To say she’s speechless would be an understatement.

Even when the guards have stabbed their weapons to her throat, locking her in place, Leda’s overwhelmed with trepidation. She’s not in sound condition to accept the situation this has spiralled into, but her animosity hasn’t wavered the slightest.

"You’re the prince of Edaps?” She grasps at the dull weapon. Taking her action as one of rebuttal, the guards shove her back with considerable force. She bites her lip, though her glare hasn’t fallen. His earlier actions are clear in her mind. “And yet you’re fine with treating your citizens the way you did?”

“I should be asking you why you care so much,” Ronan III replies. “The way I’ve decided to behave towards my citizens, their deaths and sufferings—it shouldn’t concern an outsider like you.”

Her nails dig into her fisted palms hard enough to draw blood. “Where’s the king?”

“And why must I allow you outsiders the right to step foot anywhere near my father?” Ronan’s voice has escalated to a condescending snort. “You’ve both ruined my swell mood and refused my kindness. Halt your pointless pleas and leave my sight at once.”

He twists on his boots, beckoning to the guards.

“Escort them out of the capital.”

Leda can only produce a wry laugh as a guard wrenches her wrist, propelling her backward. Some seize an apprehensive Orian as well. Ronan spins around at that and treads onwards with the arrogant flutter of his cape.

So this man is a member of the royal family—someone with the ability to aid all those wailing citizens outside. And yet he’s refused, and continues to refuse to do so? Not to mention his detached manner of speech—as if this all has nothing to do with him.

“And you call yourself a prince?” Leda spits.

Ronan halts in his tracks, his countenance crinkling as he faces her for the second time.

“Your attitude towards His Highness is completely unacceptable!” a guard bellows in her ear.

He rams her body to the ground. Her chin knocks painfully against the asphalt, rocks scratching her bare skin.

A blade is positioned expertly at her neck, the sharp edge prickling and producing a thin line of blood.

“We will slit your throat if you dare keep it up!” another warns.

A third oozes menace as well. “An outsider like you has no idea how hard the third prince works for the kingdom of Edaps! How tirelessly he dedicates himself to lessen the hardships of the citizens—”

“Enough!” Ronan’s shout quiets the riled up sentinels at once. “I am exhausted from my journey,” he says again, softer this time. “As I’d like to spend the rest of tonight peacefully in my headquarters, I will be leaving here.”

“No way! It’s a Mond!”

“Wow, he has wolf ears! It’s a wolf-Mond! That’s so cool!”

The childish giggles that rip into the air ease the tension as swiftly as a zap of lightning. All eyes befall Orian who, amidst being detained by two guards, is currently having his tail tugged at by two toddlers. Both have matching grins painting their faces, but unlike everyone else Leda has seen, these children are not wearing any means of cloaks or long sleeves.

They’re entirely exposed.

Their grotesque, scratched up arms and legs; jagged and flaky skin carving into their cheeks to the point of revealing pink flesh. The black dots she’s spotted on every citizen outside are ten times more concentrated on these kids. Not to mention a multitude more painful.

Leda’s mouth plummets to the ground, eyes shrinking back in shock.

“Naka, Nara!” Ronan surprises her by hurrying to and whisking them from Orian at once. He crouches onto one knee to lessen the substantial height difference. “Why are you out here? It’s sundown. No citizens are supposed to be outside.”

The two kids merely grin brighter.

“Prince Ronan III, you’re back,” the boy, Naka, weakly cheers.

“You went to check on the other towns and villages didn’t you?” Nara, the girl, goes on, clasping the fabric of his cape. “Did you come back with a cure for us?”

Despite not cracking to everything else he was faced with, Ronan wavers. His lips meet, tense.

He knows Leda can hear this all but without paying her the slightest mind, his mouth stretches into a frail smile.

“Of course I have,” he whispers. “I have to tell the doctors to prepare the medicine at once. And for that I need you two to head back into your beds and rest, all right?”

“But... but...” Naka pouts. “I-I’m too scared to sleep.”

Nara is equally as frightened. Her tiny hand trembles. “Yesterday, Grandma Ophelia went to sleep with us like every other day. But when we woke up she already went bye-bye like all the others...”

Tears spill down their cheeks. They stare up at Ronan with big, watery eyes.

“W-will Naka and Nara go bye-bye too?” Naka whimpers.

“We don’t want to go bye-bye yet,” Nara snuffles.

Ronan suddenly can’t produce the words. His expression is stuck in place, and he can’t seem to move. Leda is unable to stop the frown that spreads across her face. Orian is silent also, sorrow downturning his gaze.

It’s the guards who end up intervening, guiding the children from Ronan’s side. After getting them to agree to bid farewell, they lead them back the way they’d come—in the direction of their home.

Leda watches Ronan from where she is. He punches his clenched fist into the dirt, stifling unwarranted frustration.

It’s obvious he’d wanted to shout all along—have a tantrum like those kids and all the others outside. He’d wanted to vent, scream from the rooftops. But it just so happened he found it easier to be cruel in a moment where the damage had already been dealt.

It isn’t that the royal family hasn’t been doing anything for their kingdom.

Maybe the fact is, they just can’t.

There’s evidently more to this situation than Leda expected. The guilt from that realization rattles her insides, tormenting her for screaming the things she did at him.

“They may have their own side to the story.”

Orian was right.

Leda hoists herself onto her shins, but the two guards above her slam her back to the ground, holding her down.

“Master!” Orian exclaims, struggling again in his own confines.

Before he can break free, Ronan grumbles, “Human. Mond.”

Quiet flits into the air.

The prince rises from his knee then faces them with newfound aggression sifting against his frown.

“There is no way you travelled all the way from Meisyr to defile the royal family.” He bunches his fists, stilling his exasperation the best he can. “Why did you come to Depree?”

Leda stares directly at his piercing eyes, but not a squat of her determination wavers. “We came to see you.”