I'm standing in front of her.
She is sitting in front of me.
She's been reading my report for several minutes now. This is the second part of what she asked me to do about a month ago. We are in her apartments. Nothing has changed since the time when Bas would come in from that same window, years ago. Clizia has always refused to leave her princess apartments once she became queen. Usually the King and Queen live in separate but communicating quarters. She, instead, closed any connection with her husband after their wedding day. In the realm of Samirien, which is a matriarchal society, the queen has decision-making authority on anything, while the King... Well, the King's only purpose is basically to give the Queen heirs, and in this case, the people believe he has already done so.
Therefore, there is really no use for this king in particular.
Clizia's parents, the old rulers, who are still alive, used to make any decision concerning the kingdom together. This is because, in theory, they have always been a couple worthy of that name.
One loves the other and vice versa.
But if the couple doesn't work, you have to rely on the court decision and, legally speaking, the usefulness of the king amounts to nothing. Moreover, in this specific case, the kingdom is part of Clizia's dowry. Had it been the other way around, the king would have had some rights, though certainly not as many as in other realms, where all power is generally in men's hands.
I've always appreciated this realm's school of thought.
This is what I'm thinking while I observe Clizia's black pupils scroll down the lines of my report. She goes through the files, reads, checks dates and copies of records that I have attached and so on.
- And so they're called Sin and Tears. -
- Exactly, - I confirm.
- What a horrible childhood. It's as if they lost their family twice. -
- That's why Bastian and Caleb decided not to move from Sevyhal, - I say. This is the whole point of my report.
- Of course. - She slightly smiles. – Knowing Bas, it was obvious. He always wanted a child. - Her smile becomes bitter thinking about the child he actually had but never knew anything about for obvious reasons. It was hard enough to send that man away from Clizia alone. It would have been impossible had he known that Clizia was pregnant.
- From your report on their personalities, it seems to me that Sin is a bit strange, - she says.
I nod slightly. - Following the most recent psychiatric theories, I'd presume that the first shock caused some damage on a subconscious level. -
- I can't imagine what the second shock caused, - she murmurs.
- Actually, that's exactly what I wanted to talk about with you, - I say. She looks at me waiting for more. - On my way to Sevyhal to collect information, I came across something unexpected and I decided to submit it directly to your advice, - I say. I go to the door and I let in the person I secretly brought back here from Sevyhal.
****
Nakiri opens the door and I find myself in front of a child with reddish-brown hair and sharp blue eyes.
He's expressionless.
He scrutinizes me and doesn't introduce himself. Then, he turns to Nakiri.
- You can tell her, Sin, - Nakiri says. I look at him first and then at the boy.
And Sin, still expressionless, tells me, - I'm here to avenge my brother and to kill those who killed Caleb and Bastian. I'm here to kill the king of Samirien. -
Steadfast and resolved.
He's no more than a child, but I must admit that for a moment he scares me.
****
“What were you thinking?” I hear, from the other room.
The sentence is pronounced as expected the very moment I close the door.
I glue my ear to the door. The other voice answers, “At first I didn't take his request into consideration, but given his resoluteness, I decided to at least take him here and discuss the matter. Let's face the facts: he will do it no matter what, with or without our support. Without it, it will end badly, we both know it, and it will surely generate doubts and confusion, posing a serious danger to our plan. If he does it, instead of you, but with our support, our common goal will be achieved, and you will not have to stain your hands.”
He gets interrupted. “But his hands will be stained! Do you realize that he's just a child, right?”
“This doesn't mean anything.”
She interrupts him again. “What do you mean it doesn't mean anything!? Look at him! He's only 13!”
This time he's the one interrupting her, and I wasn't expecting that. “Not all children are the same, some of them grow faster than others just because they never had a childhood!"
Silence follows for a few moments. I picture him glaring at his queen, and then glance back down as his role requires of him.
And I think that is what really happened because, as soon as I move away from the door, it opens and I find myself facing the queen. I see Nakiri behind her, still in the middle of the room, motionless, hands behind his back, at rest. Then, she says, - We'll help you avenge Bastian and Caleb, and your brother as well. -
I smile.
****
We're back in the garden, and it's night again.
- All the guards have been replaced. - I speak to no one, to the trees and the bushes plunged in darkness.
- You replaced them with those from the list I provided you? - His warm voice hits me from my left. I turn around and I finally see him.
I sigh. - Yes, Shelv, those ones. -
He looks at me with that cold and sharp look. He realizes that I'm telling the truth and he goes on. - Has he noticed anything? -
I shrug. - Of course not. He's so self-absorbed that he can't tell one guard from the other. It's a miracle he can recognize my face, and again, I'm not so sure he can. - His expression doesn't change, as usual. It's hard to talk to a wall. - However, just out of curiosity, who are those people, Shelv? -
- Detainees, – he tells me. That was obvious, I collected them all from the castle cells. But I thought he had placed them there earlier just for this purpose, and instead they're real prisoners? - Detainees? Why? -
- They've all been sentenced to death and they're awaiting their execution. They're all former soldiers from different kingdoms, so their behavior will be similar to that of the real militia. We won't suffer any loss the day after, when we'll have the entire king's personal guard shot for negligence. -
My eyes go wide. - And how did you convince them? -
He lightly smiles. - I told them that the Queen would pardon them all in exchange for their services. -
- But, – I lightly shake my head as if to have my thoughts roll in it better. - I'm sorry, but won't they talk? -
- They will simply lack the time for it, Samuel. -
One moment later I go back to staring at the trees and the bushes plunged in darkness.
****
I drag myself around my house. I find myself staring at the entrance floor.
Shortly after I am in the bedroom, and this time it's our bed that I stare at.
The note he left me.
Now I'm on the couch.
Outside the window the light of day left its place to the night, which has slowly canceled the outlines of all the things outside.
Again. For the umpteenth time.
And that's where I wake up, this time: on the window sill.
I cannot eat at the dining room table, it's too close to the entrance.
I cannot sleep in a bed that has never been mine alone.
I cannot. Full stop.
And I find myself in a corner, curled up on the floor. Legs close to my chest.
I hold the note in my hand and I wait in this empty house.
He promised me, so he will come back.
****
The texture of rough stone, the smell of the mold, the feel of moisture on my skin.
I've been hidden in this passage in silence for hours. Even the sparse old torches hanging on the rough walls are off. The only faint light here, until a few hours ago, was the one coming through the floorboards that line the walls of the adjacent room, which is better cared for and better furnished than the place where I am. Now, the only light filtering in, is the veil of pale moon embracing the adjacent apartments.
I'm quiet. I'm watchful. My eyes are open and looking straight ahead of me. I'm waiting.
When I hear it, it's only because I am expecting it, because I knew, because it was all planned. Planned by Shelv.
The kid is good. Quiet. I know he has slipped into the bedroom next door. He probably feels lost and he's looking around, wondering why the hell he put himself in this situation. How did it cross his mind? Why nobody stopped him?
I'm asking myself the same questions.
I tighten my grip on the sword hanging by my side.
I hear the regular breathing of the person sleeping in that room. Of the person ignoring the existence of this passage. Of the person who never asked himself what was behind that match-boarded wall that sounded hollow when you knocked on it. Of the person who was so self centered that he didn't even take the time to notice that the men chosen to protect him, were no longer the same ones.
When it happens, I grip the hilt so tightly that my knuckles turn white.
I hear a scream, it's the king. The boy, instead, is keeping quiet.
I hear clamped, short steps. It's the kid. I see a flickering light, an oil lamp. A strangled sound, guttural screams. I imagine that it happens the moment the man sees him. 'WHO ARE YOU?' and the light intensifies, he raised the oil in the lamp on the bedside table to better see the intruder. Potsherds. Glass breaking. 'Who the hell are you, kid? How the hell did you get in here? How the hell did you dare?' The voice is hectic. I press a stone different from the others and, with a light clack, a slot opens and I can see what's going on inside the other room.
The boy is standing a few feet from the bed. He's holding a short sword with both hands, a bloody short sword. Blood. On the floor, on the sheets. I slightly push the false wall ajar and I see the king pressing his hands on his stomach. He's bleeding profusely. Even from here I can tell that it's not a mortal wound. The kid hesitates, his eyes are wide, and he's holding onto that sword as if it were the only rope to hold on to in order not to fall into the abyss.
The king starts to get up. I grit my teeth and get out from my hiding place. - Stand back, - I say to the boy, but the king thinks that I'm talking to him. He grins.
- Now you're fucked, stupid thug. -
A little smile escapes my lips, but as I unsheathe my sword, something suddenly happens that I would have never expected. The kid snaps, jumps with one foot on the bed and...there! He lands on the opposite side of the bed, crouching.
The king is stunned. He stares in horror right in front of him, at a floor board.
The head rolls a couple of times, or maybe three, on the wooden floor, then it finally stops, clumsily detached from its neck. The body remains seated for a moment. I can see a light tremor in the hand that is still holding onto the stomach, then the body falls lifeless to the ground, rolling forward, next to its head.
I remain motionless for at least one minute.
Then I sheathe back my sword and stare at the boy. He's still crouched on the other side of the room. I approach him but then I step back when I see the grin on his face.
He's in ecstasy.
With his right hand he's still holding the sword, with his left he's stroking his cheek, smearing the victim's blood on his face. He brings his fingertips to his mouth. He savors the taste of blood. His eyes are unnaturally wide, his pupils are narrow, and he's looking straight ahead of him. He's swaying his head slightly back and forth as he smiles.
I crouch to grab him by his shoulders and shake him out of that state, and he turns around suddenly, he's a bundle of nerves. For a moment I picture two heads rolling on the floor, but it doesn't happen. He comes out of that trance state and I really see his eyes change, as if he finally went back to see what's really in front of him instead of what's in his head. As if his gaze was running wild and finally his pupils found a way out from those orbits.
- We have to go, now, - I say to him. For a moment he looks at me without seeing nor hearing me. Then he nods and gets up.
When I hear voices coming from the corridor, I'm already closing the match-boarded wall behind us.
And that's when it happens. I only see a twinkle in his eye. He turns around and I don't even have the time to think of grabbing my sword because he's too fast.
The blade pierces me. Time slows down, my hands reach down to my stomach and I can feel my hot blood as I stare into his expressionless face. He tightens his grip on the sword, pushing it deeper down. He says only one word, a name: 'Caleb'.
A dim light behind him, at the end of the empty hall. Shelv's blond hair. A wave of fresh air touches me and goes through the corridor, finally reaching the boy. Translucent tentacles surround him, and he doesn't even have the time to understand what is going on that he falls back. Shelv catches him, he's unconscious.
I fall to my knees, my hands are still holding my stomach. I look at Nakiri who's watching me, coldly as usual. At least he has the decency to ask me if I need help, right before darkness surrounds me and I tell him to go to hell as I fall unconscious.
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