldn’t have gone back together. He will go back to the Capital… I can’t go there. No matter what he says about fighting for us… it won’t. We can’t. Not after everything. Already she could feel her thoughts taking a downturn, as if she was setting up herself for the worst. As if by thinking it would help the idea of them having to part at the border, that she had to let him go because there was no future for them. It won’t work will it? There it was the little bit of doubt that was nagging her because she wanted it to work, she really cared for him. It wasn’t just that though, she knew she loved him. Although they both had admitted it under circumstances of facing death, she felt like it was true, she knew it was true deep down, but maybe it means I do have to let him go.

It seemed like they were both focused on moving, walking at a pace to get out of there because the silence between them was deafening. Though it didn’t last too long as about halfway she heard him speak up again and she had nearly forgotten the kind of injuries he was facing, it was silly to think they could just run to the border without having to stop. Though thankfully they had put enough distance for her to feel safe, glancing around she couldn’t see anyone following them. “I’m so sorry, it must hurt.”

Watching as he dropped to the floor she kneeled down by his side as concern filled her eyes, afraid that if she touched him, he would just break. “Don’t apologise, of course it hurts. I shouldn’t have kept pushing us.” Tugging at the long sleeves of her pale pink dress she moved over him at dabbed his forehead to help with any residue sweat. “I wish I had some water for you.” Letting her hand drop she reached out grabbing his hand gently in hers smiling, trying to keep positive because she only felt like the end for them was coming.

“I can keep watch; do you want to try and rest? Sleeping could help. It’s meant to start the recovery progress and then we can look at moving later.” No matter what time they did have left together she would keep him as safe as she could. With the attack on prison she was certain that the rebels would be more preoccupied with that disaster rather than following them. Did the rebels even know they were gone? Perhaps they thought they were dead in the crumbled building as no one came for them. “We must be about halfway now; you will be home soon. I promise.”