Morrigan stared at the portrait of her daughter with a frown. It had been almost two weeks since her kidnapping and it seemed no one was making any progress towards finding her. Despite her husband's reassurance that Ray'ven would be fine, she still couldn't help but worry. Yes her daughter was strong, she had Ja'ule's blood running through her veins, but Morrigan also knew the vulnerable side of their child. The part that held uncertainties and insecurities that Ray'ven kept well hidden from her father. The girl worshiped her father and was constantly worrying about disappointing him.

Her fingers traced the painting, her daughter's beautiful eyes, a mixture of Morrigan's own blues as well as Ja'ule's green ones, stared back at her cheerfully and her frown deepened. "Be safe, my child." She whispered, closing her eyes as what little energy she had seemed to drain from her. She clutched her head wearily and sighed. She had at least hoped to be able to be out a little more today.

 ***

Bynx entered his stepmother's chambers with malicious intent. He knew what she had done weeks ago, and she'd wished she never agreed with Ja'ule that he was unfit to be king. "Mother," He chuckled out softly, though the rage swam the evergreen hue of his eyes. "Can we talk or have medicine yet to settle you?"

Morrigan turned to find Bynx standing in the doorway and repressed the urge to sneer. He was Ja'ule's other child, the one he had spawned from his first wife. Instead, she offered him a small smile, beckoning him into the room. What on earth could the boy want? He still couldn't be upset about her voting against him for the throne, if anyone deserved the spot there, it was her daughter, even if the girl had been against the ruling.

"Of, course Bynx. I was only thinking about Ray'ven. I pray that she is returned to us soon. I fear what a man like Razmyr would do to her." Morrigan watched him closely as he stepped into the room completely as she spoke and closed the door behind him. The look in his eyes told her that he was up to something. "Was there something you needed?"

The door clicked shut behind him as he approached his sickly stepmother's bedside. She looked as horrid as she sounded, and a part of that anger flashes white before his vision when she mentioned Ray'ven. I hope she doesn't, something snapped out within his mind. He could hardly believe he'd thought such a thing. Bynx didn't wish her dead, he only wished she'd give him the throne when it was time. Though that would never happen, he knew this. That's why he came in the middle of the night to play one of his cards. Maybe his last one.

"Have your daughter give me the throne when it's time for her coronation. This day has been long coming. I know you know this deep down in your very essence. If you have any love in your heart for me," He paused, his teeth sinking down onto his bottom lip while his thoughts stirred. She didn't. He knew she didn't. Only her daughter meant everything to her. "Help my father know I can be the man, no, that I am the man he wants me to be. This is the last chance I can offer you Morrigan."

Morrigan sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing.

"Last chance?" She questioned. "Is that a threat, my son?" "

"No mother," Bynx smiled and a low chuckle escaped him. "I'd never threaten you. I only want what's best for you. That is all. And by doing so, I'm giving you the only way I can assure your safety."

Morrigan stared into his eyes, there was something sinister lurking within those eyes. "You and I both know that the council will not change their minds about who gets the crown and I wouldn't ask them to change it even if I could sway the decision."

Okay then, the hard way. He tried. Bynx smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt with the palms of his hands and leaned closer to her. "Ja'ule could sway them. Especially if he finds out you've been a dirty whore beneath the old tunnels beneath this castle. Is," He ran his thumb over the dark circles beneath her eyes. "Ray'ven even his?" He raised a brow and withdrew his hand back at his side.

The king would question her legitimacy, causing him, his only heir to take the throne. She would either be banished and isolated or drink poison. If she were lucky, she'd be beheaded. Tch. If she could, she wouldn't. "Remember mother," The words left bitterly. "I have a bit of control over the inner courts. I could easily overlook your drinks, food, and clothing. The test taster could accidentally not test your meals. Remember this. If you don't care for your own well-being, think of Ray'ven. Let's hope she doesn't follow in your footsteps."

Morrigan felt her blood run cold and her heart seize the moment the words left his mouth. How? How did he know? She had always made sure to be careful. "Shut your mouth, boy. You don't know what you speak." She hissed. "Ray'ven is the daughter of Ja'ule and she is more fit to be on the throne than some whining drunk of a fool like you." Anger allowed the words to fly loosely.

"It was nice to chat with you. You're always too busy for me, yet always open for Ray'ven. I'll remember this when the drunken fool exposes you to the king and ascends the throne." Turning, Bynx grinned and left the room in silence. A silence he hoped she'd smother in during his absence. As her stepson, he'd give her a month. That is, if Ray'ven came back.

 ***

Razmyr's head snapped up when he heard Baeron's shouts of an attack and the sound of scuttling boots across the deck. The crimson moon set high amongst the horizon, red lights filtering through the clouds and yet they were already under attack. The ship sailed towards them fast, bearing the royal seal on its mainsail and cast.

The captain opened his mouth to command his crew but splinters of wood blew upwards from the sudden jolt of the ship. Another cannonball was fired, almost knocking Razmyr over the edge. He blinked, staring through the cloud of smoke and baring his teeth while his hands braced against the beam. The sails of another ship came into view as his own men prepared their own cannons.

"What the fuck is going on?" Razmyr hissed at Baeron, James, and Pudge.

Pudge scratched beneath his belly and grunted. "I don't bloody know. Probably because of the wenches below."

James tilted his head, barely able to stand because of the poison flowing through his system still. "The king wants his daughter and niece. We have no other choice but to fight them head-on."

Head on? His third in command could barely stand, and Pudge was too busy standing around scratching his hairy nut sack. Baeron, his Magick wouldn't save them all. Bloody hell, Razmyr thought as he drew his sword from the sheath. Dust and debris hovered across the floorboards, thick and grainy. "They've thrown the gangplanks. We've got no choice. Attack!"

Several men ran across the wooden beams and Baeron spun his hands, creating gestures and tracing symbols. A large wave rolled across the sea and lurched over on top of the deck, hitting against them harshly. When it pulled back, it only took the men from the other ship. This hadn't stopped the rest. They kept coming. One after another.

James jabbed and sliced, tossing men overboard while Pudge crawled low, severing men's tendons and slitting their throats when their backs hit.

"Get the girls!" Razmyr spat out as the captain of the ship stared him down from across the other side of the gangplanks, a challenge he was willing to accept. If he wanted his prisoners, he'd have to kill him first.