Cas glanced at Iris when she knelt beside him and then turned away again as he tried to get his ragged breathing back under control. He didn’t think she had anything to apologize for, since getting to the border of the capital was their top priority that day. If he hadn’t been in so much pain, he would have wanted to push through too. It was only because of his severe injuries that he’d been forced to give in and stop to recover his strength before they kept moving. He hated that he wasn’t able to keep up with even the slow pace she was setting as they made their way toward their destination.

His dark eyes flicked to her face again as she spoke about water before he peered over his shoulder, warily keeping watch for pursuers. It had been a while since the last time he’d had anything to drink, but that wasn’t the most pressing of priorities at the moment. When they got to the capital, he would be able to have water and be treated for the injuries he’d received since he’d left. What they needed to worry about was making sure they were able to reach the city in one piece. Self-care could wait, but they wouldn’t have selves to take care of if the rebels found them again and killed them before they made it to safety.

So, when she suggested that he could take a nap to recover faster, he shook his head. “No, I’m not going to sleep,” he replied, turning back to her determinedly. “I’ll rest after we get there.” If he’d had the breath, he would have explained himself further, but that was the most he could muster with his broken ribs. Aside from the looming threat of the rebels, he was also concerned that if he fell asleep, he wouldn’t be able to get back up again very easily. The last time he’d laid down, he had barely been able to pull himself upright. Even though he was sore, he had to stay awake, so he could keep moving quickly if they needed to.

Knowing that they were already halfway there was reassuring. As he looked himself over, he could see that his condition was rapidly deteriorating again, especially the injury to his leg. Apparently it had been hurting him because the bleeding had started up again as he’d walked on it. The bandages that the rebels had wrapped around his thigh were already stained red, and viscous liquid welled around the bottom edge of the cloth. If he hadn’t been so dehydrated, it probably would have started spilling over by now.

He grimaced at the sight and took a slow breath, trying to focus on anything but the pain that kept him down. He reminded himself that even though his whole body ached, he was just thirty minutes away from finding relief. They just needed to get to the border of the capital, and he could stop running altogether. They were so close.

Encouraged by the thought, he only spent about ten minutes resting before he shifted his weight on the ground to get up. “Ready now,” he told Iris shortly, saving his breath for the rest of the trip. “Help me up?” Usually he would have tried to take care of himself, but he knew he was in no condition to stand without assistance, so he set his pride aside and held out his good hand to her.

Iris tried to smile as she watched Cas take a bit of a break from the movement they had done; it was a lot to be pushing him through and she worried about his health. The thought of getting him back to the Capital was still weighing her down, she knew it was the right thing to do but at the same time she was worried about what could happen next. It would probably mean the end for them; she could feel the pit in her stomach because it was most likely to happen, and she knew deep down it would be for the best. He was better off in the Capital; he’d be better off with everything there as the district life is for no one in it's current state.

Nibbling the bottom of her lip as she could see the blood on his leg, the wound had not healed, and she could see the bandages were just about keeping it together. Things seemed dire because they were stuck, the order wasn’t too far but there was no guarantee that anyone would be willing to help at the border especially because they thought he was dead. “It doesn’t look good at all. You need help, actual medicine which I don’t have. We don’t have here.” Frowning as she looked around the area happy that no one had appeared to follow them, but there was always the fear.

“You sure?” Hearing him say he was ready to forward she was nervous because she didn’t want him getting worse. Though staying where they were wouldn’t help at all because they’d be at risk and Caspain was already bleeding. The loss of blood would be worse and it potential it could mean there was a chance of him losing that leg if untreated. There was nothing in the district they could do for these wounds, not when Ethan and the rebels were around trying to kill him and potentially her.

Leaning down she took him by the arm and moved it over her shoulder helping him up, it took a few minutes to get him on his feet and she shifted her weight underneath him, so he felt supported. “Let’s go.” Determined she pushed them forward at a steady pace, nothing too slow and again not too fast because she didn’t want to push him not with his current injuries. If his body went into shock that would spell out more trouble for them and she wouldn’t know what to do. If his body went into shock and he couldn’t move there was no way she could get him to the bored. On top of that she wouldn’t be able to call for help, no one at the border would believe her and if she left him alone there was a risk of someone finding him and just killing him.

Moving on she kept walking holding him firmly as they moved, her heart was racing away as they kept moving. Right now, it was such a rush, she could barely think straight as her main focus became getting Caspain to the border, hoping that someone was there who would recognise him and get help quickly. Already her body began to shake underneath him as she supported most of his weight, her own energy draining but she kept willing herself forward. “Just a bit longer, nearly there. I promise.”

As if on queue they started to reach a clearing, high fencing and a small tower were a guard would usually sit watching the border. The fence looked a bit ragged, broken in places which only signalled how easy it was to slip into the Capitals forest from the districts if guards weren’t paying attention. “Look, we are here.” As if trying to spur Caspain on she didn’t stop walking, she continued helping him towards the tower that hopefully a guard would be sat in watching. Praying to herself that they didn’t get shot on sight.

Cas nodded resolutely when Iris asked if he was sure. If he’d had a choice, he would have preferred not to move anymore, but they didn’t have the luxury of waiting around for him to heal. The only way he would recover was with medical treatment, and the only place to get that was at the capital. As much as it hurt, he had to keep moving, so they could make it there before anyone else from the rebellion spotted them, and they would lose what seemed to be their last chance of escaping.

Forcing himself up from the ground, he leaned against Iris as she took his arm and braced his body against hers. He hadn’t thought much about it before, but he was impressed with her stamina. He was larger than she was and weighed more, so it had to be difficult for her to half-carry him all the way from the prison to the capital, but he hadn’t heard her complain once or ask to take any breaks. Knowing she had to be getting tired too, he did his best to match her steady pace as they continued to walk toward the center of the kingdom. When they arrived, he planned to make sure the guards took her someplace where she could get some decent rest after everything she had done to help him get away from the Scourge.

The remainder of the trip was arduous and felt longer than it probably was. Cas stumbled a few times, quickly losing what remained of his energy until he was left panting and struggling not to buckle beneath the pain of his wounds. Darkness rimmed the edges of his vision, and he could tell that if they didn’t arrive soon, he wasn’t going to make it. Blood trickled down his leg, the bandages too thoroughly saturated to contain it anymore, and his lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. However, just as he was beginning to lose hope, he heard Iris say that they were there.

Weak with relief, he looked up from the ground to see that they had arrived at the border. The wall that separated the city of high borns from the rest of the country was just up ahead. Thank god, he thought dizzily, spurred onward by the sight. He hadn’t thought he would be so happy to see the capital again after all he’d been through in the last week, but at that moment, the looming towers were a promise of sanctuary, and that was just what he needed after being captured and tortured by two different groups of rebels.

Meanwhile, just beyond the fence line, the guards who had been stationed to work that day were monitoring their computer screens for signs of intrusion. The team that had been assigned to this section of the border had been “let go” and replaced the same day the prince’s absence had been noticed. No one had seen or heard from any of them since then, and rumor had it that the king had quietly executed them for their incompetence. As such, the new soldiers were dedicated to their jobs, constantly observing the area in shifts and instating plans to have the dilapidated fence line replaced with a sturdier stone wall.

That day, Jacob had stopped by to check on their work. Since the incident, the king had placed him in charge of updating the capital’s security, especially at the site of his son’s abduction. It was his responsibility to make sure no one was slacking off, since that had been the reason for the loss of the crown prince in the first place. Twice a week, he reviewed their reports and ran diagnostics tests on their equipment, ensuring that everything was fully functioning before he would return to the palace to resume leading the royal security team. It was a lot to do in one day, but it was necessary work, so he handled all of it without griping.

Examining the infrared system that had recently been installed, he sat near the back of the room while the soldiers went about their business independently, putting on a hell of a display of pointing out anything that could be conceived as movement and discussing whether or not they should send someone to investigate it. He knew they were just trying to impress him, but their over-the-top “attentiveness” began to grate on his nerves after a while.

As they pointed out yet another “possible intruder” he groaned and tilted his head back in exasperation. “It’s a waste of manpower to send a scout every time you morons see a god damn squirrel outside,” he chided them bluntly. “Keep your asses in your seats unless you see something worth looking at.”

His sharp tone seemed to catch the soldiers off guard, and they fell quiet simultaneously, returning to their work. The silence was relieving to Jacob, and he fixed his attention on the infrared again, checking each camera to make sure they were all properly wired until his task was interrupted again by a voice.

“Look, someone’s approaching from the east.”

“Seriously? The son of a bitch isn’t even trying to sneak up on us. Is he stupid?”

“I think there are actually two of them… See? That one is carrying the other.”

“Think they’re here for medical attention or trying to trick us?”

“Who cares? They can’t come in. Let’s just gun them down.”

“What’s going on over there?” Jacob knitted his brows, abandoning the infrared to step over to the monitors. Leaning over them, he squinted slightly as he located the figures the other guards were talking about. He could see what they meant when they said that one of them looked injured. Between the two, one person was clearly supporting the other on the screen. He wondered why they were trying to do by approaching the fence.

On the ground, Cas could feel his heart flutter with nervous excitement as they drew nearer to the border. He couldn’t see any soldiers at the city line, but he knew there had to be some nearby. Every part of the capital was defended by trained guards. He just hoped they would wait long enough to recognize him before they drew their weapons.

Trying to hasten his pace in his eagerness to get to safety, his breath hitched as an especially sharp burst of pain resonated from his leg. Apparently moving faster hadn’t been good for the open wound. The stabbing sensation made him feel even more lightheaded than he already was, and he staggered, fighting the overwhelming urge to black out. They were so close to the capital. He couldn’t give up with just meters to go. However, his body betrayed him as his legs gave way, and he slipped from Iris’s side, dropping heavily to the ground.

Jacob watched the scene from the tower and narrowed his eyes contemplatively. Something about the man who’d fallen almost seemed familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He leaned even closer, ignoring the way the blue light of the monitor glared harshly against his eyes. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d met him before. Maybe it was a known and wanted fugitive, or a rebel whose photo he’d memorized before. He mulled over it for about a minute before he caught a glimpse of the man’s face.

No way. Shock gripped him as he finally realized who he was looking at. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Prince Caspian was alive.

“Tower seven to team Sierra Foxtrot forty-one, we have a couple of trespassers approaching the eastern wall. Shoot to kill.”

At the sound of the order, Jacob’s eyes widened, and he snatched the com device out of the soldier’s hand. “Sierra Foxtrot forty-one, this is Curry. Hold your fire,” he barked before shooting the other guard a scathing look. “You imbecile, take a closer look at the screen. One of them isn’t a rebel.”

The soldier stared at him for a moment before he did as he was told. He turned to the monitor and looked at it for a long moment before he inhaled sharply, “Is that…”

“It is,” Jacob confirmed with a curt nod. “His Highness’s son is alive, but by the looks of him, just barely.” Lifting the com device to his mouth again, he sent the team another order, “Stand down. That’s our missing prince out there.” Quickly, he tossed the device on the desk and turned around to jog for the door, doling out more commands as he went, “Someone call an ambulance! And I want two of you to come with me. I don’t know who he’s with, but we can’t take any chances.” Drawing his own gun from its holster, he made a dash for the elevator that would take him down to the base level, followed closely by a pair of soldiers.

“Put your hands up,” Cas warned Iris quickly, glancing up at her from the ground. They were in the direct line of sight of the nearest watch tower, and he didn’t want her to be shot while he struggled to get up again. If the military jumped to the conclusion that they were terrorists, they wouldn’t have a chance to defend themselves. Concerned for her safety, he pressed his good hand down and groaned as he tried to lift himself into a sitting position so they could keep moving. Unfortunately, he found that it was too difficult, and he collapsed again just as a group of soldiers came sprinting toward them from the door at the base of the structure.

“Don’t move!” one of them snapped, lifting his gun and aiming it at Iris. “Stay where you are, or I’ll shoot.”

“You’re going to make it. You will make it. You can’t die.” Iris kept saying those words to Cas as if it would spur them on and keep them going. They had to make it after all of this and she would be devastated if he didn’t make it, if he died after all of this she wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt because it would keep her awake every night. The fact his bandages were soaked with blood only made things worse, it only showed them how very little time they had left and if he didn’t get treated it would be worse.

There was a sense of relief knowing they had made it to the border, but it wouldn’t be simple and in fact a feel of dread began to creep up on her. For one there were no guards apparent and it felt eerie. Though thinking on it she hadn’t really known there to be much of guards around here. Usually the guard stationed was either napping, drunk or too busy entertaining someone else to even bother with the rebels. The guard could also be bought with the right price, that’s probably what lead to one of their breaches of security in the first place. Glancing at the fence she already knew that was were she had snuck through before, that very fence that led towards the forests of the Capital. The fence that had been broken for years, no sign of repair or any sort of TLC.

Thoughts ran through her mind of what if they were about to be gunned down, she could imagine someone just shooting them down from way up there and that would be the end of them. Their struggles would all be for nothing and as they approached, she felt herself stumble a little with the little energy she had left. A part of her just wanted to let the exhaustion take over, sleep taking her as whatever happened did and she could just stay blissfully unaware. That was not a choice after all and again right now Caspain should be her priority especially with his injuries that felt like they were becoming increasingly fatal by the minute.

“Cas!” Iris grimaced as he dropped to the ground and she was unable to catch him, the weight was too much for her as her body still trembled feeling a dull ache spread across her own limbs. Kneeling down by his side she offered her hand to help him up, but it seemed he couldn’t get himself to his feet even with her help. The injuries must have been too much and there was no way she could help him go any further if there weren’t guards at this post.

“My hands?” Whispering to herself as she realised what Cas was saying, if there were guards, they were in the direct line of sight of the watch tower and could easily be killed. It was something she had forgotten as Cas had fallen and she had forgotten everything else momentarily as she slowly stood herself up again. It was highly likely they’d assume they were terrorists, especially if they still thought the Prince was dead and surely security would have been fixed after the kidnapping. Although it was hard because she watched Caspain struggle and he was clearly in pain, she wanted to help in some way but when she had finally mustered up the courage not to put her hands up reaching out for him she heard an order. An order that sent shivers down her spine.

Slowly she raised her hands up not moving from her spot for fear she would get shot. For a brief moment she wanted to just run out of there, bolt away but then that would only end up with her being shot and she knew she couldn’t leave Cas. Not without knowing he was okay, even if it meant she’d most likely be killed for treason. Glancing towards the soldier that had snapped his order she could see the gun that was trained on her, her heart stopped as she tried not to move. “I… I was just trying to help him. I don’t mean any harm.” Perhaps they’d just let her back away, slowly return to the districts if they knew she didn’t mean any harm. Surely, they couldn’t know she was the daughter of the rebel leader, they had to just be soldiers here for the watch tower.

Upon hearing the rough voice of a soldier, Cas tilted his head just enough to watch the team charge toward them with their weapons drawn. They looked hostile, but at least they were coming closer rather than firing at them right away. He also recognized one of the men: Jacob, the head of the royal family’s security. The sight of a familiar face was shockingly relieving to him. It was a guarantee that he would be recognized and that they were finally safe from their enemies. They finally had skilled guards to protect them from the rebellion and bring them into the sanctuary that was the capital.

However, his initial relief was dampened when one of the men planted his feet and fixed his weapon on Iris, apparently pegging her as an enemy. Why? He wondered dazedly. She helped me get here… She isn’t an enemy. He wanted to call out to them that she was on their side, but before he could, a shadow fell across his head as Jacob knelt down next to him. The guard had a concerned expression on his face as he looked over his broken body, his features laced with curiosity as well. He wanted to know who had left his future king in such a state, but there was no time for questions. Getting answers would have to wait until after he was given medical attention.

“I already sent for an ambulance, Your Highness,” Jacob informed him. “It should be here within the next few minutes. Just try to stay awake until it arrives.”

Cas ignored him, his dull eyes fixed on the soldier who was pointing a gun at Iris. Before now, he’d desperately wanted to receive treatment for his various injuries, but he was more concerned with making sure she made it out of this alive too. She’d come all this way to make sure he got home, and he wasn’t going to let them kill her for her efforts. Taking as deep of a breath as he could manage, he forced himself to rasp a command, “Lower your gun! She’s with me—” He couldn’t say more before pain wracked him chest, and he groaned.

Jacob frowned, his eyes flicking to the shirt that covered the prince’s torso. He couldn’t see the injury there, but he suspected there was one if he couldn’t even talk. “Your Highness, I would suggest you stay quiet, so you don’t worsen your condition.”

Cas glanced up at him, panting tiredly, “Not unless… Not until I know she’ll be taken care of.” He tried to gather enough breath to go on. “She saved me… I want her taken to my home to rest while I’m at the hospital.” He squeezed his eyes shut as a deep ache resonated in his body, unable to speak again until it passed. “Have someone take her there… when the ambulance arrives.”

Jacob studied him contemplatively. Under different circumstances, he might have followed the order. If the girl had in fact saved his life, then it was worth hearing her out. However, he couldn’t do it this time. Unbeknownst to the wounded royal, his father had already given a far different order that superseded the word of a prince, and he was obligated to follow through with it. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he bowed his head respectfully. “But I can’t. His Majesty issued a warrant for the arrest of every rebel involved in your abduction, and security footage shows that she was there that night.”

Cas’s eyes widened at the revelation. He’d thought that the military would listen to him when he arrived because he had so much authority, but he couldn’t override his own father’s wishes. “No, she’s not—” he scrambled to defend her, only to bite his tongue as pain coursed through him again. Helpless, he could do nothing but watch as the guard turned to the remaining freestanding soldier and commanded him to restrain Iris before she could get away. As much as he wanted to leap up and stop them from arresting her, he couldn’t move or speak anymore.

While the other two men dealt with the rebel, Jacob lifted his gaze to the sky as the sound of an aircraft filled the air. The ambulance had arrived. “Just lie still,” he told Caspian firmly but gently. “You’ll be alright soon.”

Feeling a sense of relief wash over her when she had heard they had called an ambulance for Caspain already, it meant he should be okay and at least he could be free of this nightmare. Caspain would have access to the best medicines they could offer, fixing him up with no problem and relieving all the pain. It was a small victory, she had managed to get him out and away from Ethan, her father and the rebellion in general that called for his death. Somehow, they had made it, luck had definitely been on his side when it had come to the escape and she only hoped this would at least make up for her actions. Though deep down she could still feel the guilt of kidnapping him in the first place, had she not have done that he wouldn’t be hurt like this and as much as she wished she could take it all back. She couldn’t.

Maybe they’ll be merciful with a quick death. A dark thought crossed her mind as she already feared the worst, the gun was still trained on her, so she highly doubted they were about to let her go. Even with Caspain ordering it she didn’t think they would allow her to just go to his home, where his father was when her identity had been revealed as a member of the rebellion. No doubt they knew who her father was and there was no way she would be setting foot in his home.

There it was the confirmation that his father had already given out orders when it came to her arrest, well the rebels in general and of course she was there that night. She had orchestrated it all and she was the reason he was in this state in the first place and wounded as bad as he was. It was strange because she felt numb, like she wasn’t really registering what was happening around her as she kept her hands upright showing them there was no threat. What could she do anyway? If she were to run, they’d catch her or shoot her, and she didn’t have the energy for anything like that.

The other guard had stepped forward and restrained Iris pulling her arms roughly behind her back handcuffs being pulled from his belt as he cuffed her wrists together tightly. Orders were orders and the Kings superseded the Princes and who knew, the Prince was heavily injured and might not know what he was saying. The guard had many thoughts on the matter about what could have happened, but he kept his mouth shut more because he wanted to impress Jacob and saying something stupid would look bad on him. “Sir, suspect restrained.”

Suspect… yes. I suppose it’s fitting. Should have called me a traitor. Well at least Caspain will be alright, he will get better. Maybe he will look at helping the districts. He has seen it now… he is a good person. Thoughts began to circulate as she didn’t have the strength to speak up, colour had drained from her face and it was hard not to feel a little frightened with what was to come. A part of her wanted to talk to her father one last time, even if it was just a goodbye it had some sort of closure. Iris had resigned herself to thinking this was her death, especially when his father found out about her as she could remember the day, he had interrogated her. The distrust was there, and she had proved him right.

“Sir, what are your orders?” The Soldier asked as he kept a hold of Iris stopping her from being able to escape, not that she struggled against the arrest in the first place.

This wasn’t going at all the way that Caspian had thought it would. Watching in horror as the soldiers restrained Iris, his mind felt like it was spinning as he raced to think of a way to get her away from them. He’d allowed her to come with him because he’d thought he could protect her from the military, but it was quickly becoming apparent that any authority he’d had had been rendered useless. If the men were obeying his father’s orders above his own, there was nothing he could do to change their minds, and he wasn’t in any condition to get up and stop them from taking her away by force.

Dismayed, he barely even registered that the ambulance hovercraft had landed near the base of the tower. He shifted to try to get up one more time, but Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder, the guard’s gentle pressure more than enough to prevent him from rising. Keeping the prince from straining his injuries, Jacob glanced down at him before lifting his gaze to meet the soldier’s thoughtfully. Atlas had been clear in his demand to capture any of the rebels who had been involved in the kidnapping, but there was nothing to be gained by killing the girl right away. She was a member of the Scourge and therefore a potentially valuable resource to the crown in the civil war.

His unreadable eyes drifted to her, deftly taking in the fear that was written on her face without empathizing with it. She may have looked like an innocent woman, but she was a rebel, so he didn’t trust her. “Take her to the penitentiary for now,” he said decisively. “I’ll alert His Majesty to her arrest, so he can assume responsibility after you lock her up.” He paused, considering something else before he added, “And give her something to drink.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldiers replied, turning to take her with them to the other side of the fence, where a car was waiting that they could use to transport her to the prison. As they walked away, Cas followed them with his eyes, trembling slightly with mounted frustration that he could do nothing to stop them from taking her away from him. He scarcely even had a voice left to call out after them. Instead, he turned his head toward Jacob with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Don’t let them kill her,” he pleaded hoarsely. “She’s the reason why I’m not dead.”

Jacob met his gaze and then looked away without a word, watching as the paramedics sprinted toward them from the aircraft. He was unable to make any promises as long as her fate laid in Atlas’s hands, so he concluded that it was better to say nothing at all.

Caspian understood his silence perfectly. His throat felt tight as he watched the soldiers disappear from his sight. Regret began to wash over him, and he closed his eyes, hating that he couldn’t protect her and that he couldn’t even summon the strength to tell her that he loved her one more time. He could do nothing but lay immobilized on the ground, drowning in his remorse and pain until the medical workers reached his side.

Jacob rose to his feet and stepped aside while they set out a stretcher and carefully lifted the prince up to place on the mobile surface. The sensation of being jostled around by more hands made Cas grit his teeth, and a low moan escaped his throat. He felt a little nauseated too, but with nothing in his stomach, he couldn’t have brought himself to vomit even if he became sick.

“He needs to be sedated,” one of the paramedics said as they carted him off to the waiting ambulance. “Have the isoflurane prepared right away.”

“On it,” another paramedic replied.

Cas was distantly aware of what was happening as they brought him on board the hovercraft, but he was too disoriented to pay full attention. He saw that Jacob had come with him when he opened his eyes at one point. Then the feeling of a heavy mask proceeded, covering his mouth and nose. Wearily, he opened his eyes again to see a red-haired woman standing over him inside the vehicle, and he heard the sound of hissing gas. The combination of foreign sensations stressed him inwardly, and he tried to shift on the gurney.

“It’s alright, Your Highness,” the woman assured him soothingly, resting a latex gloved hand on his shoulder. “Just relax and sleep now.”

Cas furrowed his brows, wanting to tell her that he couldn’t relax yet—that there was something that he was still worried about. However, as the anesthetic flowed through the mask and filled his lungs, he found it harder and harder to remember what he was concerned about. His eyelids drooped heavily, and his head lolled. The sounds of voices around him faded into a monotonous hum as he succumbed to the drug and faded into darkness.

Iris didn’t look back at Cas, she didn’t want him to see her whilst she feared for her very life. This wasn’t about her right now because Cas was in such a state, he needed the medical attention and she didn’t want him to worry about her. For now, Cas should focus on getting better and not what was going to happen to her, she could worry about that. Without causing any trouble she walked alongside the soldiers who were escorting her to a car to take her away, no doubt to a cell she definitely couldn’t break out of.

It was ironic, roles had certainly been reversed and now she was the one to be locked away in the cell. It was like some crazy infinite loop, Cas in a cell now she would be in a cell. Even if they were to break out of this she didn’t know what could happen in the future, if she was allowed to leave then she’d end up back in the districts which wouldn’t be terrible as she’d still have her life, but with the rebels and Ethan out there she wouldn’t feel safe. The fact she had betrayed two different sides all in one month only spelled trouble for her. The most logical option would be her death, she would be killed for her crimes against the crown and then she wouldn’t have to worry, but then she’d be dead. Did she want that?

“Get in the car!” An order snapped in her ear as she felt one of the soldiers push her head down and shove her in the car. Once secured they slammed the door shut and locked her inside before clambering in the front to head to the penitentiary where her fate would be decided. The soldier got himself into the driver’s seat and started to make his way off, the car going at a decent speed as it drove away from the districts and the grim reminder of what happened in them.

The drive had taken no more than an hour with the speed they were going at, now far away from the edge of the districts and the tower were they had found Caspain, alive. Iris could see the vast difference in the scenery and knew they weren't in the districts anymore, nothing was blown up for one and the buildings weren’t crumbling. It looked clean, pristine and well looked after as she glanced out of the window taking in the sight of the Capital once more. It was nice seeing it again, a part of her still wanted to explore it with Cas but that was a pipe dream now and very unlikely to happen. Sighing to herself as she could see the penitentiary approach, a building that looked similar to the Prison in the districts and still had the same sense of doom. It still struck fear inside and she knew this was a place to be feared more than the prison her and Cas had just escaped from.

This might be where I die.

Seeing as the car had stopped she watched as the door opened and the Soldier reached inside dragging her out, stumbling to her feet she bit her tongue from saying anything as it wouldn’t help but none the less she was annoyed. Following them silently they headed into a heavily guarded area and it felt like all eyes were on her, it made her feel self-conscious to a degree as they watched her walk inside with the two soldiers. It was eerie walking inside; Iris could hear her footsteps against the concrete floor and the sickly feeling began to rise in her stomach.

“Right, here we are.” Opening one of the cells blocks he pushed the girl inside before locking it up behind him. “I’m sure someone will be along to question you later and explain what charges and punishment you will face.”

Not even bothering to reply to them Iris just turned her back on them looking at the grey walls of the cell that she would now be staying in. Already she felt sick, resigned by the fact this would be her death and she couldn’t stop thinking like that. At least Cas is safe and alive.

Jacob’s mind was reeling. From the moment he’d first recognized Prince Caspian on the computer screen to the ambulance ride to the hospital, he continued to grapple with the fact that Aspiria’s future king was still alive. He, along with everyone else in the capital, had been convinced that he was dead. Even Nox-Fleuret had confirmed it when he’d been under interrogation at the penitentiary. The leader of the rebellion had been under the influence of Aproveset at the time, so there had been no doubt in the soldiers’ minds that their prince was gone. Something must have happened that Regis hadn’t been aware of though. That was the only explanation he could think of for the false information they had received, since their truth serum was supposed to be foolproof.

Standing by the edge of the vehicle with a rail in his hand for balance, his eyes remained fixed on Caspian’s unconscious form while the paramedics cut away his tattered clothes to examine his injuries more thoroughly. He was impressed that the young royal had survived on his own and wondered how he’d managed to get back to the city. When he’d been awake, he had given the rebel girl credit for his rescue, but surely one woman couldn’t have saved him alone. Knowing that Caspian had a tendency of passing off commendation to others, he guessed he had more to do with his own escape than he would admit.

He listened quietly to the medical professionals as they analyzed the extent of his wounds. From his vantage point, he could see what they were discussing as well. The most concerning injury was the gunshot to his leg, poorly bandaged and still bleeding. The bullet was apparently still lodged somewhere close to his femur and would need to be surgically removed after they arrived at the hospital. They also pointed out his obviously broken wrist—apparently it would be an easier fix—and the mottled red patches and swelling on his chest that indicated another internal injury. The severity of the latter would be unknown until they had a chance to X-ray the area and determine how badly he was wounded.

Privately, Jacob suspected the prince was at least severely bruised, since he’d noticed how winded Caspian became every time he’d attempted to speak. Having bruised his own ribs before, he was familiar with the stabbing pain that stole ones breath away. However, he wasn’t an expert on the matter, so he kept his input to himself. No matter what had caused the discoloration, he was sure the medical professionals would diagnose it.

As the ambulance neared the hospital and began to descend toward the landing pad, Jacob heard the paramedics discussing a deep laceration in the prince’s arm that was potentially infected and would also need immediate treatment to prevent blood poisoning. He shook his head to himself, incredulous. It was no wonder Caspian had collapsed before he’d made it to the fence line. He’d been in poor shape, and it was a marvel that he’d managed to carry himself all the way back to the capital even with the help of the girl he’d supposedly been traveling with. It angered him that the rebels had beaten his future ruler nearly to death, and he was sure King Atlas would share the sentiment.

Caspian’s health aside, he was glad that he had good news to report to the current monarch. For the last few days, Atlas had been practically inconsolable over the “loss” of his son. He was eager to tell him that the prince was alive and that the paramedics believed he was stable enough to recover from the wounds that had been inflicted upon him while he’d been a prisoner of the rebellion. Once he made sure Caspian was taken into surgery without any issues, he planned to go to the palace straight away to relay the news.

The hovercraft touched down on the landing pad atop the building, and the paramedics draped a white sheet over the prince’s body before they transported him to the elevator. Word had already been sent ahead that the most talented surgeon in the facility would need to be prepared to receive him, ensuring that he would be given the best care Aspiria had to offer. Jacob jogged with them to the shaft and went along until they brought him to a set of double doors, through which he wasn’t permitted to pass.

Trusting that the physicians would handle things from here, the guard told them to alert him as soon as Prince Caspian was out of surgery and turned away to return to the palace. He called a taxi, having left his personal vehicle at the watch tower on the border, and pulled his com device from his belt to tap into the security team’s frequency during the drive. Right away, he was greeted with an excited hum of voices, to whom word had spread that the missing royal was alive. Guards and soldiers buzzed with questions, wanting to know where the prince was and what condition he’d arrived in. Apparently there was already a rumor circulating that the girl who’d come with him had been holding him hostage.

Jacob rolled his eyes and thumbed his fingerprint access, “This is Curry. The prince is currently undergoing surgery at the hospital but is in stable condition. Nothing about what happened to him or the woman who was with him has been confirmed yet, so please stop spreading misinformation until we find out more about the situation.”

Curry? This is Warden Walker, a voice replied over the device. We have the prisoner in our custody. Are there any further orders as to what should be done with her?

Jacob tapped his index finger against his thigh. At the moment, he didn’t have explicit permission from the king to dictate what should be done with the girl. He suspected Atlas would want to have her interrogated to find out more about the rebellion’s plot to abduct and kill the prince though. “Not yet,” he replied. “Has she been given water?”

No, sir.

“Give her some then,” Jacob dictated. “I have no idea when the last time was that she had a drink, and I don’t want her to die before any decisions are made about her fate.”

But sir, prisoners are more malleable when they’re dehydrated—

“I know that,” Jacob interrupted him impatiently. “But I don’t care. Nothing has been decided yet, so treat her like she’s going to be in our custody for a long time. She very well could be.”

A brief pause followed the order before Walker responded, Yes, sir.

“Good,” Jacob said curtly, letting the connection drop and turning toward the car window. Had it not been for Caspian’s insistence that the girl wasn’t an enemy, he wouldn’t have given a damn what the soldiers at the penitentiary did with her. However, he felt obligated to at least make sure she wasn’t left half-dead, since her wellbeing seemed important to the prince. Heaving a sigh, he leaned his shoulder against the side door, watching the city roll by on his way to speak to King Atlas.

Rubbing her arms Iris felt a chill breeze by in what felt like an empty building, of course it wasn’t empty there were guards’ around and no doubt prisoners in other cells. When listening she thought she could hear the faint moans of people, but it was so faint, so quiet that she honestly thought it could be her on mind playing tricks on her. It had honestly been an emotional roller coaster and she felt exhausted, especially as it all started to catch up to her. Focusing on getting Cas home had really hidden a lot, it had pushed down thoughts and feelings she didn’t want to admit too and some of them scared her. How easy she was to just except death, like there was nothing else she could do in life. Well… I’m not wrong. No. Stop it. Already battling with her mind as she moved towards the corner of the cell and sitting herself down in it.

Pulling her knees up to her chest she placed her head on her arms as she tried to make herself as small as she could in the cell. As if this would hide her and shield her from the reality. The cold cement flooring sent shivers through her body as she kept herself quiet, there was nothing to be gained by talking. Nothing to lose either if she didn’t because she felt like she already knew her fate.

Death is not really an escape though is it?

Closing her eyes as if she could get some rest, she knew sleep would evade her, it had done so before back in the prison because places like this just made her feel uneasy. There was something about these places that brought on bad memories and feelings and she didn’t know why, not with the fact she was still recovering a lot of them to this day. I wonder if when inches away from death I’ll remember everything of my life? Do I really want to remember everything? Feeling a weight on her chest as she knew they would have to question her, they’d want to know about what happened to the Prince of course and as she was a confirmed member of the rebellion, daughter of the leader they would assume she would have knowledge. Valuable knowledge that could kill every last rebel.

I… I don’t want to give them information though. I know they hurt Cas, what they are doing is wrong… but giving them the information… it will only lead to more death, more bombings of districts. Bel Bicis… No. I can’t. Not when so many lives could be lost. Cas is safe now, the prison was clearly hit, Ethan is probably dead… who knows what happened to my father. Is there a risk of them trying to hurt the monarchy again? As if battling with her own thoughts Iris felt torn, as much as she was fighting for Prince Caspains safety she did also have a duty of care to the people of the districts. That was where she had come from, that was where she had grown up and only because of bad things happening did the rebellion start in the first place. I’ve betrayed enough people for a lifetime. I won’t anymore. Iris had been so lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the rattle of her cell with someone trying to get her attention.

“Ergh… why are we even bothering. Prisoners respond far better when dehydrated.” One of the guards muttered to himself as he had tried to gain her attention from the bars, he was holding a glass of water in his hands as ordered by Curry. “Hello!? Girl?” Rolling his eyes as he still had no answer, he reached into the cell bars and placed the cup of water down onto the floor. “Water, you ungrateful piece of shi…” Trailing off as he stopped himself from insulting her he wouldn’t get himself into trouble over someone who clearly didn’t care. Sighing heavily, he used his own com device informing that water had been given, well placed as the prisoner refused to even acknowledge him or the water.

Sir, prisoner is unresponsive she doesn’t want it, I’ve placed it in her cell.

Ending the comms, he shook his own head before he moved off to keep watch over something more interesting than this.

The taxi pulled to a stop in the palace courtyard just beyond the sweeping perron that led up to the front doors. Thanking the driver for the ride, Jacob climbed out of the backseat and made his way up the steps. Since he was supposed to be inspecting the seventh tower on the border, the king wasn’t expecting him to return this early—last time he’d checked, it was still midafternoon—but Atlas rarely left the confines of his bedroom since the memorial had taken place. Chances were, that was exactly where he would find the mourning father today as well.

At least this time, I’m bringing him good news, he mused as the security officers by the entrance allowed him inside. The way the monarch had reacted when he’d brought word that Caspian was dead was seared permanently into his memory. He looked forward to informing him that their sources were wrong and that the prince was back inside the safety of the capital, where he belonged. Of course, he would also have to confess that he’d barely been alive at the time the soldiers had found him and that he was currently in the hospital undergoing extensive surgery, but at least it was still better news than “your son is gone.”

With a subtle shake of his head, the guard continued to navigate the halls inside the palace, climbing stairs until he reached King Atlas’s bedroom. Rapping his knuckles on the heavy oak doors, he called out, “You Majesty, I have something to tell you. May I come in?”

As usual, a brief silence followed before he heard the shuffling of feet on the other side of the panel. The handle was jostled, and a maid appeared on the other side, beckoning him to step inside. He nodded to her politely and entered the room, turning habitually toward the bed, where his ruler was laying down. At the sight of him, Jacob bowed deeply from the waist and straightened his posture again as the weary king grumbled, “More trouble with those underqualified fools in the seventh tower?”

“Actually, no, Your Majesty,” he replied. “I come bearing good news.”

“Oh?” Atlas brightened ever so slightly. Before he’d thought his son was dead, he used to leap at good news, but now, he barely stirred. It was like the life had been drained from him, which only encouraged Jacob to relay his discovery.

“It’s about Prince Caspian… He’s alive,” he announced, getting straight to the point.

At first, Atlas said nothing. His brows jumped upward, and he stared at the guard as if he was having a hard time processing what he’d just said. However, after a moment, he managed to speak. “What…?” he breathed, forcing himself to sit up on his bed. “How? Are you certain?”

“Absolutely,” Jacob confirmed. “I was there when he was found. While I was inspecting tower seven, he appeared at the border in the company of a young woman. I brought him into the capital, so I know for sure that it was him.”

“My son… Caspian is alive,” Atlas echoed distantly. For a moment, he fell quiet again and then pushed his duvet aside to get out of his bed. “Where is he? I must see him.”

Jacob startled and took a step closer to the bed, holding up his hands. “You can soon, Your Majesty, just… not yet.” He cringed as he prepare himself to deliver the bad part of the news. “Prince Caspian is at the hospital. He showed up with multiple severe injuries that required immediate medical attention. He’s going to be fine, but right now, he’s undergoing surgery to treat the wounds.”

“Injuries?” Atlas scowled. “How did that happen?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet because he was in poor shape when he arrived,” Jacob admitted. “But it seems more than likely that they were caused by the enemies who abducted him. We’ll find out more when he wakes up after his operation.”

The king clenched his jaw, “And what about the other individual he was with? A woman, you said? Was she one of them?”

“Potentially,” Jacob replied, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I recognized her as the same girl who lured him into the forest and had her arrested upon arrival. She’s currently in a holding cell at the penitentiary.”

“Perfect,” Atlas growled. “Have her executed at once.”

The guard blanched. “Sire, if I may be so bold,” he cleared his throat. “She may be useful to us if we question her first. We know she’s associated in some way with the uprising, so we could use what she knows to finish off our enemies for good. She may have just handed us the key to our victory by showing up here.” That, and he suspected that Caspian would be livid if he came out of surgery and discovered that they had executed the person he’d deemed his savior. For the sake of not ruining the relationship between father and son, and for allowing the prince the chance to explain why she was carrying him to the city while there was a warrant out for her arrest, he had to dig in his heels against the order to kill her right away.

“We’ve questioned quite a few prisoners recently,” the king reminded him jadedly. “What difference would it make to interrogate one more?”

“I can’t be certain that it would make a difference,” Jacob replied honestly. “But there’s no harm in trying. If she has anything useful to give us, we’ll learn it. If not, we’ve lost nothing in prodding at her thoughts.”

Atlas chewed on his lower lip in thought. “I suppose you’re right,” he sighed. “Very well then. Tell the interrogators to do what they will. I just want this godforsaken war to end.”

“Right away, Your Majesty,” Jacob bowed again. “I’ve also asked the doctors involved in Prince Caspian’s surgery to alert me as soon as his operation is over. If you’d like, I can relay the word to you when I hear from them.”

“Please do,” Atlas nodded, reclining on the bed again. “In fact, I’m going to visit him when he’s awake.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Jacob said before he politely excused himself from the room to call the warden back. He’d delayed the girl’s execution for now, but she was still a traitor to the crown, so she would be treated as such until Caspian could explain more about what had happened since he’d disappeared. Turning on his com device, he tapped into the frequency and spoke crisply into the receiver, “Warden Walker? This is Curry. Have the interrogation room prepared for our new prisoner.”

Prepare the interrogation room, I want our best on the girl as she could have some useful information.

Hearing the orders about the interrogation sparked a sense of buzz around the Soldiers especially as rumours had spread that she had held him hostage. Some even dared to whisper of a forbidden romance at the Prince had simply run off staging his death so he could live a normal life. All these rumours buzzed around, but nothing left their circle because they feared the repercussions of such chatter. If the King found out, especially about the romance one they were certain they’d be punished quite severely and s the King was in such a temperamental mood they didn’t want to risk it.

Will you stop gossiping, idiots, the lot of you. Curry has told you off once for this chatter already. Don’t make it a second.

But what if it’s true?

Oh, shut up, do you think some lovesick fool would turn up in the state he did? Don’t underestimate the prisoner because she is a girl.

A more authoritative tone came from the comms chain and the chatter seemed to die down, people would always talk regardless on if they knew the truth, but today they could get to the bottom of it. They’d get her to talk, they were trained professionals who dealt with prisoners daily and although they’d had things like petty criminals and small crimes, they still had trained men to deal with interrogation.

Sir, what authorities have we been given for this interrogation? If she was unresponsive in her cell, I doubt she will want to talk.

One of the Soldiers had already begun to prepare the room, a table with two chairs sat in the middle. The room was dark with no windows, but they had a dim light so they could see. The room temperature had been set to a cooler one to make it uncomfortable for the prisoner as the interrogators would have plenty of layers keeping them warm from the chill. It was just the small details to make them feel uncomfortable as it only spurred a more co-operative meeting.

Sir, room is prepared. We will escort the prisoner who will be ready for questioning in five minutes.

Iris hadn’t moved from her corner of the room, she wished she could just sleep as she could feel the exhaustion run through her body making her feel fatigued. Glancing up from her position she could see the glass of water that had been placed in her cell, she was partially tempted to drink it. Who knew when she would get another chance for water? It seemed silly to turn it up… but then what if that’s what they wanted. What if they had poisoned it? It’s just water, they can’t mess with that. Scolding herself for her thoughts as she crawled over to the cup of water not bothering to stand as it required too much energy she didn’t want to use.

Taking a drink, she could feel the water soothe her damaged throat, by now the bruises had fleshed out and the swelling was still there. It was uncomfortable, but also a grim reminder that she wasn’t safe in the districts or the Capital. It hadn’t taken her long to drain the glass of water feeling a brief sense of comfort from having it, but she knew that could be her last ever drink. Death awaited her, with or without questioning she wasn’t certain. Maybe I should save them the trouble? Blue eyes downcast on the glass in her hands, had they meant to give her a glass? It seemed ridiculous giving her a glass when it could be broken and the shards used as some sort of weapon on the Soldiers, but most importantly herself. Though she had given a glass to Caspain when he was in their cell. As if in a trance whilst lost in her thoughts the glass was thrown against the wall smashing, glass shattered everywhere, and she sought out the biggest shard possible.

The sound had alerted the guards and in an instant two of them had swarmed her cell. “What in the? Oh no you don’t.” Catching on quickly they restrained Iris once more stopping her from reaching the glass, frowning at the mess in the cell. “What idiot? Call this in and say we are on our way.” Nodding to the other soldiers as he pushed the girl out of her cell and away from harm.

Whose bright idea was it to give her a glass? Not sure what she was trying to do, but either scenario would have been bad had she got her hands on the pieces she smashed. Common sense people. The Prisoner is on her way to be interrogated.

Having said everything that needed to be said to King Atlas, Jacob left the royal’s wing to check in on the security team at the palace. All he needed to do for the rest of the day in regard to the mess that had broken out at the seventh tower was wait for the call from the hospital confirming that Prince Caspian was out of surgery and transferred to a room in which he could be visited by outsiders. Until then, he planned to catch up on scheduling and assigning the guards to the needed posts around the building.

He made his way to his on-site office and spent about fifteen minutes skimming reports and entering the names of the guards into a digital program before his com device sounded with an alert that someone was trying to reach him. At the noise, he exhaled in exasperation, already guessing the call was coming from someone at the penitentiary. Those dumbasses can’t handle anything without my help, he grumbled inwardly as he put on his earpiece.

In truth, most of the high-ranking soldiers were extremely competent. They had been rigorously trained and tested before they received their promotions, forbidden from advancing if there was any doubt that they wouldn’t be able to handle the responsibilities of a higher rank. However, the problem was that most of the finest men in the military were all concentrated in one spot: central intelligence and strategizing. Atlas had been so hyper focused on winning the war that he’d pulled the best of the best from almost every other area to command the army, leaving plenty of other roles to be manned by people who were underqualified for the jobs. Currently, the prison was in a similar state. Warden Walker was a competent man, but many of the guards under his command didn’t know what they were doing.

“Curry here,” he said into the receiver, leaning back in his chair as he took the call.

Sir, the prisoner is being escorted to the interrogation room as we speak, a guard told him formally.

“Great,” Jacob rolled his eyes. “And why was this necessary to tell me?”

Err… actually, I was calling to request that she be transferred to an isolation room after the questioning is over.

“What? Why?” Jacob furrowed his brows. Isolation rooms were reserved for prisoners who’d proven to be a threat to either themselves or the guards who looked after them. After seeing the way the girl had behaved when she’d been arrested, he couldn’t imagine that she was dangerous to anyone. He wondered if the guards were just trying to treat her with prejudice because she was a member of the rebellion.

We have reason to believe she was going to utilize a weapon, sir, the guard explained. We gave her water as you requested, and she broke the glass to make a shiv—

“Hang on,” Jacob interrupted irritably. “Did you say she broke a glass?”

…Yes, sir.

“How the fuck did she get her hands on a glass? I told you to give her a drink, not a goddamn build-your-own knife kit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Do you morons not have a single paper cup in that shithole?”

I’m sorry, sir. It-It was an oversight.

“You’ve got that right,” Jacob growled. “Pay more attention to details next time, soldier.”

I will, sir.

“Good. As long as you don’t accidentally give her another weapon, I don’t see any reason why you’d need to put her in isolation,” he said decisively, tapping his index finger on his desk. “Just keep an eye on her and treat her like you would any other prisoner… Paper cups only. Jesus. Put it on a fucking plaque if you have to.”

Yes, sir.

The line ended, and he shook his head, returning to the work he’d been doing on the schedule. With any luck, he wouldn’t hear from the penitentiary again until they called him back to report on what kind of information they were able to squeeze out of her.

Iris felt like she was in a trance as the Soldiers dragged her to a room, probably to be questioned she thought to herself as she felt herself pushed into a room and directed to a chair where they pushed her down to sit on. Feeling herself shiver at how cold the room was she looked down at her hands not interested in the people around her. Truth be told she was not interested in talking and she felt like this was going to be a long awkward silence. Though who knew what kind of techniques they had at their disposal? Ethan of course didn’t use any sort of tactic, just the more punch and beat style. Violent.

I don’t think it will be the same here. They probably have more skilled interrogators who manipulate and twist the mind. Thinking to herself as she made herself comfortable on the chair thinking she would be here a while. Not even bothering to look up when the sound of the door opened, she could only assume it was someone here to question her, why else would she be in a room with a table and two chairs. It certainly wasn’t where she was going to die. The sound of a chair scrapping across the floor could be heard and she could see the shadows out the corner of her eyes signifying two men where there, one was no doubt there to take notes and relay the info back through their comms device. Something she had learned from Cas before this whole mess happened.

Clearing his throat one of the soldiers sat on the chair looking over the girl, to him she didn’t look threatening at all but again looks could be deceiving. When it came to the matter of top security and the lives of the monarchy no chances could be taken and that was proven with the Princes kidnapping. “Would you like anything to drink?” There was no need to exchange pleasantries, but he would offer another drink if needed. After all he had seen the marks on her neck, perhaps the first tactic would be offering some form of kindness to get her to trust them.

The Soldier in question was called Matthew Miller, he was reaching his early thirties and had served plenty of time within the investigation field. Matthew had overseen almost every interrogation and if he wasn’t present, he always called for the information to review it, it was so he could keep on getting better at his role. The only interrogation he hadn’t been a part of was the rebel leaders, but from what he had heard that was quite a disaster, the man was crazed. “Not much of a talker, I get it. I’ve seen plenty of these interrogations pan out. I can honestly say though, it gets easier if you talk. Could lessen the time and punishment.”

As much as Iris wanted to hold her tongue, she couldn’t, it felt like he was patronising her and giving her all the wishy-washy bullshit about how if she talked things would be easier for her. “I don’t think you can lessen a death sentence.” Not even raising her eyes to look at him, no emotion in her voice as she spoke the words calmly. It was true, her crimes were treason and warranted the death sentence.

“So, you are well versed with your crimes then. It was Iris, right?”

“Iris Nox-Fleuret, but you already know that. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about any of it. The Prince is safe, that is all that should matter to you and you can’t convince me otherwise. I’m a dead person walking, this is simply just borrowed time for me right now.” Shrugging her shoulders as she focused her gaze on her hands, it was how she felt because it was clear Caspain had no power when it came to his father. Even he couldn’t pardon her death sentence and she should have known that.

Matthew looked at his partner who was beside him shaking his head slightly, it was clear she didn’t want to talk. The somewhat nice approach wasn’t working. Sighing to himself he pulled out some papers which had a few notes on them, they contained information from pieces they had gained from all the prisoners they had experienced in these walls. “You’re right, you are a dead person walking. Just like your father, well he is no longer walking. He was executed more than a few days ago. Regis Nox-Fleuret the leader of the rebellion, he was killed for his crimes.” Changing tactic slightly as he watched for a reaction, seeing what emotional buttons he could push around.

After Jacob had left to organize the security team, Atlas had gotten out of bed to ready himself for the trip to the hospital. With the help of his staff, he dressed himself and took his supplements to handle leaving the palace. Since Caspian had disappeared, his health had taken another major dip for the worse, and he found it unbearable to get out of bed more often that he was required to. His doctor had placed him on indefinite bedrest, during which he was permitted to continue governing the country and running the military from a distance as long as he didn’t travel to meet with anyone. The most he was supposed to do was get up to take short, five-minute walks around the palace every few hours to lessen the risk that he would develop blood clots.

Even now, it was against his physician’s advice for him to be going to the hospital, but he wasn’t going to lay in his bed all day when he’d just found out that his son was alive. He needed to see Caspian with his own eyes, desperate to reunite with his only child and heir. He was also interested in finding out exactly what the rebels had done to him while they’d had him in their clutches. When Jacob had told him that the prince had been sent into surgery, he hadn’t given any specifics about what kinds of wounds he’d had that had needed urgent treatment. If their enemies believed they could treat the future king of Aspiria like a worthless prisoner, he was going to burn them to the ground.

Intensity burned in his eyes as he raised his arms so that his attendant could place a coat over his shoulders. If Jacob hadn’t been warned against it, Atlas would have insisted on leaving immediately. However, he knew that seeing his son lying unconscious on a table while surgeons worked on him would have been too much for him to handle. As impatient as he was, he needed to wait until the operation was over, so he would see the prince after he’d been transported to a bed.

Because of his condition, it took him a long time to get ready to go. He’d bathed and dressed himself and even forced down a small meal so his supplements wouldn’t upset his tender stomach. By the time he was done, it had been about an hour since Jacob had first showed up to give him the news about Caspian. He looked at the analog clock on his wall with a deep frown. He’d hoped that he would have heard from the guard by now that the prince was out of surgery, but he’d still heard nothing. The silence concerned him, because it alluded to the severity of his son’s wounds. The worse injuries were, the longer it took to repair them.

Turning to a nearby maid, he ordered: “Find Jacob Curry and tell him I’d like to speak with him.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied obediently, bowing before she left the room to do as she was told.

As she disappeared from sight, Atlas sighed and seated himself in a plush armchair by the window to wait. It took another five minutes or so, but apparently the maid had found Jacob quickly, because he heard a knock on the door followed by the guard’s inquisitive voice: “You asked for me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, come in,” the king beckoned him.

Standing outside the bedroom, Jacob inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the conversation to come. Knowing Atlas well, he was sure the monarch had summoned him because he wanted further information on Caspian. Unfortunately, he had nothing more to give. He stepped inside and dipped his head.

“Do you know how much longer my son will be in surgery?” the king asked right away.

“No, I haven’t heard anything from the hospital,” Jacob shook his head. “I saw his injuries for myself though, and I’d expect that it’s going to be at least another hour or two, if not longer. He had multiple wounds that needed treating.”

“Such as?” Atlas frowned again.

Jacob shifted his weight, “I’m not sure it would benefit you to know that, sire…”

Atlas narrowed his eyes, “Are you defying me, Curry?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Jacob replied hastily. He took a breath. He’d hoped he could avoid being the one to tell the monarch what had happened to his heir, but Atlas wasn’t giving him much of a choice. Hoping his ruler wouldn’t be too irate, he reluctantly answered: “Prince Caspian was admitted with at least four serious afflictions. I don’t know all the details, but from what I understand, he had a broken wrist, a stab wound in one arm, and a gunshot wound to the leg. There was also something wrong with his chest, but I didn’t stay long enough to find out what it was. It’s going to take time for the surgeons to properly tend to the damage, which is why it may be a few more hours before you can visit him.”

Atlas stared at him wordlessly, unprepared for the news that his son had been so seriously injured while he’d been gone. The rebels had beaten, stabbed, and shot him. His vision tinged red with fury. “Those bastards!” he howled, quickly fumbling to stand from his seat, only to fall back on his rear, unbalanced.

Jacob ran across the room to his side, tentatively placing a hand on the king’s shoulder. “Your Majesty, please calm down. What matters is that he’s alive—”

“Don’t you dare tell me what matters,” Atlas hissed threateningly. “My son was shot! I want the culprits dead! I want them—” Suddenly, he erupted into a coughing fit that prevented him from speaking further.

Jacob tensed and turned toward the nearest servant. “Call his doctor now,” he commanded, pressing a hand on the king’s back while the coughing fit seized him. It turned out that it had been the wrong decision to tell Atlas the specifics after all.

Killed. Dead, her father was dead? Killed for his crimes? How had they gotten him? No, he was fine, drunk and somewhat crazed, but fine. Alive when she had last seen him. No, they were lying, they couldn’t have killed him, he would die from alcohol poisoning. Not this. The silence felt deafening as she refused to talk or even acknowledge that her father was dead, there was no proof that he was dead and to her they were no doubt just playing with her. Trying to push her to talk, did they think she would just break down and cry? Absolute lies, I don’t believe it for one second. He can’t be dead, he was… was not there at the prison. Ethan said something about retirement. That was odd, but no. There was no way her father was dead.

“No words about his death? Surely you loved him, he was your father after all.” Matthew pressed as he watched her sat on the chair, it looked like she was processing the news he had given but she hadn’t reacted. Not in the way he had thought she would at least. Usually when you tell someone a loved one was dead, they’d fight back, either deny it in anger or get so upset over the news. This was becoming frustrating, but he would still continue on. Matthew wasn’t done yet.

“Ah, I get it. You probably think we are lying.” Matthew smiled as if he was just having a nice conversation with a friend when reality was, he was interrogating her. “Let me show you, just so you know it’s the truth.” Without even flinching he pulled out a photo that was kept with his stack of papers showing the dead body of her father who had been sent to the firing squad for his crimes. Blood could be seen in pools and colour had drained from the male figure in the photo, but it was clear enough to show an identity.

Unable to stop her curiosity she couldn’t help but look at the photo placed on the table in front of her and the sight made her feel sick. They weren’t lying to her, that surely was her father. Dead. Feeling her heart slow down as she stared at the photo, she wasn’t sure what she was feeling, of course she was sad. That was her father and to her deep down he could be a good man, just misguided at times. This was the father that had raised, tried to look after her when her mother had passed. Though a part of her had expected this to happen, he had become so focused on the rebellion, on killing the monarchy so crazed that it really wasn’t a surprise he was dead.

Closing her eyes, she slouched back in the chair still refusing to speak anymore as her thoughts drifted to her father. Iris had closed her eyes to stop any sort of tears, any sort of emotion being seen by them because she didn’t want them to see her grieve. Well. I guess I’ll be joining him soon then.

“Nothing? So heartless.” Matthew commented lightly as he sat back in the chair watching her, he would have expected a reaction to the photo at least. It wasn’t a pretty sight, gruesome to say the least but nothing. No outbursts and he knew it would take a lot to get any decent information from the girl. “Well if you don’t want to talk, I guess we will have to call it. See to it about arranging your death.” Tapping his fingers against the table he could tell the girl was exhausted and usually that helped when they went in for questioning, but no. This was different. It was like she had already resigned to the fact she was going to die. Giving it a little while Matthew let the news of her fathers death sink in hoping it would help and about half an hour had passed and still silence only transpired between them, shaking his head he let out a sigh as he watched the girl pay more attention to her own thoughts than to them.

Placing a hand to his ear he turned on his own comms device, “Sir, nothing. No information whatsoever except her name. She won’t talk.”

Why did Ethan not tell me this? Why did they not say? Iris was more worried about why she hadn’t found out this information before than the men that were discussing the fact she was not talking. What could they do to her anyway? There was nothing worse than death. Why? I… he’s gone. I don’t understand.

Upon summoning Atlas’s main caretaker to the palace, it was determined that the king was fine. Dr. Emett assumed he had just worked himself up too much and needed to calm down, so he issued an order for the monarch to take a nap and returned to the hospital to continue his work with other important patients. Meanwhile, Jacob stayed behind to make sure Atlas followed the direction to rest.

At first, Atlas fought him on it, insisting that he needed to stay awake so he would be ready to leave the instant the hospital called to let them know that Caspian was out of surgery. However, with some pushing from the guard, he finally gave in and laid down in his bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. Jacob stayed with him even after he passed out, taking up the armchair by the window and scrolling idly through his phone to pass the time. He wasn’t much of a fan of social media, never having the time to keep up with a digital presence when he spent every waking minute working, but he did find an interesting virtual novel to read. Glossing over a few chapters gave him something to do for the next few hours, during which he waited for the signal that it was time to leave the palace.

Around five o’clock, his phone finally chimed with a call from an unknown number, and he lifted the device to his ear. “Hello?” he said, stifling a yawn. Sitting around for so long had made him feel lethargic.

Mr. Curry, His Highness has just been released from the operating room. The surgery was successful. He’s still under the effects of the anesthesia, but you’re welcome to come back if you want to be here when he wakes up.

“Thank you,” Jacob replied, stretching his legs and getting up from the chair. “I’ll be there shortly with King Atlas. He wants to see his son as well.”

There was a brief pause before the nurse asked, Is he… aware of the situation? His Highness is stable, but visually, it’s obvious that he’s been through quite a bit of trauma.

Jacob found the question somewhat amusing. It seemed like everyone and their mother was aware of their king’s infamous temper. He could tell the nurse was worried that he would snap at the sight of the prince in poor condition. “I filled him in already, and I’ll be with him there entire time if possible,” he assured her.

That’s good. He could hear her sigh in relief on the other end of the line. Well, when you get here, head straight to reception. They’ll direct you to Prince Caspian’s room.

“I will, thank you,” Jacob lowered the phone and tapped the button to end the call. Turning toward Atlas’s sleeping figure, he stepped over to the bed. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just received a call from the hospital. The prince is out of surgery.”

--

The ride to the hospital didn’t take long. Atlas was impatient to get there even though Jacob had already told him Caspian wasn’t awake yet, so they took his private hovercar. On the way, the guard received another call from the penitentiary—the first since he’d received word that their newest prisoner was refusing to talk. Apparently the interrogators weren’t quite sure how to approach her because she was unresponsive to everything they had tried. They were reluctant to resort to violence outright, both doubting the effectiveness of the method and hesitant because of her gender, and wanted to know what he thought they should do. He told them that they could do whatever they wanted as long as it was within humane parameters. Of course, their efficacious drug, Aproveset, was mentioned, to which Jacob agreed that if nothing else worked, they were cleared to use it to get results.

Throughout the conversation, Atlas was uncharacteristically distant. Usually, the king didn’t hesitate to give his opinion on a problem, but even though he was within earshot of the entire discussion, he didn’t respond to any of it. By the time Jacob ended the call, he studied his monarch contemplatively. It seemed that until Atlas was able to see his son again, he had no interest in focusing on anything else.

So, when they finally arrived at the hospital, Jacob led him into the building and up to the reception desk as quickly as the ill king could manage. The man behind the counter greeted them by standing and bowing his head, as was customary when one was in the presence of their ruler. “Welcome, Your Majesty,” he said congenially. “Are you here for Prince Caspian?”

“I believe you already know that I am,” Atlas replied impatiently. “Where is his room?”

The receptionist faltered at the hostile edge of the king’s tone, his smile wavering ever so slightly. “Fifth floor, room 509,” he answered, reaching under the desk and retrieving a set of lanyards, which he offered to the two to take. “You’ll need these to access the elevator, since it’s a restricted floor.”

Atlas merely grunted in response as he snatched one of the cords, not bothering to put it on before he turned to limp down the adjacent hallway. Jacob took his as well with a wordless nod to the receptionist and quickly followed the monarch to the elevator. When the metal doors opened, they stepped inside, and the guard swiped the card on the end of his lanyard against the code reader before pressing the button for the fifth floor. A light glowed green, signaling their approved access, and the elevator ascended to the designated level.

As they approached the room where Caspian had been transferred, Jacob could feel the king growing more restless at his side. It wouldn’t be much longer before he was reunited with his only son whom he’d thought he’d lost forever. Keeping Atlas in the corner of his eye, he stepped forward to take the handle of the door in his hand and gave it a twist, pulling the panel open and heading inside.

Iris wasn’t too sure how much time had passed but she’d been escorted back to her cell to which she had returned to the spot in the corner curling up in it as if this position would protect her from anything. Apparently, they were done with questioning her for now and she was relieved. Even though she didn’t want to talk or show fear she felt it deep down, she was so unsure on what kind of feelings she should be going through because she couldn’t make sense of it. There was still the worry about Caspain, she still worried just how he was going because he had been in such a state. It was a miracle they had made it back and just in time by the looks of it. Then there was the fact she was coming to terms with the fact she could be killed, but lastly. Her father.

Even though he hadn’t been the most loving, caring or sober for the past few years his death still hurt. The idea that he had potentially died thinking his only family member left had betrayed him and she knew how he got, what if he thought she didn’t love him? Of course, she did, through it all he was still her father and she had good memories of him. Honourable memories because he had been a good person, he had just lost his way and she could understand why. Iris understood the cause and how important it was, but she didn’t believe in killing Caspain. Not just because she liked him, but because it was wrong. In time Caspain could make the important decisions like his father had, he could change the districts and if there was no monarchy. There would just be chaos.

Keeping herself curled up in the corner she was so tired, the lack of sleep catching up fast coupled with the emotions. It was draining mentally and physically, but she hadn’t cried. No tears left her eyes and she knew why, she didn’t want to cry in this place where they could use it against her. Especially when it was grieving for her father because his death still hurt her no matter how their relationship had ended.

Iris was in her own spiral of thoughts; a whirlwind of emotions and dark places kept her company in the cell and the time had passed. Iris had no clue what time of day it was or how long she had been there, but it felt like a lifetime already. It seemed the guards weren’t done with her for the day, the sound of the cell door opening once more could be heard but she didn’t bother to move. If they wanted her, they had to come get her, what was the point?

Though the guards didn’t care, they walked up to Iris hauling her up by the arms and dragged her along back to the interrogation room but not the one they had been in earlier. Round one had been a bust, but apparently, they were going to try something else. Dragging her further into the penitentiary they headed towards white rooms which had thicker walls, sound proofing to a degree because if they went along with the Aproveset it was common for screams. Placing her down onto a chair they two guards headed out to stand guard outside until the interrogators returned, arms folded as they silently did their jobs.

“Well Iris, shall we try again?” Matthew spoke from the door as he stood there looking down at the girl who was slumped in the chair, again unresponsive to him or his company once more. “I thought it best to give you a chance to rest. Did you get any sleep?” Eyes flickered to her face seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the pale skin, to him that meant no sleep perhaps she was exhausted but it would only work in their favour especially with what they had been authorised to do.

“You can ignore me, but soon you won’t. You can either talk now. Or we will resort to other means.” Matthew stated calmly as he looked at the door, a person in a white robe hurrying along with a needle in hand.

It had caught her attention; his questions and the way he spoke about how they could resort to other means. Frowning she looked from Matthew to the person dressed in a lab coat holding some sort of needle in their hands. “What is that?”

“Quite simply if you don’t talk, that serum in there will make you talk. So you have two options. Talk now or talk later. Either way you will be talking.” Matthew folded his arms as he watched the girl contemplate her options, she didn’t know about this drug and he wouldn’t tell her what it did other than it would make her talk. It was highly classified after all.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Oh, I’m not.” Waving forward he took the needle from the assistant saying his thanks as they scurried off leaving them behind. Walking towards Iris he towered over her with the needle swiftly injected her with drug, not giving her a chance to fight back or push him away. Smiling as the drug was administered and he had heard a gasp of pain from her he moved back to his seat folding his arms before relaying information back to the feed.

“Sir, Prisoner still refuses to talk. Aproveset has been administered and will take five minutes to take effect. We will report our findings.”

The first thing Caspian was aware of was that he couldn’t move. Stirring as he slowly came out of the medically induced sleep he’d been put under, a low groan escaped his lips, and he shifted drowsily. His whole body felt heavy, and his limbs felt like they’d been restrained. Confused by the sensation, his dark eyes fluttered open, and he tried to focus his gaze enough to figure out where he was. He remembered collapsing just outside the capital and being carried into the ambulance on a stretcher, but beyond that, everything was hazy.

Over his head, he could see a white, paneled ceiling with recessed lights. Hospital? He wondered tiredly, attempting to lift his head to see more. As soon as he did, he realized why he’d felt so confined. The doctors had set him in a fairly uncomfortable position. His right forearm and left leg had been elevated with slings, and an IV needle was attached to the back of his left hand. A splint held his broken wrist in place, while crisp, white bandages dressed his left bicep and thigh, where he’d been stabbed and shot. The way they’d arranged his body, he couldn’t have done much moving around even if he’d tried to.

Laying his head back down, he closed his eyes again, still half-asleep from the effects of the anesthesia. His clothes had been replaced with a hospital gown, and a sterilized blanket was draped across his hips, most likely left there in case he became too cold and needed an extra layer to warm up. Absently, he realized he wasn’t in nearly as much pain as he had been the last time he’d been conscious. He guessed the nurses had added a strong painkiller to his IV bag. This is the first time I’ve felt this good in a week, he mused with a faint shake of his head. A dull ache still permeated his peace, a sign that he wasn’t fully recovered yet, but for the most part, he almost felt like he was healed.

Just as he began to wonder where the doctor was—he couldn’t easily push a button to call for a nurse in his current position—he heard the creak of the door and raised his head again to see who was coming. The fluids they’d been giving him had helped with his dehydration, but he still wanted to ask for some water to wet his tongue. To his surprise though, it wasn’t a person in scrubs who showed up in his room. He blinked at the sight of his father, accompanied by the head of their security team, Jacob.

For a moment, everything felt surreal. He’d gone through so much since he’d been kidnapped, waiting for Atlas to rescue him, hating the man for abandoning him, and discovering that everyone had thought he was dead. He didn’t know what to think or say. His mind went blank, but luckily, the king broke the silence.

“You are alive,” Atlas breathed, dropping his cane to the floor as he rushed over to the bed and wrapped his arms around his son.

Cas’s eyes widened at the display. He hadn’t seen his father show this much emotion since his mother had died. The way Atlas embraced him now, wiping away any doubt he’d ever had that the king didn’t love him, stirred a sense of fondness inside of him that made him wish he was able to return the hug. However, instead, a grimace took over his features, and he squirmed against the monarch’s arms. “Can’t breathe…” he gasped, feeling a fresh burst of pain deep inside his chest that the painkillers couldn’t contain.

Responding to his son’s complaint, Atlas pulled back from the embrace and placed a hand on the side rail of the hospital bed to keep his balance. His eye swept over the prince’s body, taking in each bandaged wound. The more he located, the more his mood changed from relieved to enraged. “What happened?” he asked, his voice tinted with anger. “Who did this to you?”

“It’s a long story,” Cas frowned and glanced at Jacob. “Could you call a nurse and tell them I want some water?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” the guard bowed and turned toward the door.

Before he reached it, someone else pushed it open from the other side, and a doctor stepped into the room. The man froze near the entryway, clearly not expecting to see two other people in the room with his patient. After his initial surprise, though, he recovered. “Your Majesty,” he greeted the king with a respectful bow and then turned toward Caspian. “Ah, good, you’re awake.” Striding closer, he lifted a clipboard and thumbed through the pages. “Would you like to go over your charts?”

Cas glanced at his father, who looked annoyed by the interruption but waved a hand in indication that the physician could go on. “Sure,” he agreed.

“There’s quite a lot here,” the doctor mused. “I’ll start at the top and work my way down. How does that sound?”

“Whatever works,” Cas told him congenially.

“Right then. You had a minor laceration to the scalp that was stitched up. On your left bicep, the infected gash was cleaned and stitched as well. The blade that caused it narrowly missed your brachial artery, so it was a relatively easy surgery that should heal up nicely. Your right wrist was broken all the way through, but the bone was non-displaced, so it should also heal well as long as you keep it still and elevated when possible and exercise your fingers according to the guidelines of our on-site physical therapist.”

He paused to turn the page. “You have two fractured ribs. The area was injected once with Accuparacin while you were under anesthesia, which should speed up the mending of the bones. You’ll need one to two more injections over the next twelve hours, along with one or two in your wrist to hasten the healing process in that break as well.

“The last major surgery that was done was the removal of the bullet in your leg. It was found quite close to your femur, and you’re lucky it didn’t shatter the bone. The surgeon extracted it without any complications and applied packing to the wound.” He looked up from his clipboard. “All that aside, you’ve also been treated for severe dehydration, and your IV has been infused with Pansine and Amoxiran to manage your pain and speed up the healing of your other cuts and bruises.”

Caspian stared at him incredulously. Apparently he’d been in worse shape than he’d thought. It was a good thing he’d ended up back in the capital or he might not have been able to recover from all of his injuries at all. The thought made him shiver. “Um, thanks,” he managed to blurt after a moment, not sure what else to say.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” the doctor bowed. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, I’d like a cup of water if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll bring one for you right away,” he replied, turning to exit the room.

As soon as he was gone, Atlas rounded on his son with a concerned expression. “I can’t believe this happened to you… Those terrorists never should have been able to get that close to anyone in our family.” He ground his teeth. “I want you to tell me everything, Caspian. Everything you know that can help me bring those mutinous traitors to justice.”

It was strange because she feared whatever they had injected her with, even though she thought they were bluffing it wouldn’t surprise her if this was something deadly. Perhaps this would kill her? She seemed to be in a different room to before, perhaps this was were they went to die? No. They have to be bluffing right? There is no way this will loosen my tongue. As if trying to convince herself she folded her arms with her brows furrowed, it had to just be some psychosomatic thing to freak her out. Though the liquid had burned as she felt it injected into her hence her gasp of pain initially, but again that could just be a placebo effect.

For once her eyes fell onto Matthew who was sat calmly and waiting patiently, as if he had done this before. He seemed competent in what he was doing, all avenues had been exhausted she was certain, except violence. Perhaps that was more a rebel style, but then she came to learn how Ethan was quite a violent man and his grudge seemed more personal against Caspain than rebel related. As the minutes past it felt like a lifetime, like they were both just waiting to see what happened and at first Iris felt nothing which only furthered her thought on how it was just a big rouse to get her to talk.

“How are you feeling?” Matthew commented, eyes watching her closely. Glancing at his watch he knew it was about time but so far nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

“Fine, it was clearly a bluff.” Iris snapped becoming irritable, how dare they make her think some deadly injection could get her to talk. Even as she snapped at his words, she felt her body tremble, an odd tingling running through it making her feel uncomfortable. No. You think this is happening it’s not real. Trying to will the sensation away as if she was making it up herself, the tingling began to feel worse. Blinking a few times as if this was all some mistake, that maybe she had fallen asleep.

“Name?” Matthews voice became cold, sharper as he asked for her name once more. The drug was in her system slowly taking a hold so he would start with something simple. Something he knew that was true.

“Wha… you know my?” Dazed and confused Iris let out a whimper before finishing her sentence as the colour from her face began to drain. The sensation of pins and needles being replaced with something far worse, something that she didn’t think possible as she began to experience pain without cause too. There was no bluff, this was very real, and the room began to spin. A pounding in her head that made her sickness level rise and the urge to vomit was becoming real.

“Name?”

“… I-Iris.” Without realising her name slipped from her lips, as if giving him wanted he wanted would help her. It would stop how she was feeling, it would take away the pain. This was something so far advanced that she had never expected it, she felt her eyes well up and started to blink more. She didn’t want to cry, even though it was a natural reaction to the agony she felt she didn’t want too.

“Ah, much better.” Matthew murmured more to himself, “Shall we try with some basic questions? I don’t know why I’m asking. I know the answer.” Chuckling slightly as the drug proved yet again to be an important weapon they had. Although results with her father had been a lie, he had put that down to the man being so deranged and believing it to be true himself the reason results had been somewhat compromised. “What were you doing with Prince Caspain at the tower?” Jotting down notes as he went along, waiting for her answer. “It’s okay, take your time. You will continue to feel like that until we administer the antidote, it’s not lethal. Just, a very painful experience for you, I guess. The antidote will arrive when I deem necessary. When I have every bit of information needed.”

It was hard for Iris to register his words as her body trembled on the seat, her natural instinct wanting to curl up in a ball and cry. Rock backwards and forwards, rock the pain away as if it would help. Gasping her mouth felt dry, even with any slight movement it sent a sensation of pain running down. The pain levels were so high to her, nothing could come close to this, but she couldn’t remember experiencing anything that would hurt like this would. “I…” Rasping out as her vision blurred, unable to contain the small whimpers that would leave her lips from the pain. “… I. Was… Bringing him back to the Capital. H-Helping him.”

“Oh, come now, you expect us to believe that?” Matthew narrowed his eyes considering that perhaps there was a fault batch, especially with how her father had reacted and the lies that came from his mouth.

“It’s the truth! I promised him. I’m not lying…. I.. I’m not.” Words were hard to form as another wave of pain coursed through her making her cry out. Unable to stop herself from gagging as the need to be sick became paramount and it seemed Matthew had noticed that because as she hurled up a watery mess a bucket had swiftly been placed under her to catch it. There was nothing for Iris to bring up except the water she had earlier and her stomach lining which contained blood, it wasn’t much blood so it didn’t cause any concern for Matthew but Iris could have sworn she heard him mumble about idiots giving her water if this was where the interrogation was headed.

“Alright fine, you were trying to help the Prince. Why? You’re a member of the scourge, the daughter of the leader, right? So why would you want to help him? Money? Fame? A chance at a better life?” Matthew pressed as he rubbed his temples, not happy with her reaction as the drug began to settle into her system. Though he was a little squeamish when it came to someone throwing up, whether little or not.

“No. N-Nothing like that at all...” Iris whispered, now unable to contain the tears that had started to steam down her face. Her small frame began to shake, and she could have sworn the pain was getting worse. It was hard to think, from the pounding to her head. The burning sensation through her body feeling like with each breath she was getting stabbed. “...I love him...” The words slipped out before she could try to stop them, sobs following as the pain continued on.