Itching to pounce, Leland spoke up,"You'll have to come with me, then. Lots to answer to and all that. Do you even know how many farmers want your head on a stake?" He stepped down a couple rungs, meaning to lead his defeated suspect to Don with head held high. An indescribable confidence was filling his chest as he pictured the prince's dumb, stonewall face admitting he'd done a good job- and yet, Lee realized, Seigle hadn't moved an inch.

Unlike the sour glare of a brat Lee expected, Seigle instead harrowed a still, cold stare.

"Just move it, kid, let’s not make this harder than it needs to be." It would be a lie to say the sudden wash of apathy didn't spook Leland, but given the circumstances, he didn't see much of a risk. Either Seigle came down or would be eventually forced down, and the consequences of his sabotage would be carefully weighed and executed. The boy's choice would have no effect on the outcome- or so Leland thought.

The kick to his head was the least of Lee’s worries as he hit the ground with a hard thump. Twice, then, the breath was knocked out of him, head bleary from the rush. Blinking hard to clear his head, he groaned at the piercing pain in his jaw.

What in the gods fuck just happened?

Like an impish angel answering his prayers, Seigle peered curiously from above, a halo of light through the leaves crowning his head. Still struggling to focus, Lee exhaled, wedging an elbow down to prop his body up.

“Okay. Okay, I get it. A moment of panic- shit,” massaging his jaw, Lee racked his brain for a way to handle this unforeseen obstacle, "Tell you what. Come down easy, now, and I won’t mention the kick to the face. Deal?”

Seigle had leaned back onto the safety of his perch, but after a pensive moment at last scooted towards the ladder. Relief washed over Leland’s body.

Looks like he might have some sense? A guilty conscience?

Proven once more to be wrong, the last thing he saw was Seigle’s devilish grin and a towering ladder plummeting towards his face.

~

When Lee finally came to, his head throbbed as his swollen cheeks prickled with swelling. Moving to grasp at his stiffened jaw, he was disappointed to find they were bound securely behind him. Where am I?

Taking in his surroundings, it seemed he’d been stowed away in a simple bedroom. Warm, wooden and sparse, the only furniture to be seen was a stool, the bed to which he was tied to, and a rickety side table strewn lazily with discarded articles of clothing. The only relief from the dreary place was a small window above the bed, midday sun dancing through the leaves and floating dust. This must be the living quarters.

Content with his observations, Lee began to squirm in his bindings, coarse rope rubbing his wrists raw. Just as he began to persevere the pain in an attempt to wriggle his thumb free, however, the distant approach of voices trickled into the window. Lee quickly regained his posture, straightening up and lifting his bruised chin as the voices became hushed on the other side of the door.

It swung open to reveal two figures. Seigle, with arms crossed, slouched to the side. If he had any pride in his triumph over Leland earlier, it had all been dashed away by now. A new hesitation of anxiety now took over his demeanor, the vulnerability of his young age on full display as he took a back seat to his companion.

Her scrutinous glare bore into Leland, a pursed frown telling him she was unimpressed with Seigle’s catch. Despite the threadbare linens of a field worker she wore, her steady entrance into the cramped room spoke nothing of a countryside dame. Rather, she stepped deliberately, without pause towards Leland, her own hands clasped behind her perfectly straight back. Seigle scrambled to close the door behind them.

"You couldn't think to gag him? What if he had yelled for help?" She didn’t lean to study Leland any closer, merely cast her eyes down upon him.

"H-He was still unconscious when I left!"

"That clearly lasted."

Seigle rubbed his arm sheepishly.

Sliding the single stool in the room beneath her with her foot, the woman finally fell into Leland’s eye level. Stark blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun, her matching brows sat critically above sharp, grey irises.

"Just what are we going to do with you?"

"You know, most people buy me a drink before trying anything. It's only polite." Lee winced as he spoke with his sore jaw, but managed a sly half smile.

"Cute. He's got jokes," she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms "let's keep this simple- what do you know, and why are you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?"

"Whatever do you mean? I'm just a poor neighboring farmer. My trees were all eaten up by this awful fungus, so I came to make up some of the income I've lost by working here."

Like a brick wall against a brisk wind, the demanding glares of his interrogator passed right through him. In response to this, her brow twitched, reminding Lee of someone else.

"You didn't come alone. Do all farmers traipse around with Anin royalty?"

"Ah…"

"And you said some very interesting things to my acquaintance. Quite nosey for a simple man, aren't you?"

"I was only giving some advice, you see, and your friend, he doesn't take criticism very well, it seems."

She scrunched up her nose, every word from his mouth ticking her off a little more. The line of her jaw may have stiffened, but Seigle leaned into the conversation with cautious glee, as though hearing the reprimanding of a sibling.

A moment passed, then two, then a heavy sigh left her as she rubbed between her eyes. Seigle startled at this and threw caution to the wind in meek inquiry.

"Matilda?"

Another sigh,"did he even know my name before you brought it up?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't-" Seigle stammered as Lee watched them warily, confused by the dynamic duo. A reckless kid like Seigle was like an open book- he had no idea what he was doing here and was more than likely being paid. Matilda, on the other hand….what even was she? A boss? A mastermind? Another paid lackey?

Lost in thought, he was struck by a sudden, wry laugh. Even Seigle's ramblings were halted as he stared at the woman laughing, and only found comfort when it was clear she wasn't looking at him. No, her eyes were set squarely on the man bound before her.

"Honestly your highness, if you plan to play beggar, at least pretend to have some tact!"

Lee's face immediately dropped.

"Do you really believe yourself so clever? Nothing is changed of you but your clothes, and you keep the company of royalty like it's nothing. You don't even revere your 'lord' as a servant would! You merely follow him around like a foolish dog. I however admit I wasn't aware Anin's youngest heir was comfortable with any other nobility."

Matilda's words struck like a viper, digging its fangs deeper and deeper so they may turn Lee's veins cold. Beneath his bruising, the flush of shame had at last swept his face.

"We, ah… just met."

Seeing him finally admit to something, Matilda sneered, "What a mess you've made, Prince Leilani."

"Prince Leilani?!" Seigle jumped to, trying to follow the current of the words that passed in front of him. Lee recovered just enough face to give a weak smile.

"In the battered flesh."

Matilda rose from her stool with a dismissive tone, "Yes, Seigle, Prince Leilani. Crown prince of Syna, and the king's only heir, might I add. And you've gone and punched him as if he were one of your street rats."

Seigle gaped for an excuse, but when his thoughts ran dry he scurried to find a solution.

"W-what do we do now? Do we kill him?"

Matilda scoffed, "No, we don't kill him! I have nowhere near enough of the authority to make such a dramatic call, let alone a little urchin like you."

"So we take him somewhere? What if he tells everything? Matilda? Matilda?"

Again pinching her nose, she scarcely had the patience to respond,"We'll be taking him along. We're leaving now," seeing the boy begin to open his mouth, she tutted him to silence,"and no more questions! Just grab your things and let's go."